Inhaltsverzeichnis
Stories
Stories
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A dream would be more believable
A dream would be more believable than the following true experience. Last month I was in New York City on business and I was staying an expensive hotel on the upper East side. After a very stressful day of potential clients slamming doors in my face I decided a warm, hot sauna in the hotel health club was the answer to all my troubles.
Wearing sweats and an old ripped T-Shirt I proceeded to the top floor. As the elevator doors slide into their respective pockets, I was greeted by a three quarter view of a rather plain looking attendant at the counter. The pale skin of her left cheek was blemish free and her dark brunette hair was twisted skillfully into a very tight, thick braid down the center of her back and the end of this rope like plait was not visible. As I approached the chest high counter I noticed that her porcelain shoulders and the nape of her long neck were slightly exposed because of the sleeveless white T-Shirt she was wearing. Stepping to the front of counter a nervous "hello" uttered from my dry, chapped lips.
Turning, as she drank from a water bottle she was noticeably startled by my presence. Without blinking, and quite possibly staring, I noticed five, fiery red curved fingernails nails wrapped eloquently around the water bottle. Her turn revealed a phone receiver held to her right ear with her other hand which was just as amazing as the first.
In a soft, pure voice she spoke into the phone, "I have a customer, I'll have to call you back". I apologized for the interruption as she hung up the phone on the counter between us. A graceful tap of her thumb, index and middle finger nails on the base of the phone rebounded to my ears like music from the heavens. She placed the water bottle on the counter and rested her chin on her clasped hands revealing the true length of her gorgeous red talons. They curved over the tops of her smooth white hands almost reaching the top of each wrist. Her ruby red lips peered open as she told me not to worry about the interruption. "After all" she said, "your the only person to come in here all night and I was just catching up on a few personal calls".
What happened next shaped the balance of the evening for both of us.
I decided to lean on the counter to prevent my now weakened legs from giving out beneath me. As I did, my right elbow and the bottle collided and the bottle headed, like a trajectory, in the opposite direction spraying pure mountain spring water all over her smooth tender body.
She was startled, yet amused at the amount of water now dripping from her. I immediately rushed to her aid, grabbing a workout towel as I rounded the end of the counter. She had jumped out of her chair at the moment of impact so we were standing face to face by the time I reached the other side. As I stopped in front of her we were nose to nose. She turned away, obviously reticent about the close encounter we just had. As she did, her thick braid spun gracefully with her whipping across my left arm and thigh. When it came to rest, I noticed it's tightly banded end was delicately balanced directly between her knees. There were drops of water cascading down it like a cold water pipe sweating in the heat of a hot summer day.
She turned back and I profusely apologized for my clumsiness. She replied; "that's okay, I was looking forward to a shower when I got home any way". Fortunately for me, we were face to face once again and this time she wasn't at all fearful of the positioning. Then she reached out her hands, palms up, in search of the towel I was holding to wipe her dripping wet face. As I moved it toward her she turned her hands over to reveal the 3" curved red talons I had seen on the counter moments earlier. She slid her hands slowly over mine and delicately grabbed my wrists, wrapping her thick, shinny red nails completely around my forearms. She gently pulled my arms up to her face and proceeded to help me wipe the small droplets of water from her chin, nose and earlobes.
As I wiped her face she brought her body close to mine, presumably for warmth. A faint kiss on my left ear and a whisper of "thanks" came from her smooth, wet lips. As I tried to turn and speak directly to her, she pulled me in closer. Her bear hug was a remarkable presence as we embraced for what seemed like hours. My hands, which were trapped between us were now resting on her warm, soft breasts. As I struggled to release my hands she moaned her dissatisfaction at my attempted movement.
Her arms pulled me ever tighter as her hands began to slowly caress my back through the ripped T-Shirt. Her nails began to catch on every small horizontal rip and as she slid them down to my lower back she whispered; "this will have to go". With a swift yank of both hands she ripped the shirt off my back. I was euphoric as I felt her nails begin to slowly scratch my now naked back. Her hands moved like a symphony over the instrument of my back stimulating nerve endings I never knew I had. I felt the ever present bulge in my sweats pulsating as she turned her palms outward so her smooth curved nails could slide over my skin like oil on water.
I managed to release my hands from their enviable position on her breasts and I pursued the ultimate bear hug on her. When my hands wrapped around her back I felt the omnipresent thick braid gently tucked between her shoulder blades. As I slid my hands down the soft, still slightly damp rope of hair she moaned slightly. Unfortunately, in this position my hands could not reach the end of their journey as the braid fell far below their reach. I began twisting the massive amount of hair around my right hand with my left. In doing so, I sensed a moment of pleasurable pain from this still unnamed goddess. With a strong tug of my right arm I evoked a moan that would have woken the entire hotel had we not been on the top floor. Her 3" red nails scratched even harder as I pulled the huge mass of hair down toward her tight ass.
As the end of the braid came into reach, I released the tight band from it's grasp letting the three soft threads unravel with ease. I let the soft trail down and began the journey of unraveling the entire braid and the whole time she never stopped the scratching symphony on my back. When my hands reached her lustrous neck she pulled away and shook her head like a wild caged animal released from it's cell. Her hair was now a loose, free flowing incredible ornament of love almost reaching the floor.
She turned around again to reveal the magnificence of her adornment and my bulge grew ever harder. She reached through her dark long locks with those curved red talons pulling it into the longest, thickest ponytail I had ever seen and her interlaced hands revealed those gorgeous curved, red nails once again. As she waved it back and forth the light reflected erotically on her nails and clean shinny hair. She turned back to me, pulling the long flowing tail over her shoulder and proceeded to taunt me by lightly whipping it across my bare chest and stomach. Then, noticing the rather obvious bulge in my sweat pants, she moved closer throwing the mass of hair over my head and shoulders. As it fell down my back to my thighs she came in tight and whispered " you like my loooooong hair and nails don't you".
It took all the strength I had left to answer. "Yes", I said, "your long nails are the most erotic I've ever seen and your hair feels so fucking soft on my back". She proceeded to bend her knees and slide down toward my pulsating penis. As she did her hair slowly moved up my back creating the sensation that it was attached to my head. She proceeded to untie my sweats with her thick nails and teeth revealing my now completely erect penis. She licked the palm of her hand and stuck the nail of her middle finger completely into her mouth. Then, she slowly pulled it out, grabbed my dick with her sweet, wet hand and her nails wrapped completely around it.
Feeling completely lost in her lustful stroking, I reached up and caressed the thick, dark hair still draped over my shoulders. As I pulled it forward it fell to the floor behind her like the train of an old Victorian dress. She wrapped her warm, soft red lips around my penis and the pressure was building as she shoved it deeper and deeper into her mouth. Her long nails were now scratching my inner thighs and I couldn't contain myself any longer. I reached down, grabbed her luxurious hair once more and came with her mouth completely surrounding my penis. Her nails were scratching my balls as I ran her smooth thick hair through my hands.
Gently rising to greet my eyes, she quickly kissed me on the cheek and playfully darted out of the room. Articles of her clothing gave me a path to follow as I made my way through the club. By the time I found her she was completely naked drenched in hot steaming water in the men's shower. Her red nails glistened with water droplets and her wet hair was streaming down her back.
-
A Tale of Two Souls
A Tale of Two Souls…by R. Starkweather
Its fascinating how a brief encounter, barely more than a moment in time, can affect the
people involved for the rest of their lives. Such was the case with Andrew Morton and
Anna Porter. Their encounter was more than fifteen years ago. The cinder-block walls
throughout the elementary school building were painted a sickly shade of pale green that
gave it a stark and dingy feeling. There in the school nurses office, those dreary green
walls combined with the sight and smell of medical supplies to make for a most
frightening atmosphere for a young child already in distress. Perched on a tall wooden
stool sat seven year-old Andy Morton fighting back sobs of fear and pain as the gray-
haired school nurse approached him with a bottle of iodine and a handful of cotton balls.
"This is going to sting," she said dryly as she uncapped the iodine and saturated one of
the cotton balls. The little boy screamed as the nurse began to apply the iodine to the first
of dozens of shallow bleeding parallel red welts that coursed the length of both his arms
inside and out. "Ill do these last," the nurse said, holding his chin and turning him from
side to side examining another series of raw marks, four on each cheek. "Hmm, this
ones quite deep," she remarked examining a cut just under his right eye, "Lucky it
missed your eye. But youll probably have a scar." The little boy cried out and rubbed
his eyes with his little fists. "Tsk tsk," the nurse muttered at the sight of the backs of his
hands and the underside of his wrists which were peppered with little crescent-shaped
cuts, "She really did a number on you."
He really couldnt remember it actually happening, it had been so fast and so unexpected.
He had been playing innocently at recess. That little girls long blond ponytail flowing
down her back as she faced away from him practically cried out for him to give it a pull.
It wasnt the first time hed pulled a girls hair. Girls would go "Ow! Quit it!" and he
would laugh. Sometimes a girl would make a loose fist and smack his arm weakly,
which would make him laugh even harder. Not this time. The little blond girl had turned
and faced him with an angry scowl, her nostrils flaring with each rapid breath, and her
pale green eyes seething with hatred. "Ill scratch you to shreds!" shed snapped, then
her hands were a lighting-quick blur of motion and it felt like shed slashed his face and
arms with shards of broken glass. Hed heard the sound of his own wailing as though it
was coming from someone else, as though he was hovering above his body. He
remembered catching one quick glimpse of the little girl before she turned and skipped
away, her little hands poised before his eyes, her tiny fingers slightly curved…with
shockingly-long fingernails! The image of those nails looking like long translucent
daggers, began to haunt him immediately.
Down the hall, inside the vice-principals office, the little blond girl sat on a thinly-
upholstered metal chair, her feet in white socks and black flats hovering several inches
off the floor and crossed at the ankles; her arms folded with her hands tucked into the
opposite armpits to keep herself from shivering in the chill imparted by those pale-green
cinder-block walls that surrounded her. She heard brisk footsteps, and the door burst
open. The vice-principal, a grim-looking middle-aged spinster, stopped abruptly and
stood in front of the little girl who was staring down at her lap with a surly pout on her
lips. "Anna Porter, what did you do to little Andy Morton?" she asked sternly. "I dunno.
Nothing," the little girl mumbled under her breath. "Do not lie to me, Anna!" the vice-
principal barked. The little girl raised her head and her pale green eyes began to fill with
tears, and her lip began to quiver. "Oh no you dont! Tears will do you no good with
me, young lady!" the vice-principal said, "I will ask you one more time: What did you do
to little Andy Morton?" The little girls eyes narrowed. "I scratched him," she hissed,
staring defiantly into the vice-principals face. "With what, a pitchfork?!" she asked
facetiously. "My nails," the little girl answered directly. "Just your nails. Uh huh.
Right. Let me see them," the vice-principal scoffed. Without uttering a word the little
girl unfolded her arms and raised her hands and slowly waved her tiny fingers. "Oh my
word!" the vice-principal gasped saucer-eyed, seeing that all of the girls fingernails were
at least a half-inch long and carefully filed toward the tips. Livid, the vice-principal
quickly sat down at her desk and began rummaging in her purse. "He pulled my hair!"
Anna implored her, "And I warned him! I said to him Ill scratch you to shreds!"
"Hush!" the vice-principal scolded, "And come here." Little Annas eyes grew wide with
terror when she saw that the vice-principal had retrieved a nail clipper from her purse.
She cowered in her chair and the vice-principal got up and came at her. She grabbed one
of Annas wrists and held her fingers out straight while she brought the clippers to her
long, carefully-filed pinkie nail. "Nooooo!" Anna screamed and lashed out with her free
hand. The vice-principal dropped the clippers and screamed, "Aaaaagh!" and stared in
disbelief at the four deep scratches on the back of her hand. The vice-principals assistant
heard her boss scream and burst into the office. "Help me hold her down!" the vice-
principal shouted, and nodding toward her bleeding hand added, "But be careful! Look
what this little witch did!" Despite kicking and screaming and putting up a vicious
struggle, little Anna Porters strength was no match for the two grown women, and when
they let go of her, all her fingernails had been clipped to the quick. When her parents
found out what the vice-principal had done to their daughter without their consent, they
immediately took Anna out of the school and placed her in a progressive private all-girls
school, and under the condition she would never use her nails on anyone except if she
were truly being threatened with harm, her parents allowed her to grow them long again.
But Anna was haunted from that time forward also, by the memory of having been held
down against her will and the nails she loved chopped off…and, by the sensation of
having scratched little Andy. A sensation that might otherwise have been insignificant if
not for the trauma shed suffered as a consequence, it took on an ominous symbolism that
dominated Annas subconscious although she did not recognize it as the source of her
conscious feelings and behavior.
By contrast, Andy Morton had perfect insight into the lasting effect of Annas nails and
what she had done to him with them, although the insight was of little value in making
his life any easier. Immediately following the scratching incident Andy developed an
obsession with all girls nails. It was the first thing he looked for when he saw a girl. But
although he was fearful of girls who had long nails, paradoxically he was also drawn to
them. Whenever he did see a girl with appreciable nail length he always compared it to
the image of Annas that he carried in his head. His life became a quest for a girl with
nails as spectacular as Annasand the exciting danger they posed. Partly because
Annas nails had been truly extraordinarily long for a child, and partly because that image
of them had taken on iconic proportions, Andy was frustrated and disappointed
throughout the rest of his elementary school years. He tormented a number of his little
classmates until they scratched himand short nails could scratch quite hard and
painfully, but nowhere near what Anna had done. Finally in middle school, many girls
started growing their nails quite long. At that age also, boys and girls began exploring
their budding sexuality, mainly in the form of make-out parties. Andy discovered much
to his frustration, that unless a girl had long fingernails he did not find her attractive.
And conversely, if she did have long nails, little else about her mattered. That often left
him either pining for a girl who wasnt attracted to him while shunning one who was; or
pairing up with a girl his buddies thought was "a dog" and teased him mercilessly about
it. Finally, the girls he knew considered their long fingernails beauty accessories, not
weapons, and it was torture for Andy because he knew that revealing his desire to be
scratched would bring him instant ridicule and rejection.
At first following her transfer to a new school Anna Porter held fast to her promise not to
use her nails in anger. But little by little the urge to experience that rush began to grow
until it was constantly in her thoughts and she had to fight it back. It got so she often had
to dig her nails into her own palms to keep from lashing out with them. One time she
went to the movies with some girlfriends, and as they shuffled down the crowded aisle in
the dark, a boy about her age in front of her was wearing a tank top, and Annas self-
control dissolved in an instantaneous explosion of pent-up urges that had been building
since that day with Andy. She clawed the young boys bare arms from his shoulders
down with all the speed and force she could bring to bear. As his hair-raising screams
echoed from the rafters, Anna slipped past him and quickly edged her way to her seat
alongside her girlfriends, where she sat for several minutes with her eyes shut, breathing
heavily, soaring on pure adrenaline. From that time on Anna was addicted to that rush,
and became obsessed with finding ways to get her "scratch fix" without being caught.
Her parents never suspected there was an ominous ulterior motive to Annas sudden
interest in going to the movies, or the mall, or the video arcade…anywhere kids her age
from other schools and neighborhoods hung out without parental supervision, where she
could scratch someone quickly and escape without being caught. Her parents thought it
was just healthy pre-adolescent behavior, including her many different outfits and
hairstyles which in truth she meant to keep her from being recognized. Sometimes all
Anna could do was grab some boys arm and sink her nails in briefly, or grab his neck on
both sides from behind and pull her nails back quickly. If she was careful and fast, she
could reach around and swiftly scratch one or both cheeks. If the place was crowded and
dark enough, and the boy was wearing short sleeves, Anna could do what she liked best:
claw the length of a boys arms with all her might. The rush she got was proportional to
how viciously she scratched and how horrificly he screamed. And many times Anna
barely had time to make her escape before she had to stop and lean against something for
support while she rode out her high. Only her best friend Jenny knew what Anna liked to
do, and Anna swore her to secrecy with the threat that if she told anyone, she would
suffer a worse clawing than she could possibly imagine. Having witnessed numerous
times what Annas long, manicured fingernails could do, Jenny was not about to betray
her. As Anna entered her teens she became even more tortured by her obsession with
her nails and scratching. She wanted desperately to be like the other girls, having
innocent little romances and going to make-out parties. She "liked" several boys in her
neighborhood but whenever she was near themor even thought about them, she felt the
overpowering urge to claw them as viciously as she could. She was terrified that she
wouldnt be able to control herself, and would get in a world of trouble. So Anna didnt
go to parties, and she was branded an outsider even though she was tall, slim, blond and
beautifulall the attributes a normal girl needed to be popular.
Andy Morton never had any chance of being popular. By his junior year of high school it
was apparent he was not having the same degree of growth spurt and manly
transformation his friends were going through. He was kind of geeky, and that limited
his opportunities with girls. Specifically, the kind of girl he desperately needed: one who
liked it kinky, someone with long nails and a short temper. Those kind of girls liked the
"bad boys", and Andy couldnt have pulled that look off if he tried. So he settled for a
fellow outcast, a waifish girl named Chloe with a brooding personality and black
lipstick…and black-polished fingernails that she cultivated to freakish lengths which,
frustratingly for Andy, kept her from being able to apply enough force to satisfy his need
for being scratched even though, at his subtle urging, she reluctantly agreed to shape
them somewhat pointy. And Chloe had taken a vow of abstinence-until-marriage, so at
the end of their senior year Andy was still a virgin. His reward for being patient was that
Chloe broke up with him on prom night…and then got drunk and high and fucked three
different guys before the sun came up. Home early and lying on his bed still dressed in
his tux, Andy closed his eyes and saw that image from second grade of Annas long,
dangerous fingernails poised before him. He got up and undressed, and shuffled to the
bathroom to wash his face. He stared at himself in the mirror and touched the little scar
under his right eye that Anna had left him, faded but still visible after all those years. He
didnt know how, but he knew he had to find her, if only to gain closure and move on.
In high school Anna recognized that her urge to scratch a guy was stronger the more she
was sexually attracted to him, and the combination of the two drives was overpowering.
Fearing the consequences of losing control, she was terrified to date. She got the
reputation of being stuck-up, frigid…there were rumors she was a lesbianall the
typical, hurtful things teenagers gossip when someone doesnt follow the herd. Only her
best friend Jenny knew the truth, and she was bound to secrecy. One night Annas
friends took her to a frat party at the local college, and a very nice-looking freshman hit
on her. She was a little drunk, one thing led to another and they went upstairs to his room
and locked the door. Anna lost her virginity, but it was the college boy who did most of
the bleeding. The music and shouting downstairs drowned out his screams as Anna raked
his naked body endlessly with her long, sharp fingernails. The viciousness of her assault,
and the sight of carnage it wrought surpassed even her worst imagination, and frantically
she dressed and ran from the room, leaving the poor young man moaning and clutching
his scratch-laced body. Anna ran for blocks, fueled by the massive outpouring of
adrenaline. She tried in vain to recall if it was the sex or the scratching that had made her
orgasmic, or if perhaps for her the two were inseparable. All she knew for certain was
that she wanted to do it again, and soon. As was the case when she was a young teen
scratching boys hit-and-run in the movies and video arcades, Anna became obsessed with
the high. Only this high was much stronger. By now Anna was drop-dead gorgeous, and
could get any guy to hit on her with just a look. She went out almost every night, like a
jungle cat on the prowl, to satisfy her need for sex and scratching. She found out that
nothing made a guy go soft as quick as ten razor-sharp fingernails carving their way
through his skin. Fortunately she found that denying herself the pleasure of scratching
until he was on the verge of cumming also heightened the intensity of her own orgasm,
and so she would wait until she could feel him start to cum and then whisper in his ear,
"Ill scratch you to shreds!" and bury her nails in him and begin to claw wildly.
After high school, Andy enrolled in community college and began working part-time to
pay for tuition and living expenses. In a class he met Kira. Kira kept her nails just over
her fingertips but she had very long and slightly-curved nailbeds and when her nails were
polished red as they almost always were, they appeared very long and sexy. One day
Andy and Kira both reached for the doorknob quickly at the same time and Kira
accidentally scratched his hand and left him bleeding. For Andy it was instant infatuation
and he asked her out. He wasnt really "her type" but out of guilt she accepted. She
liked him, and slowly found herself becoming attracted, and agreed to have sex with him.
In the throes of passion she scratched his back, and when she started to apologize Andy
had blurted out that he wanted her to do it, in fact harder. Although she was reluctant,
Kira was in love with Andy and complied. Nails like hers are very sharp, and when they
were done having sex and Andy got up, Kira was aghast at what shed done to his back.
Still, she was in love with him, and accepted his offer to move in. They were together for
almost two years, but although Kira clawed Andy obligingly during sex, he could sense it
was an obligation on her part, and he wanted and needed someone to delight in scratching
him. Eventually the relationship fell apart. The breakup left Andy more depressed than
hed ever been in his life.
Anna had begun at a university, but her obsession asserted itself over her studies and she
lasted only a semester. In lecture halls she couldnt concentrate if there was a guy sitting
next to her, because she would find herself staring at his arm wanting to sink her nails in.
She would watch him taking notes and be consumed with the urge to claw the back of his
hand. If there was a guy in front of her she had to sit on her hands to quell the urge to
swipe her nails on the back of his neck. She dated a few guys that she really liked, but all
the time she had to fight her urge to scratch them, and she knew the first time they had
sex would be the last, because there was no chance she could control herself in bed.
When she got horny she slept with guys indiscriminately who she barely knew, but word
quickly spread about her wild scratching, and soon she was shunned like a leper. Her
best friend Jenny, the only person who knew Annas tortured obsession, came up to visit
for a weekend and found Anna in her bathrobe with a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels.
Anna sobbed on Jennys shoulder for more than an hour while Jenny stroked Annas
blond hair. "Im never going to find anyone to love me," Anna wept. "Thats not true! I
love you," Jenny insisted, trying to comfort her best friend. Anna stopped crying for a
moment and raised her head. She reached into Jennys top and freed one breast, and she
began massaging the nipple with her thumb. Jenny froze and whimpered, "Anna? I
dont think Im…I mean, Im not…I mean…aaaaaiiiieee shit!" she screamed, gaping at
four bleeding welts Anna had suddenly scratched in her boob with a quick swipe of her
very long fingernails. "Yeah, I guess Im not gay either," Anna sighed, "That didnt do
anything for me at all."
After his breakup with Kira, Andy determined once and for all to find Anna and confront
her. He believed that seeing her now, grown up, might erase the image of her as a child
that symbolized his obsession with long-nailed women and being scratched. He also
assumed that odds were she now kept her nails clipped to the quick, as is the current
fashion, and the reality of that might very well kill his fetish. He did a Google search of
her name and searched MySpace and Facebook, but came up empty handed. He couldnt
imagine she still lived in the same city, and figured she could very well be married and
not using her maiden name. On a whim, he dug the white pages out from under a pile of
old magazines and discovered that although there was no Anna Porter listed, there was a
listing for an A. Porter, and when he called, an answering machine picked up with a
female voice that said, "Hi. Youve reached Anna. Leave a message and Ill get back to
you." Andy felt flushed, and quickly hung up. He hated leaving messages on machines.
What if she didnt return his call? Maybe she didnt want to, or maybe she never heard
the message. At least hed found her. Should he call back later? Or maybe just go
knock on her door. Yes, that was it! At least that way he was sure to get a look at her as
she was now.
The door opened as far as the chain would allow, and through the crack Andrew Morton
saw a beautiful face framed with long blond hair. "Yes?" she asked. "Anna Porter?" he
said. "Do I know you?" she asked. "Well…ah…we, um…went to elementary school
together. Im Andrew…Andy Morton," he said. "You must have me mixed up with
someone else," Anna said, "I went to a private all-girls elementary school." "Oh, Im so
sorry. I thought you were the Anna Porter I went to Jefferson Elementary with," Andy
said with dejection, "You even have blond hair and light green eyes and…" "Oh my
God. I did go there, but just until the first half of second grade. It was a terrible
experience and I sometimes block it out," she said. "I think I know why," Andy said.
Anna looked intrigued. "Um, Andy, would you like to come in?" she asked. "Sure," he
said. Anna closed the door and he heard her undo the chain, and then the door opened.
"Can I get you something? A drink?" she asked. "Im good," he responded. Anna
closed the door and walked to her couch and sat down, her arms folded with her hands
tucked under the opposite armpits, a lifelong habit she had whenever she was anxious.
Andy followed her and sat down, and the two of them half-faced each other with uneasy
smiles.
"You were a cute kid, but now youre really beautiful," Andy said. "Thank you," Anna
said slightly embarrassed. Andy sighed, "That was lame, I know. I bet you get it from
every guy you meet." Anna smiled demurely. "Im truly sorry, but I really dont
remember you," Anna apologized. "I think maybe Im the reason they kicked you out of
the school," Andy said pointing to the little faded scar under his right eye. Anna gasped
and asked fearfully, "Oh my God, youre that boy? Youre him?! W-why are you here?"
"Dont worry, Im not here to hurt you!" Andy smiled, and Anna seemed to settle. "I
wasnt exactly kicked out," Anna said, "What happened was my parents put me in a
private school for my safety." "Your safety?" Andy said with surprise, "The way I recall,
you could take pretty good care of yourself." "Not after the vice-principal and her
assistant got through with me," Anna said. Andy cocked his head. "I dont understand,"
he said. "They held me down and cut my nails off," Anna said, her voice breaking and
tears welling up in her pale green eyes. "Oh my God! I didnt know. That was barbaric.
That was…criminal!" he exclaimed. "Things are different today. Today my parents
wouldve sued their pants off," Anna said. Andy nodded in agreement. "I can tell its
still traumatic to you," he remarked, "Im sorry for making you remember." "Life goes
on…and nails grow back," Anna said wistfully, and feeling less anxious with Andy she
unfolded her arms and rested her hands on her knees. Andy saw her nails, still
extraordinarily long, and still carefully filed to the same blade-like taper. He felt flushed,
and he could feel his knees tremble. "Are you ok?" Anna asked, "Are you sure you dont
want a drink or something?" "Well, ok, maybe," he replied, feeling like his mouth was
stuffed with cotton. "Some wine?" she asked politely. "Sure," he answered.
"So…you still havent said why you came here," Anna said after theyd clinked glasses
and taken a sip of Cabernet. "Yeah I guess it was pretty strange, me showing up after all
these years…some guy from second grade you dont even remember," he said. "I
remember you now," she said casting a quick glance at her nails and then back at him, "I
really do apologize for scratching you like that." "Dont. I didnt come here for an
apology," he said resting his hand on hers. It had been a long time since a man had
touched her, and it felt nice. But at the same time she couldnt help but get that familiar
urge, the urge to scratch. His arms were bare, his face was close, her nails were so long
and sharp. It would be so easy, just a quick swipe, and she would feel that wonderful
rush wash over her like a warm shower. Anna gritted her teeth and slid her hand out
from under his and put both hands behind her. "Sorry, I didnt mean to…" Andy
apologized. "Its not you. Its me," she said quickly. "Youve got a boyfriend, right?"
he asked. "No, I dont, its not that…"she began and then stopped suddenly and asked
insistently, "Please tell me why you came here." Andy took a deep breath. "I…," he
began, and then froze. In all the years hed thought about seeing Anna again, all the
times hed played the scene over in his mind, he never contemplated the reality of telling
her about his long nail fetish! Hed never told anyone about it, not really. But if he told
her hed spent his life comparing every woman to the image of her as a seven year-old
leaving out the part about her nails and the scratching incident, she would think he was
some kind of lunatic pedophile! Andy started to rise. "This was a really bad idea. Im
sorry I bothered you," he said. "What? You cant just leave without telling me! Ill be
wondering about it for the rest of my life!" she exclaimed. Andy sighed, "Youll just
think Im insane." "I think youll find me pretty tolerant in that way," she said thinking
about her own compulsion to scratch which could definitely be considered insane.
Andy gulped down the rest of his wine and set the glass on the coffee table. Anna set
hers next to it and looked at him, intently but with the unmistakable non-judgmental air
of someone who was a compassionate listener. Hesitantly at first, Andy eventually told
Anna everything. Even after he was finished, she sat silently looking at him with
compassion. "Say somethingplease!" he urged her. "Wow," she said, "I ruined your
entire life. I feel so horrible." "No! Please dont feel like that! Its all on me. Its not
your fault. I mean, obviously that incident was traumatic for you too…what they did to
you after…yet youve obviously got it totally together and…ouch!" Andy cried, startled
by a lightning-quick motion of Annas hand and a sudden sharp pain down his arm as
though hed been slashed with broken shards of glass. Andy looked agape and saw four
long red bleeding welts from his shoulder to his wrist. At the same time, he felt himself
get hard. Andy said, "Im pathetic…and that was amazingly sweet of you, but you really
didnt have to scratch me." "Actually, I did," Anna said.
Andy smiled and half laughed, then he saw that Anna was not laughing. Her pale green
eyes were like searchlights sweeping his soul. He sort of cocked his head, she sort of
raised her eyebrows. She caught a tentative glimmer of dawning in his eyes and she
poised her hands before his eyes, her fingers slightly curved, with her extremely-long
fingernails looking like translucent daggers. His eyes widened, she gave him a subtle
nod, and a smile transformed her sensuous lips. "Can I kiss you?" Andy asked moving
closer. "Ok," Anna responded just as their lips met. They kissed once softly, and then
instantly exploded in a fury of passionate kissing and groping. Panting and moaning they
tore each others clothes off and licked and caressed each others naked bodies. Anna
spread her legs and wrapped them around Andy, and as she felt his hard cock press
against her mound, she stopped him momentarily. As if to give him one last chance to
change his mind, she looked into his eyes and warned softly, "Ill scratch you to shreds."
"I know you will," Andy said with a smile as he entered her.
-
A Woman’s Point of View
A Womans Point of View…by Nicole
Hi. Im Nicole. I found this group while browsing around, and it looked interesting to
me, because, well, Im female and I have long nails. I was kinda figuring on a bunch of
how-to tips on growing and caring for long nails, so imagine my shock when I started
reading. Oh, dont worry, Im not weirded-out or anything. I "get" that my long nails are
a turn-on, and I definitely like it. So after reading every story here, and found only one
written by a woman, who happens to be a lesbian, so I thought maybe some input from a
straight woman would be welcome. So here goes.
People always guess Im 25 or 26, and are shocked when I tell them Im 41. Its bizarre,
because Ive never had any work done, in fact I dont even use anti-aging cremes or
anything. I dont jog, or work out at a gym, although I do swim laps every day. I dont
need to color my hair either, its long and brown and I can still get by just plucking the
occasional strand of gray. I guess I was just blessed with good genes for staying trim and
toned and youthful-looking…if I do say so myself, haha. I also was blessed with good
genes for growing my nails, too, because even though I dont do anything to them at all,
like gels or hardeners or even polish, they just stay long and strong as they always have.
Occasionally if Im really brutal on them one will chip, but thats about it. Right now
theyre all about a half inch from the fingertips, which might not sound that long, but
believe me, a half inch is major length for natural nails. Plus, half an inch is as long as
Im allowed to keep them at my job. Before I got this job I had them an inch or more,
and I really do miss that length, they were so sexy. But I need the job, so, oh well. If I
get another job someday I will definitely let my nails grow super long again.
So after that long-winded introduction, let me go back and start at the real beginning of
my story. I always had a thing about my nails. Even when I was really little, I
remember I loved looking at them constantly. Especially when they grew a little and I
could look from the side and see my nails past my fingertips, and even more especially if
they were long enough I could see them from underneath. I hated to get them cut, and I
would cry every time. About the time I started school my brother was born, and my
Mom didnt have the time or energy to argue with me when I didnt want to cut my nails.
Besides, she had long nails, and so to make a long story short, thats when I started really
growing them. Most of my girl friends didnt have nails until they were in their early
teens, but I had them all throughout elementary school. In kindergarten they were like
maybe an eighth inch or a little more, so my teachers didnt pay much attention. Until
one day this boy put gum in my hair, and he started laughing, and I got really mad and
grabbed his arm and dug my nails in and clawed him as hard as I could. He screamed
really loud and was bleeding, and I got sent to the principals office and had to take a
note home to my Mom telling her to cut my nails. After that I knew I had to control my
temper if I wanted them to let me keep my nails long, but the other kids didnt know it
and as soon as my nails started to grow back all I had to do was make a claw and
everyone would back off. It was an awesome feeling of power. The older I got the
longer my nails were, and by the time I was in fifth grade they were just under an inch.
Then in seventh grade I decided to just let them grow and see how long they could get
before they broke, and I was shocked that they made it to over four inches and still hadnt
broken. Eventually by the middle of ninth grade I got tired of them that long and cut
them back to about an inch and a half, which is how I kept them until I got my current
job.
As a kid I grew my nails for me, because I loved how they looked. The other girls were
mostly jealous, except those couple years when I grew them to four inches, when most
everybody thought they were weird and/or gross and I became something of an outcast.
But there was this one boy, Charlie, who stared at my hands whenever we were nearby to
each other. Ok, having four-inch nails you get used to people staring at your hands, but
the way Charlie stared was different. He more like gazed, with this glassy look in his
eyes. One day I asked him, kinda jokingly, if he liked my nails. He turned bright red and
spluttered, "Uhhh….Uhhhh". Seeing how uncomfortable he was, and being thirteen I
naturally wanted to make him even more uncomfortable, so I rested all my nails on his
arm, and asked him again. This time he started trembling and whining. I figured he was
scared I was going to claw him, even though at over four inches I couldnt have scratched
him nearly as bad as I could scratch someone now, with my half inch nails. So I said
"Im not gonna hurt you" and stroked my nails up and down his arm really soft. Instead
of calming down he started to shake violently. Then I noticed the big lump in his pants.
For a split-second I was grossed-out, but then it hit me that just with a touch of my long
fingernails I had Charlie completely under my power. I mean, he was totally infatuated.
From then on Charlie was my absolute slave. He would literally do anything just to get a
close-up look at my nails. I think he would of killed someone if Id asked him, in return
for me stroking my nails on his arm. Ill never forget the horrified, tragic expression on
Charlies face that day in ninth grade I came to school with my nails cut back to "only"
an inch and a half long. I mean, mine were still by far the longest nails of anyone in
school, but Charlie just wasnt as into me as before. He was geeky-looking, a little
chubby and wore glasses, so its not like I was ever attracted to him, but still I felt sad
and a little angry that cutting my nails made so much of a difference to how he felt about
me. I think maybe I never quite "got" that he was into me only about my nails, that it
wasnt even a tiny bit my personality or even the rest of my looks. It was a good lesson
to learn, but I wasnt about to cut my nails really short just to be sure a boy was into me
for me. In fact I really didnt care. At that age I was pretty superficial (I probably still
am to some extent).
I remember my first makeout party when I was about fourteen, and this boy, I think his
name was Ned, wanted us to make out. He was arrogant and cocky and thought he was a
superstud (ok, Ill admit he was really good-looking). Ill never forget how he moaned
and whimpered when I ran my nails through his hair and down his neck and across his
back while we were kissing. Ned suddenly pulled away from me, all wheezing and
sweating and red as a beet, and he just got up and ran out. My friend Paula (who was
kind of a slut) started laughing and came over and way-to-god me for making Ned cum
in his pants. Here I thought Id done something to disgust him! God I was so naEve!
Ned was only the second boy Id "seduced" with my long nails, but I realized then that
Charlie hadnt been one-of-a-kind. I also realized my nails could hold a power over a
boy even if he didnt go apeshit over just the sight of them like Charlie did. As I moved
through my teens I found that my nails turned on the majority of boys. Even the ones
who made negative comments about their length at first, eventually succumbed. I
considered them a challenge to be met. I learned how to do stuff like picking things up,
or even just moving my hands, in ways that were really sexy to guys. If that wasnt
enough then Id find some excuse to softly scratch their faces and necks and arms.
Sometimes I made it look like an accident, so I could apologize and talk about my nails in
a really sexy voice. It always worked.
In high school I wouldnt do oral sex on guys like most of my friends did. I didnt even
give a guy a real handjob until I was a senior. I used to just stroke my nails all over them
while we made out, until they were ready to boil over, and then just drag my nails over
the rock in their crotches for a few seconds and they couldnt help but let go. I was very
popular! Finally when I was a senior and began giving handjobs my biggest problem was
making the guy last more than a second or two. Thankfully, 18 yr old guys can get it up
again right away. I was the last of my friends (probably the last girl in school) to lose her
virginity. It wasnt that I was purposely holding out. I loved turning a guy on with my
nails and then watching the look on his face as he gazed at my nails while I jerked him
off, and by the second or third time he came the guy didnt feel like screwing!
It was right after graduation that I finally lost my virginity, to the guy who was my
manager at Sunglass Hut where I worked. (Sunglass Hut was the only place that would
hire me without making me shorten my nails. I wish I could get by on that little money
now, or Id quit my current job in a heartbeat and let these puny half-inchers grow and
grow, hah!) Where was I? Oh yeah, losing my virginity, hehe… Well, so I was this
sort-of-still-partway-naEve virginal recent high-school grad with inch-and-a-half long
fingernails, and my manager, Dave, was 21 and gorgeous and a junior in pre-med home
for the summer, and he was gorgeous, and really smart and witty. Did I mention he was
gorgeous? The first three weeks working there I was constantly wet, running to the john
on every break to freshen up and hoping he couldnt smell how bad I wanted him. (Sorry
if thats gross, but its true). He was playing all this-is-a-professional-workplace
(probably they read him the riot act about sexual harassment in managers training class)
trying to be aloof, but that was only making me hotter for him. I put my long nails to full
use, gave him my sexiest hand-moves, tapped them on the glass counters. I especially
used to try on different sunglasses and ask his opinion, so he had to watch my nails while
I put the sunglasses on and off. Id think of questions to ask him, and wait until he
wasnt paying attention to me, so I had an excuse to touch his arm…with my nails of
course. Unlike the boys in high-school, Dave could keep it cool. Hed obviously had
lots of experience with women (which made him even hotter to me) and he seemed able
to resist me and my nails. Finally one day I made up my mind this was going to be the
day, and I got my friend to drive me to work so I could tell Dave my car was in the shop,
and even though he tried to beg off, I pleaded and almost cried until he grudgingly agreed
to give me a ride home. In the car I pretended I was exhausted and without asking I
leaned my head against his shoulder and it was on the freeway and he couldnt take his
hands off the wheel so he just let me (pretend to) sleep. While I was pretending to sleep,
I "accidentally in my sleep" held his arm and stroked it with my inch-and-a-half nails. I
peeked out one eye hoping to see his pants tent-up, but nada. Hed talked about his
girlfriend, so unless he was lying, he was straight. I couldnt figure it out, but we were
only about a half a mile from my house. I was horny and pissed-off and so I just sat up
and leaned against the door. My feet ached from standing on them all day, and without
thinking I put them up on the dash and flexed my red-painted toes. Dave stared at them,
so I apologized and said I hoped they didnt smell too bad and if he wanted Id take them
down. Thats when he started stammering and turning red, and I looked over and saw he
had a huge hard-on in his pants. Whod have figured the guy was into feet?! Anyway,
from there it wasnt hard. We ended up back at his place going at it hot and heavy, and
my virginity was history. I still think its ironic that after my whole teen years driving
boys crazy with my fingernails, it was my feet that got me laid the first time! Although
when we fucked, Dave seemed to enjoy me using my long fingernails on him almost as
much as I enjoyed using them. I say almost, because I did get sort of carried away in the
moment and leave some deep marks on his back. Evidently not so bad he didnt want to
do me again (and again and again, hehe) though. We carried on the affair all summer,
and then one day he proposed.
I was stupid to break up with Dave, but I was young and it scared me to think of settling
down for the rest of my life with the first guy I slept with, even if he was gorgeous.
Sometimes I wonder whatever happened to him. No doubt hes practicing medicine
somewhere, has gorgeous children and a hot wife…that couldve been me. Then I
wouldnt be stuck in my current job. And Id be able to let my nails grow super long
again.
-
ABOUT HER NAILS
ABOUT HER NAILS
David Munro was tortured daily by womens long fingernails. However, he had only
been scratched by a girl with long nails once in his life, way back in second grade. It had
happened also to other boys he knew of, but for some reason David couldnt understand,
from that day on he was obsessed with long-nailed girls. All through his school days,
whenever he saw a girl, the first thing he did was look at her nails. If they were long, he
felt a heatwave come over him, and he fell head-over-heels for that girl. If they broke, or
she cut them, Davids ardor would cool instantly. It really didnt bother David that much
during his youth, because at that age, everyone was fickle, and romance was generally
short-lived anyway. Plus, there were plenty of cute girls who wore long nails, so David
thought nothing about jumping from one to the next. Until, that is, he became an adult.
Then he began to see his friends and co-workers marrying or getting into meaningful
relationships. In addition, women he met were typically career-oriented, and kept their
nails "businesslike" short. Some of them would put on fakes for the weekend or for a
party, but fake nails didnt turn David on at all. Sure, he dated women with short nails,
even a couple nail biters. Beautiful, smart, sexy women, with whom David had much in
common and enjoyed their company. He had sex with them, good sex. Even great sex.
But David couldnt stop himself from wishing they had long nails, and he couldnt help
looking around at other women to check out their nails. Occasionally he would see a girl
with long, natural nails, and he would feel the lust come over him. Usually it was a girl
who was way too young for him, and that made David feel guilty and frustrated. Davids
relationships with short-nailed women always ended, either with him becoming
frustrated, or with him being honest with them about his feelings for long nails, and them
thinking he was a freak. And it wasnt as if David had a fetish desire to be clawed, which
he did not. Nor did he have a fantasy need for incredibly long nails, just a 1/4 inch would
be enough to satisfy him, and 1/2 inch would make his blood boil. So he wasnt
searching for sadists or dominatrices, or women with impossibly-long talons, just nice
women with sexy long nails. And yet, as one might expect if one chose ones partners
strictly on the basis of a physical trait, the few women with long natural nails that he
encountered, had the nerve to approach, and who agreed to go out with him, usually
turned out not to be his type in any way other than having long nails, and again, those
relationships ended. So although David Munro had only been scratched once in his life,
he was constantly tortured by long nails.
David had spent his early childhood in Bakersfield, a decidedly working-class town in
California, until his father ran off, and he moved with his mother and brother to L.A.,
where his mom remarried a great guy who adopted the boys and raised them as his own.
After getting his degree from UCLA, David started a dot-com company and luckily sold
it when it was at peak value, and had the good timing to get out of tech stocks and into
real estate at the right time, which left David with no pressing need to work a 9-5 job, so
he took on some consulting jobs now and then, travelled, and read a lot. He wasnt a
flashy sort, in fact a Porsche and a house in Malibu were his only decadent indulgences.
In fact, he had become so disillusioned with dating, due to his long nail fetish, that he was
becoming complacent with his solitude and found it less anguishing just to get by with
pictures of long nails on the internet. So David was definitely not cruising for women
when he stopped into a huge Barnes & Noble on his way home from L.A., and wandered
the magazine racks looking for a few interesting ones to replenish the stack in his
bathroom. As he squatted to get at the bottom rack, he detected someones feet in his
peripheral sight, and his eyes darted over briefly. It was a womans feet in flip-flops.
Young-looking, attractive feet with a french pedicure. Not the typical french pedicure
hed seen, with nails cut short and a white stripe painted at the end, supposedly
simulating nail growth but in reality making the pink part of the nail look even stubbier.
No, this was a french pedicure as it was meant to be, in Davids opinion: clear polish on
real nail tips that were allowed to grow out perhaps 1/8 inch beyond the ends of the toes.
Without seeing the rest of her, David already admired her for her understanding of nail
esthetics and for not succumbing to the long-toenails-are-gross mentality. And hers
werent negleted, unkempt long toenails, they were perfectly pedicured and polished, and
she had one tiny, classy toe ring on each foot.
David knew better than to turn his head and allow his gaze to follow up her legs, so he
began to rise, excusing himself for being in her way. "Oh, no, you werent in my way,"
she said, stopping him from rising, with a gentle hand on his shoulder. Of course David
looked at her hand to check out her nails. She had narrow nails and the pink part was
quite long. But alas, she had only about the typical 1/8 inch of growth that was in
fashion, and David was prepared for the usual letdown he usually felt when he didnt see
long nails. David continued to rise, and her hand trailed softly down his arm as he stood.
He was completely shocked and perplexed when he felt a hot wave of lust come over
him. Could it be, he thought, that he was beginning to outgrow his obsession for long
nails? He estimated the woman was around his age, very slim and athletic-looking, as if
she worked out regularly. She had streaked blonde hair, past her shoulders, and very
nicely styled. Her face was soft and youthful and she had a breathtaking smile. Her two
front teeth were just a little longer than the others, which David thought looked really
cute. He was so tired of the snow-white, artificially-straight caps that 99% of all the
women in L.A seemed to have gotten recently. She wore those oblong high-fashion
glasses, behind which a pair of sparkling eyes the color of freshly-brewed espresso stared
warmly into his. "Hi. My names David Munro. Whats yours? Will you have dinner
with me?" David blurted out. It was as if the words had come from someone else, as if
someone had used him like a ventriloquists dummy. "Oh, God, hey, Im sorry," he
stammered out a clumsy apology, "It just came out…I never just say things like that…It
mustve freaked you out…You must think Im a real sleazeball." The woman laughed,
"Its okay. I lived in Bakersfield till I graduated high school, so your line seems real
smooth compared to hey baby wanna ride in my truck?" David laughed, "Well, if my
folks hadnt split up the summer after second grade, I would probably be using that line
today." "Youre kidding? Youre originally from Bakersfield?" she said with some
shock, and she laughed, "Your neck isnt the slightest bit red." David chuckled, "Had it
lasered." And they both laughed. Then she said, "Chris. And yes." David looked at her
quizzically. "My name is Chris Gaviello," the woman said, "And, yes, Id love to have
dinner with you." David felt giddy down to his shoes. She slipped her arm under his and
they walked out to the parking lot.
The pair had dinner at a little bistro up the highway, and with every turn of conversation
and every glance, David became more attracted to Chris. The strangest thing was, he
couldnt take his eyes off her hands, which is what normally happened only when a
woman had long nails. Chris asked suddenly, "Is there something wrong with my face?"
David was taken completely aback, and couldnt come up with a response. She went on,
"Because you keep looking away from my face." "Oh, no, theres nothing wrong with
any of you that Ive seen," David said, and then realizing hed put his foot in his mouth
again, "No, wait, that came out wrong. I meant…aw, hell. Your face is fine. Its, I
mean, youre very pretty. You must be convinced Im a complete idiot." "Not yet, but
dont give up trying," Chris said with a wry smile, and she laughed. Such a warm laugh,
the kind that told him she was not the type of woman who needed him to be suave and
debonair. David breathed a sigh of relief and began to relax. Trying to put him even
more at ease, Chris winked at him and gently stroked the back of his hand with her
fingertips. To his surprise, David felt himself flush and get rock-hard, and he stared at
her hand. "I know, I need a manicure," Chris said, apologetically. "No, no! Dont!"
David said quickly. Seeing her expression was one of slight alarm, he cursed himself
silently, thinking that she must be starting to think hes weird. "Ok, ok. I wont. I
promise," Chris said apprehensively. David was certain now that she thought he was a
lunatic, and expected her to bolt from the restaurant at any moment. He figured he had
nothing to lose at that point, so he said, "The truth is, I happen to think long nails on a
woman are hot." David braced for the hes a freak, Im outa here look, but Chris didnt
bat an eye, she just looked at her nails and took a sip of wine and said, "Gosh, I havent
had really long nails since I was a kid." She laughed and shook her head, "I was such an
alley cat. The principal had to call my mom at least once a week because I scratched
someone up." "She made you clip your claws?" David asked with a laugh, happy that
Chris didnt suspect he had a "thing" for nails. "No…well…actually, in I think eighth
grade, I joined the volleyball team and had to have them short, and basically I kept them
sorta short ever since. Well, ok, I did get acrylics for my wedding." She saw the surprise
on Davids face and quickly said with her beautiful laugh, "The marriage didnt last that
much longer than those fake nails." David laughed.
They talked until the restaurant closed, and then David drove her back to the parking lot
at Barnes & Noble, which was now deserted except for Chriss BMW X3 and a few old
cars probably belonging to the janitors. David had his hand on the shifter and Chris
rested hers on top of his as he turned to her. It still surprised him that the touch of her
hand got him so hard. He leaned to kiss her, and at first she drew back ever so slightly,
but then she smiled and closed her eyes and they kissed. It was a magical kiss, which
made David feel like he hadnt felt since, well, since he couldnt remember when. As
they kissed, Chris stroked Davids hand with her fingertips, and he thought he was going
to come. "Ive got a place on the beach about three miles from here," David said. "I love
to see it sometime," Chris said, "But not tonight, ok? Its too fast for me." "What are
you doing for dinner tomorrow?" David asked her. "Depends," she said. "On what?"
David asked. "On what youre doing," Chris said, with her amazing smile. And they
kissed again, and this time they were both breathless when it ended. Chris got out of
Davids Porsche and he waited for her to get in her car and drive off safely before he
headed home.
David went into his dark house and turned on the lights. He looked around and the
silence was eerie. He couldnt remember a time in recent history when hed felt such
profound loneliness, or such intense longing for someone as he now longed for Chris. He
opened and closed his cellphone a dozen times, on the verge of calling her, debating
whether it was smart or not. He didnt want to look needy or nerdy or neurotic or…oh
hell, if she didnt feel the same way as he did he wanted to know now, before he got in so
deep he wouldnt be able to get out in one piece emotionally. If in fact he wasnt already
in that deep. "Hi, did I wake you?" David said when she answered. "Oh, no. I had to get
up anyway, to answer the phone," Chris said dryly. Davids heart sank and he pounded
himself in the head with his fist for being such an idiot. And then the sound of her
incredible laugh filled his head. "Youre quite a smartass, arent you?" he teased.
"Better get used to it," she said. David understood her to mean she was planning on
sticking around, and he felt extremely happy.
Making it through the night and the next day was hell for David. The seconds seemed
like hours. It was like he was a kid again, he hadnt felt like this with anyone in his entire
adult life. And, she didnt have long nails. He wondered, could it be he was finally free
of it? Around 3 oclock in the afternoon, Davids cellphone rang. It was Chris. "Hey,
David," she said, "Ive been having a really crappy day. Would you mind terribly if we
didnt go out for dinner after all?" Davids heart dropped to his shoes, and he actually
felt on the verge of tears. "David? Are you there? Hello?" she said. "Yes, I mean, no, I
mean, sure, I understand," he said, trying to hide the devastation in his heart. "Great! I
knew you would," she said. David felt like he was going to throw up. This was
ridiculous, he only met the woman yesterday, and theyd only kissed a couple of times.
"Ok, so, um," Chris said, "How about you come over around seven and well order
pizza?" David was suddenly on cloud nine again. His stomach felt like hed been on a
roller-coaster. "Wait," David said, "Youre the one who had the crappy day. How about
you come over here and Ill cook dinner for you?" "Deal!" Chris said with enthusiasm.
"Hey, bring your bathing suit," David said, "Nothing better after a crappy day than
relaxing in the hot tub."
"Its open," David shouted from his kitchen island, when he heard Chris knock. She
walked in, and Davids heart already started to race. She was wearing a short, white silk
wraparound cover-up that accentuated her sexy curves. As soon as she entered she
stepped out of her flipflops and walked barefoot to where David was cutting vegetables
for a salad. He could hear the sound her damp feet made against the polished marble
floor, and he watched her shapely legs and sexy pedicure come closer. Chris came
alongside him and asked, "Can I help you with that?" "No, no. Ive got it covered,"
David said. Chris stood behind him and put her arms around his waist. "Well then, mind
if I help myself to an appetizer?" she asked softly, beginning to undo his belt buckle.
"Hey hey, Master Chef at work here!" David said. Chris pouted, and she pulled up a high
counter chair and sat next to David as he continued to prepare dinner. "So youre going
to tease me," she smiled, "I like that." She had her bare feet up on the chair, her arms
wrapped around her legs, and her fingers clasped. David could barely concentrate on
what he was doing, and nearly cut his fingers a couple of times. Finally the salad was
done, and David said the main course would be done when the oven bell rings. He
popped a bottle of champagne and poured two glasses. Handing one to Chris, he raised
his and said, "To a crappy day that will soon be forgotten." Chris clinked her glass
against Davids and said, "And an amazing night that will always be remembered."
"That was incredible!" Chris gushed after they ate, dabbing her sexy lips with her napkin,
"Did you go to chef school or something?" "Nope. Picked it up from The Food
Channel," David said. "Honest?" Chris said, "Wow, if you learned to cook that well
from cable, I hope you get Playboy Channel too." David was discovering that Chris had
kind of a raunchy sense of humor, and he loved it. He handed his glass and the bottle to
her and pointed her toward the hot tub on the deck, where a huge red-orange sun was just
level with the Pacific ocean. "Ill be there in a few," David said, and went to his
bedroom to change into his trunks. When he returned, Chris had placed the champagne
on the ledge behind the hot tub and she was stretched out on a chaise lounge, watching
the afterglow from the sun that had now fully set. "Have you ever seen anything more
beautiful?" she asked David, who immediately responded, "Yes I have." Chris turned
with a look of surprise, but then she saw he was looking straight at her, and she smiled
that amazing smile. David stepped into the hot tub and sat down. "Cmon, go change
into your bathing suit!" he urged her. "Oh, crap, Im really sorry" Chris hesitated, "I
didnt bring it." "Oh, no!," David said, "I cant believe you forgot it." "Who says I
forgot?" she said, unwrapping her silk cover-up and letting it slip slowly down her body
to the deck around her lovely, pedicured feet. David watched with his mouth open as
Chris body was revealed to him in all its nude splendor, and as she slowly and gracefully
slithered into the hot tub, never for an instant taking her eyes off his. David started to
move toward her, but she raised her glistening-wet foot above the water and pressed it
against his chest. "My turn to tease," she said. Chris reached behind her to her bag and
got her iPod out, and plugged it into the dock near the hot tub. The strains of Van
Morrisons Into the Mystic filled Davids head as she gently scrunched his chest hair
between her toes. David caressed the top of her foot, and as he did he felt her other foot
on his thigh, and then her toes playfully grab his trunks. "Are you going to take those
off, or am I going to have to come over there and do it?" she asked. Either way was fine
with him, but it didnt look like Chris was in a hurry, so David took off his trunks and
tossed them back on the deck. In a heartbeat she was stroking his hard cock between her
soft soles. David was amazed at how soft and young her feet were. He felt such erotic
pleasure that he worried he was going to come embarrassingly, but just then she stopped.
Chris seemed to float over to him, and David embraced her as she tenderly held his neck
in her hands and her soft lips touched his. He could feel her kiss excite every cell in his
body. Chris wrapped her legs around David and as Van Morrison sang "I want to rock
your gypsy soul, just like in the days of old", she slowly took his erect cock deep inside
her pussy. Momentarily they looked into each others eyes, and Chris smiled her
irresistible smile before softly closing her espresso-colored eyes, and she resumed kissing
him. The next-up song on Chris iPod was Morrisons Tupelo Honey, and the two
lovers moved together to the slow, lush melody. "You have incredible taste in music,"
David whispered. "For a gal from Bakersfield, you mean? You were expecting to hear
Buck Owens?" Chris whispered back, smiling. "No," David said, "Fogerty, maybe."
Chris laughed out loud, "Hey, baby, I can screw to CCR, no problem. How strong is
your back?" Davids intended comeback was drowned by his own gasp and moan as
Chris tightened her legs around him and began to gyrate her pelvis with incredible force.
"Sweet Jesus," he said hoarsely. Chris slowed her pace again and looked in Davids eyes
with a mischevous twinkle. "I take belly-dancing three times a week for the workout,"
she said.
Tupelo Honey started to repeat. "Do you have, like, a special mix, just for sex?" David
asked quietly. "Actually I stayed up last night putting it together just for us. Do you
think thats creepy?" she asked. "Creepy? Its the sexiest thing anyones ever done for
me," David said. Chris sighed and kissed David again. With each kiss, he felt himself
falling deeper and deeper for her. What truly surprised him was that it didnt scare him,
as such feelings had in the past. David felt Chris breathing get deeper, and she was
moaning very quietly. Gradually she was moving faster, and him with her. To keep
himself from slipping down, David spread his arms out along the rim of the hot tub.
Chris leaned into him and trailed her hands along his arms. She began gently stroking the
backs of his hands with her fingertips, and David felt himself start to come. He let out an
audible gasp and jerked reflexively. Startled and confused, Chris opened her eyes. Still
breathing heavily she whispered, "Sorry! I told you I needed to cut my nails, remember?
Ill try to be more careful." "N-no, its not that," David said, still gasping a little, "You
didnt hurt me. Really. Its a long story. Please, dont stop." Chris had been incredibly
turned-on, so she didnt question him further, and went immediately back to stroking his
hands with her fingertips. And just as immediately, David came, hard. "Shit! Im sorry.
Im so, so sorry," David cried, breathless. Chris looked at him quizzically. "What for?"
she asked very sincerely. "You werent finished," he said, with shame and
embarassment. "Oh, baby. For me it was like one long orgasm that started the second
you were inside me," Chris said, "And anyway, it feels to me like youre good to go
again." David realized that it was true, he was still hard. They continued their slow,
incredible lovemaking through several more songs…Linda Ronstadts Heart Like A
Wheel, Carly Simons Anticipation, Brook Bentons Rainy Night In Georgia, and a
couple others. Songs David hadnt heard since he was a child, but which perfectly
matched the occasion and would undoubtedly burn it indellibly into his memory for the
rest of his life. Chris avoided touching Davids hands until she was near sensory
exhaustion herself from the pleasuring, and then she gently caressed his arms and scraped
her nails across the backs of his hands, and he came. Chris poured the glasses full of
champagne and handed one to David. "So," she said, clinking her glass against his, "Tell
me the long story."
"Huh?" David said, still recovering from the amazing sex, "What long story?" Chris
gently scraped the back of his hand with her fingernails. David gasped deep, and he and
Chris both looked down and saw that he was almost hard again. "That long story," she
said. David leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "Whew!" he said, "Im afraid
youre going to think Im some kind of freak." "Try me," she said. "Ok," David said, "It
started back in Bakersfield, in second grade." "You started having sex in the second
grade?" Chris said facetiously. "Hey, if youre going to make fun of me…" David said.
"No, no, sorry. I wont. Please, go on," Chris promised. "So, there was this girl, we had
this puppy-love kind of thing…you know, we called ourselves boyfriend and girlfriend
and we walked around holding hands. Well, one day she caught me talking to another
girl. I mean, we were just talking! Anyway, my girlfriend went nuts and she dug her
nails into my hands. She had long nails…I mean, really, really long nails for a second
grader anyway, and she really clawed the shit out of my hands. I was crying and
bleeding all over the place and the teacher had to take me down to the nurse and get me
patched up. That was almost the end of the year, and then we moved away." David
paused. "And?" Chris said, "There must be more than that." David took a deep breath,
and then he spilled it all, about how ever since that time he has had a thing for women
with long nails. He told her all the details, everything that tortured and embarassed him.
"So let me ask you a question," Chris said finally, "Just how much less do you want me,
because my nails arent long?" David could hear that she was confused, hurt and a little
angry, and he felt her slipping away and his chest tightened up and he had trouble
breathing. "Oh, God, Chris. Thats just it: Ive never, ever gotten turned-on by anyone
before as much as you turn me on," he cried. "You mean, anyone with short fingernails,"
she said. "Yes! I mean, no! I mean…" David stuttered and rambled, feeling his life
crashing down. Chris stepped out of the hot tub and hurriedly put on her cover-up and
gathered up her belongings. "Id really better be going," she said quickly, "I have a plane
to catch in the morning." David quickly pulled on his trunks and went after her, pleading
for her to stay. She said, "Listen, David, I like you. I mean, I really like you. I was, I
mean, I think I could really…but Ive had too many relationships with guys who had
issues and I dont want that anymore." "But thats just it," David said, "For some
reason, for some wonderful, mysterious reason, its no longer an issue. Not with you."
Chris sighed, "Look, Im leaving tomorrow for a month in China on business. I really
cant deal with a guy who thinks Im the answer to his problems stemming from some
girl way back in second grade who scratched him." Chris kissed David softly on the lips.
"Goodbye, David," she said. "I know it sounds totally ridiculous, but its the Gods
truth," David protested. As Chris opened the door she said, "Oh come on, David. I bet
you dont even remember that little girls name." "Tina," David said, "Tina Sprunk."
Chris paused for a moment, but then she quickly walked to her car and drove away.
David locked the door and turned around. His house felt like a tomb, and everywhere he
looked he felt Chris absence. The empty hot tub, the empty champagne glasses, the
empty plates from dinner. All of it reminded him of her, and of what had happened.
Once again he was tortured by long nails, only this time was the ultimate, because he had
felt an indescribable connection with Chris. David poured himself a large glass of
whiskey and chugged it down. He thought about swallowing everything in his medicine
cabinet, but being a health nut, all he had was Tylenol, and he knew that an overdose of
that would destroy his liver and hed die an agonizing death. He thought about just
walking out into the ocean, but he doubted he could allow himself to remain under water
long enough to drown. He didnt own a gun, his oven was electric, and he was really
squeamish about the sight of blood, so stabbing himself or slitting his wrists was out. He
concluded that he was even too much of a coward and a loser to take his own miserable
life. David didnt want Chris to think he was needy and neurotic and also a stalker, so he
resisted the urge to leave messages on her voicemail. It was over, she was out of his life,
and there was nothing he could do about it.
David spent the next month never leaving his house. He ate everything in his cupboards,
but really didnt have much of an appetite. And he drank everything in his liquor cabinet.
He sank deeper and deeper into despair. He didnt bother to recharge the battery in his
Blackberry or turn his computer on to check his e-mails. Finally, out of food and drink,
and hungry for dinner, David decided to order groceries, so he put his Blackberry on the
charger and turned it on. There were about fifty voicemails and a hundred text
messages, all of them from Chris Gaviello. The last one was from a week ago. David
felt his heart start to race, and he could hear his blood rushing in his ears. Quickly he
punched return this call and it rang and she answered. "David?" she said softly, "I tried
calling you for weeks. Finally I gave up." "I had my phone off. I didnt think you
would call me, and I didnt want to talk to anyone else," David said. "Im really
sorry…Look, I just got back this morning. Can I see you?" Chris asked, "Ill understand
if you dont want to, but I really need to. Its really important." "Of course I want to see
you. When?" David said. "How about in ten seconds?" Chris said, "Im pulling into
your driveway."
Chris was not expecting to see David looking like such a mess, and she stopped in her
tracks in the doorway, standing in the drizzle with her hands in the pockets of her
raincoat. "Sorry, I didnt have time to shave," he apoligized. "For a month, it looks
like," Chris said. "Yeah, well, I had stuff on my mind," he said. "Me too," she said,
"Um, can I come in?" "Sure. Make yourself at home. Im going to get cleaned up a
little," he said, and headed for the bedroom. "Im sorry!" Chris yelled after him, "I did
this to you." "No you didnt," his voice trailed off toward the rear of the house. "Yes, I
did," she shouted, and then she heard the water running in the shower.
Dave was startled by a tapping on the shower door. He opened it a crack, and Chris was
standing there wearing only a towel, her head bowed and her hands behind her. "Can I
wash your back for you?" she asked. David opened the door wide and turned around as
Chris dropped her towel and stepped into the shower with him. Silently she began to
soap his back. Chris held her naked, wet body against Davids and kissed the back of his
neck. She slipped her arms around his front and gently took his cock in her hands.
Quickly it grew hard, and David looked down. What he saw took his breath away.
Chris fingernails were about 1/4 inch long. "You like?" she said, spreading her fingers.
David spun around and faced her, but instead of joy, she saw hurt and humiliation in his
eyes. "I told you, with you it doesnt matter whether your nails are long or short," he
said, "Why dont you believe me?" "I do believe you, David," she said, "If I didnt, I
wouldnt have come back." "So then, why did you grow your nails?" he asked. "Dont
you think they look sexy? If you want, Ill cut them right now," Chris said, to which
David said, "Thats not fair!" Chris said, "Well, its not like I dont like them. I really
do like how they look. And its the least I could do for you." "Chris, you didnt do this
to me!" David said, shutting off the water and helping Chris out of the shower. "Yes,
David, I did," she said quietly, holding him by the shoulders and looking deep into his
eyes. He started to speak but Chris put her long-nailed finger to his lips. "Sit," she said
softly, and sat down on the bed next to him, "Promise if I tell you something that youre
not going to storm out like I did." "Its my house," David reminded her, "But ok, sure,
whatever, I promise." She took a deep breath and started "Ok, like I said, I did this to
you…" "Chris, why do you insist on blaming yourself?" David interrupted, "If anyone
did this to me it was little Tina Sprunk in the second grade back in Bakersfield."
"Yeah, about that…" Chris said, "It seems that little Tina Sprunk was actually little
Christina Sprunk, who later on when she became a jock made everyone call her Chris,
and then one day she married an asshole named Tony Gaviello and she kept his name
after they got divorced because, well, it sounded a helluva lot nicer than Sprunk." There
was a long, uncomfortable pause. "Please, say something!" Chris begged. "You knew,"
David cried, "You knew the minute I told you her…I mean, your…name. Why didnt
you tell me then? I wanted to kill myself after you walked out." Chris sobbed, "I know.
Im sorry. I guess I just cant help myself from hurting you. First it was with my nails in
second grade, and now this. Im just so, so sorry. I freaked when I found out it was me
who messed up your life, and I was afraid of what youd say or do if you knew." "Why
did you come back and tell me," David asked. She answered, "Because, David. I think
Im in love with you." "You think youre in love with me?!" David shouted, grabbing
her by the shoulders, "You think? Dont you know? I sure as hell know Im in love with
you!" Chris smiled her sexy, irresistible smile. "Im like 99.9% sure I do," she said, and
she laughed her wonderful, infectious laugh, "And I bet in an hour from now itll be
100%." "Whats going to happen in the next hour?" David asked. She gently scraped
her new long fingernails against the backs of his hands, and she smiled when he drew a
deep breath and his cock sprang to attention. "Oww!" David cried, as she dug her nails
slightly into his skin. "Youd better never touch another woman as long as we live," she
warned him with a half-smile. "I swear, I was just talking to that other girl back in
second grade!" he said. Chris put her iPod in the dock next to Davids bed and hit
play. As they began to make love for the first time as a real couple, Chris scratched
Davids back softly with her long fingernails, and the room filled with the sounds of the
Rolling Stones… Under My Thumb, The girl who once had me down, Under my
thumb, The girl who once pushed me around, Its down to me, The difference in the
clothes she wears, Down to me, the change has come….
-
ACTUAL LONG-NAIL EXPERIENCES
Here are some of the responses that have come in from group members. Keep them
coming!
"I was the oldest child and had two younger sisters. When I was growing up in the late
50s and
early 60s to mid 60s lots of younger women in the US tried to grow their nails. All the
sexiest
female Hollywood stars also had long nails.
The first experience I remember was when I was about 6 years old. I visited my
grandfathers
house which was huge, and two of my older female cousins were also there. They were
about 3
to 7 years older than I. We were in an upstairs room secluded from all the adults. Anyway
I
somehow got both of my older female cousins to scratch my back. The main thing I
remember
was it was an exciting experience and I got both girls to compete and see which one
could
scratch my back the best.
Then when I was in about the 2nd grade or so I remember getting almost all the girls on
the school
bus to scratch me mostly on the hands and underside of the wrist. I even got a
competition going
to see what little girls in the neighborhood could grow the best nails."
__________________________________________
" I was about 6 years old and got into a fight with another kid. I had him down on the
ground. All of a sudden I felt this terrible pain on my neck. It was his mother, she had
her long claws dug into my neck while digging her high heel shoe in my bottom. She
dragged me off him and told me if I ever hurt her son again she would use her long
nails to scratch my eyes out. From that moment on I guess I had the fetish."
________________________________________
"Back in middle school there was this girl named Cassandra (but everyone called her
Cassie) who I had gone to elementary school with and been friends with since
kindergarten. She was pretty cute, long hair and big eyes and a really nice personality,
but I didnt really pay too much attention to her, we were just basically friends, although I
think she had a crush on me for a while in 6th grade. Anyway, the first day of eighth
grade I went up to Cassie to say hi and she said hi and waved at me and shed grown her
nails really long over the summer. I remember I got this weird feeling in the pit of my
stomach, and it was like some kind of spell came over me, and I fell instantly in love with
her. But she didnt feel that way about me (and I probably made it worse by acting like a
moron, I could barely talk to her I was so infatuated with her nails) and so it was pure
torture because I had to endure watching her with some other guy. She would hold hands
with him and lightly scratch his neck and back and stuff, and it drove me nuts. Then
about a couple months later she came to school one morning with her nails all cut short.
She said her father made her cut them after she got in a fight with her little brother and
scratched him up. It was like the spell was broken, I wasnt in love with her any more. I
was relieved, but then I also realized how much long nails meant to me."
____________________________________________
"I was maybe 7 or 8 and we used to carpool to Sunday school and one of the moms was
really young and pretty and she had extremely long nails, always filed down not quite to
points but sort of rounded points, and she kept them polished frosty pink. I remember I
would always be excited when it was her turn to drive because I loved to look at her
nails. The car was a Plymouth and it had an automatic with pushbuttons instead of a
lever, and I remember she would use her knuckle so she wouldnt bust a nail. When she
drove shed tap her nails on the steering wheel to the beat of the radio. After that I knew
I was hooked on nails."
_______________________________________________
"My best mate had a younger sister who was about 13 when I was about 16. She had a
thing for me but of course I wanted nothing to do with her, she was after all just a child to
me. She flirted with me, but being 13 she was rather clumsy at it, and being 16 I had no
compassion at all, and was rather abrupt in the way I put her off. One day I was over by
my mates and wed been playing football and it was hot and my mate went to take a
shower. I was lolling about shirtless when his little sister came in and offered me a cold
water. When she handed it to me she laid her hands before me and asked me if I fancied
her nails. Shed let them grow since Id seen her, and they were quite long, from 0,5-
1cm. Being a complete arse I said, and I quote, "Theyre ugly, like you." She turned red
and screwed up her face and it seemed as if she was about to start bawling, but suddenly
she hooked all her nails into my bare chest with all her strength and then dragged them
downward. It hurt terribly, and left me with ten bloody gashes all down my front. I still
recall the smile of evil satisfaction on her face just before she turned and left. I didnt
know it at the time but ever after Ive been taken by long nails and being scratched."
_______________________________________________
"I have dated quite a few longnailed gals but the one experience that stands out above all
the others as being the best, happened when I was a junior in college. I think of that
incident often and it still gets me excited. I was living in a co-ed dorm and one day this
freshman girl I sort of knew had this friend visiting for the weekend from another college,
who came and knocked on my door on Saturday night. The girls name was Nikki and
she was kind of hippie-looking, she had on a long billowy flowered skirt and an old army
fatigue jacket and she was barefoot. She had really long hair, like down to her waist, and
it was very thick and tangled, and she kept having to push it back off her face. Which is
when I noticed her fingernails. They were all different lengths but all very long. Some
were over 1" and others were at least 1/2", they werent polished or manicured, it looked
like she just let them grow until they broke. All in all she wasnt extremely beautiful but
she was cute and she had a kind of dirty-sexy quality and especially her nails really
turned me on. Nikki said her friend told her I always had weed (which was true) and that
I could sell her some (which was not true, I never ever dealt, as I never could be sure who
was a narc). So I told her no, but then she went, "So okay then can I get high with you?"
and I said sure. So we went into my room (I had a single) and sat on the rug Indian-style
facing each other getting high. Nikki was a real stoner, that I could tell by how much
smoke she inhaled each time she took a hit, and she didnt really talk much, she mostly
was there just to get stoned. When she passed it to me she could hardly wait to get it
back and she did stuff, nervous stuff, like examining her feet (the bottoms were pretty
dirty) and picking and cleaning under her toenails (which it looked like she hadnt cut in
a while). But I was high and what she was doing was getting me hard. She was staring at
my crotch, and out of nowhere she goes, "So, um, do you feel like screwing?" and I said,
"Sure!" Right then she reached out and unzipped my jeans and started rooting around
inside, poking and pricking me with her long fingernails and finally she pulled my dick
through my fly, and she unfolded her legs and moved forward against me and she reached
under her long, loose skirt and I felt her take my dick in her hand and she wasnt wearing
underpants because she just guided my dick into her pussy. Nikki put her chin on my
shoulder with her face next to mine and started grinding. No kissing or foreplay or
nothing. But what happened next was the part that makes this the best long-nail
experience.
We had our arms around each other, and Nikki started scratching my back. I could feel
her nails catching on my t-shirt. It was an old shirt and pretty thin from being washed a
million times, but suddenly she just ripped it apart like it was paper! Then she started
scratching my skin, first it was normal but then she started clawing me really deep. I said
something like "Hey! Ow!" but Nikki just went, "I know, my nails are insanely sharp,"
but she kept right on scratching the hell out of me until we both came. I asked her to
spend the night but she said she should get back to her friend, but that it had been nice. I
remember checking my back in the mirror after she left and shed really clawed the shit
out of me. I never saw Nikki again but I still have the t-shirt she ripped up with her
nails."
_____________________________________________
"The first time I became aware that long nails had an effect on me was in sixth grade.
There was this girl named Sandy who was in my class and because they sat everyone in
alphabetical order and our last names started with the same letter, we sat next to each
other. In the beginning of the year her nails were typical, like just a little white/clear
showing, but after a couple of weeks I noticed that she hadnt cut them. They were
growing very quickly and by week three they were around 1/4" and it was obvious she
was letting them grow on purpose. As for me, I then realized I was really interested in
them, and couldnt keep myself from sneaking looks at Sandys hands when she wasnt
looking. A couple times she caught me at it, but she just gave me a dirty look and didnt
say anything. With each passing week Sandys nails got longer and longer, until by
Xmas vacation they were at least 3/4" or more, and none of them had broke, and I was
completely obsessed/infatuated with Sandy. After X-Mas she came back to school and
her nails were cut back to maybe 1/8" and when I saw it I was devastated. I could see
over the next week that they were growing again, and I prayed every night that the next
day they wouldnt be cut. She grew them really long and then cut them and then re-grew
them twice more that year, and I was like on an emotional rollercoaster.
PS, from seventh grade on Sandy kept her nails just under 1/4" because she had to play
on the girls volleyball team, but later on in high school Sandy and I started going out, and
after I was in tight with her I mentioned one day if she remembered how back in sixth
grade she used to have long nails and she said she couldnt believe I remembered, and I
confessed I thought she looked really sexy with them, and she gave me kind of a sly
smile and stopped cutting her nails until they were almost 1". To this day I kick myself
for letting her get away."
_____________________________________
"My best mates mum had extremely long red nails, and I cant ever forget sitting
transfixed on them whilst she smoked 100mm cigarettes. By the time I was in my teens I
fancied her secretly in the worst way, as she was quite fetching even in her early forties.
She was divorced and when I was in my late teens I could swear she looked at me "that
way" whenever I was about, but I couldnt ever bring myself to approach her."
_______________________________________
"My first long-nail experience was also my best, at least so far, and its been a long time
since. It was the summer between my freshman and sophomore year in college, and I
was working at a sporting-goods store. There was a jewelry store across the aisle, owned
by a Thai guy, and his daughter was working there for the summer. It was at least fifty
feet from where I worked to the counter where she spent most of her time, and yet I could
see she had long nails! One day on break I sort of wandered nonchalantly into the store
pretending I was looking for a gift for my mom, and holy shit, that girls nails were at
least 2" long! (Oh, and she was gorgeous too!) When she started showing me stuff she
asked me if I was ok, because I was pale and sweating and my hands were shaking. I
dont remember what I said, probably I just stuttered incoherently, but I remember what
she said: "Its my nails isnt it. You think theyre freakish, dont you." Somehow I
managed to screw up the nerve to tell her I thought just the opposite, and she gave me
this really big smile and touched my hand with her nails. I almost fainted, but I asked her
for her number. She said her father forbade her to date non-Thai guys and even though
she wasnt a minor she had to respect her fathers rules in his house, so she couldnt give
me her number (this was before everyone had cell phones, and before e-mail and all that).
But she said she was going out with her best girlfriend that night and where shed be if I
wanted to meet her. Her friend had a non-Thai boyfriend she was keeping a secret from
her parents, and Michelle (my girls American name) would cover for her. I realized she
was kind of on the wild side (as many girls from strict homes are), and the address shed
given me was the house her friends boyfriend shared with a few other guys. Michelle
took me by the hand and led me quickly to a back room where there was a waterbed, and
she lit up a joint for us, and one thing led to another and we had sex. Damn that girl was
incredible. Her nails were too long for hard scratching, but she about drove me insane
with soft scratching, all over my body, and while she did she kept on talking about her
nails, how long they were, and how much she loved to use them, and how much she knew
I liked it. Michelle just couldnt get enough sex, and we fucked constantly, like a couple
of rabbits, for the rest of the summer. There was no future for us because she had to
marry a Thai or get disowned by her father, so she broke it off when we had to go back to
school, but Ive never had sex like that again, or had anyone with nails that long and
sexy."
_________________________________________
"Im very much attracted by womens long toenails (provided theyre not all thick and
snarly, and its an attractive woman). The first time I found it out I was twelve. My
parents were away for the weekend and left me in charge of my seven year-old sister, and
she had a night-terror and came running into my room screaming. I tried calming her
down by talking to her but she wouldnt stop crying and insisted on climbing into bed
with me. I suppose I hadnt seen her barefooted in a while, because I was shocked that
her toenails were outrageously long. A good several mms of clear-white nail on all her
toes. I made a remark that she ought to pare them, but it was the middle of the night and
I just wanted to get off to sleep again. She was quite unnerved still, and she clung to me
like a barnacle, but again, I was exhausted and just happy she drifted off to sleep quickly.
But every so often Id awaken with a start because shed scratched me with her toenails,
which were atrociously sharp. By morning my legs were covered with little marks and
cuts, but from then on Ive been fascinated with long feminine toenails. My sister still
wears her toenails a bit long, and has some of the loveliest feet Ive ever seen. Or maybe
its just that she was the first to introduce me to long toenails.
But the best long-toenail experience happened when I was much older, a group of us
were seeing a movie, and this girl, Ill call her Deirdre, was sitting behind me. Id never
given her a second-look before, she was overly-tall and gangly, not particularly fetching,
and she wore thick-rimmed spectacles. About midway through, she put her feet against
my seat and started scratching my back with her toenails. It felt wonderful, and then she
put her ankles up on my shoulders and I could see from the light of the movie screen that
her toenails were remarkably long, perhaps a half-centimeter or so! I started getting
hard, and I began stroking her ankles and massaging her feet, and she curled her toes
against my fingers. After while I leant my head back and she had this intense look on her
face and she was breathing rapidly. The seat next to me happened to be empty and
without saying a word Deirdre climbed over and sat down and we started snogging and
kept it up until the movie finished and the lights came up. Then we went back to her flat
and snogged some more, and she said her mum would be home in an hour. I figured that
meant she wanted me to leave, but instead she pulled me to her room and locked the door
and started tearing my clothes off. I swear she about shagged the life out of me. She
could wrap those long gangly legs of hers clear round me and she dragged her long
toenails up and down my back and legs. She scratched hard, too, like a wild animal, and
she had rather long fingernails as well. Afterward whislt she was quickly dressing, she
admitted itd been her first time, and I admitted itd been mine too. Its a miracle she
didnt get pregnant."
____________________________________
"My best experience so far was at my friends wedding. I was there with my gf at the
time. She was really cute and had a great personality and we had most things in
common. I know thats supposed to be the most important stuff, but as far as sex went,
there was something missing, which was her nails. She had stubby, weak nails that
wouldnt grow, and the fake ones just looked weird and, well, fake on her. So we were at
the wedding and I was pretty wasted and I was slow-dancing with one of the bridesmaids
and she had really beautiful and very long fingernails, like probably just under an inch,
and one of her hands was in mine where I was staring at her nails, and her other hand
was on my collar, and she was wasted too and she started lightly scratching the back and
side of my neck, and needless to say she gave me a hardon and she could feel it because
we were dancing really close. So then she asks me if Ill come outside and keep her
company while she has a smoke, and I look over and see my gf is busy jabbering with
some girls, so I say sure why not. So she says her cigarettes are in her car, which is
parked way down in the big parking lot, and when we get there she opens the door and
pushes the seat forward and gets in the back and she grabs me with her gorgeous bare feet
and starts pulling me in. I resisted for a second, but I see under her bridesmaids gown
shes not wearing anything, and there was her pussy all wet and waiting. Jammed in the
backseat of her car, I manage to get my pants down and my dick out, and then Im inside
her and she goes, "I hope you like it rough" and before I can say anything back she goes
"Coz thats the only way I do it" and digs those long talons into my back and scratches
the shit out of me. She clawed my back, my chest, my arms, and when she was cumming
she dug her nails into my asscheeks like she was trying to tear them off. I never felt
anything hurt so much in my life. Or had anyone turn me on so much either.
So then we go back inside, and my friend (the groom) goes "Dude, I cant believe you
got laid right under your gfs nose. Youre fucking going to hell you know that?" And I
say, "Dude, Ive fucking just come from hell" and I give him a peek inside my shirt to see
all the fresh claw scratches. "Thats one crazy fucking cunt!" I tell him. Just then his
new bride, whos also wasted, goes, "Dont call my sister a cunt, you prick!" and she
curls her fingers and I see shes got nails almost an inch too, and before I can blink she
scratches them down both sides of my face at once. The two sisters just stood there with
their arms around each others shoulders laughing while I stood there bleeding on my
rented tux shirt."
____________________________________________
-
ACTUAL LONG-NAIL EXPERIENCES 2
Here are second file set of more responses that have come in from group members. Keep
them coming! They are so interesting and great to hear everyones experiences!!
"When I first became aware I was captivated by girls nails was at summer camp between
fourth and fifth grades (so I was 10 yrs). It was a boy/girl camp but of course there were
separate cabins, yet we were all together for meals and hikes and many activities except
sports. It seems that these three girls at the beginning decided to have a contest to see
who could grow the longest nails over the summer, and pretty soon there were about ten
girls in on it. I think a few of them already had some nails when they started, but kids
nails grow really quick, and camp was ten weeks long, so by the end of the first month,
there was this whole group of girls with really long nails. I knew there was something
different with me, because the rest of the guys werent interested other than if one of
them picked on a long-nailed girl he knew hed get scratched, but I was fascinated with
their nails and couldnt stop sneaking peeks at them. But at that point I just liked to look
at them.
A few of the girls were hellcats with mean tempers who knew up front that nails made
really great weapons, and they in turn taught the others. Nobody dared pick on them of
course, but also after while everyone without nails were like slaves to them. You either
did what they said or you got scratched bad. Thats again where I found out I was
different. The other guys were scared and hated to get scratched. Me OTOH I found that
I liked it, and tried to provoke the girls into clawing me. It wasnt hard either, because
most of them seemed to get as much of a thrill from scratching as I got from being
scratched. It was a great summer!"
_________________________________________
"When I was around eight I had this babysitter named Colleen, who was fourteen. She
had long black hair and was really well-developed if you get my drift, and she wore tiny
shorts and went barefoot in the house. I was madly in love with her and dreamed
someday Id marry her. She thought it was adorable that I had this puppy-love thing for
her and she sort of encouraged it, in an innocent kind of way. Colleen also had extremely
long fingernails, Im guessing they were about an inch and a half, so not freakishly long,
but definitely much longer than average. And they were narrow and they curved slightly,
not like hooks but very graceful. As you can see, her nails were a major part of her that I
was in love with.
When Colleen came to babysit me, she would always do her nails. I would sit spellbound
watching her, and Im sure she liked the attention and the fact I liked her nails, because
she was very into them herself. She would take her polish off and stretch her hands out
and slowly move her fingers like she was clawing something, then shed file them really
carefully and then shed paint them very slowly. She used to concentrate very hard, and
shed lick her lips back and forth, which I thought was an incredible sight. Colleen also
sometimes did her toenails, which werent long but they were beautiful, and once I
begged her to let me do it and she let me, and she said I did such a good job she let me do
it from then on. While I did her toenails I would get Colleen to scratch my back, which
felt incredible. Especially after she just filed her nails they were very sharp, and she used
to tell me to tell her if she was doing it too hard, but I never did. Shed tell me very
concerned that she was making red lines all over my back, but I would beg her not to
stop, and shed shrug her shoulders and keep scratching. I think she enjoyed seeing her
nails making scratch lines on someone. I still dream about Colleen, that Im a kid again
and Im polishing her toenails while she scratches my back."
___________________________________________
"My best experience: One time when I was 16, my parents took my younger sibs to
Disneyland and were afraid to leave me home alone (for good reason <grin>) so they
took me along. They couldnt get tickets where we could all sit together so I grabbed the
one seat that was away from my parents/sibs. It was an evening flight and I wanted to
just chill or maybe sleep. There was just one seat next to me and I was praying nobody
would sit there, but fearing it would be some fat old lady or guy. But then this really cute
girl comes and sits down! I mean, she was hot! Tight top, nice rack, shorts, amazing
legs, cute pink toenails, long hair, big blue eyes and full lips, with lots of makeup…the
full-on slut package. At first this chick ignores me like Im beneath her, but then the
stewardess stops the drink cart near my seat and the girl whispers to me how about
sneaking a few of those little liquor bottles off the cart while the stewardess isnt looking.
Get vodka, she tells me, so it wont smell on our breaths. So I grab like a half dozen little
bottles of Smirnoff and she takes them from me quickly so she can hide them in her purse
till the stewardess goes by. Thats when I notice this chicks fingernails were extra long.
I knew I was attracted to girls nails, but Id never seen someone my age with them that
long and it got me really excited. She sees me staring and she smiles and asks me if I
like them and I try to play it cool but my tongue is like paralyzed and I just blabber some
nonsense and she giggles and gives me a little scratch on the arm. I start almost
hyperventilating. So then she tries to open one of the bottles but she cant, so I do it for
her, and we looked around to make sure nobody was watching, and we drank up all the
bottles one after the other. Well, I drank 2 and she drank the other 4. But, I was the more
wasted one. Definitely, she was more used to alcohol than me. So we start talking about
unimportant shit, like what music we like, and that sort of thing, and suddenly she rests
her head on my shoulder and holds onto my arm, and she starts stroking it with her long
fingernails, which is making my blood boil. Im so turned on Im sure Im gonna
explode in my pants, and I sort of try taking her hand away but I cant bring myself to.
So she smiles and giggles, and she lifts up my short sleeve and starts scratching the upper
part of my arm. At this point Im like ready to pass out from excitement, and I lean over
and try to kiss her. At first she backs away, but then she puts her hand up to my face and
gives me a light scratch on my face, and takes me by the neck and pulls me toward her,
and I see shes closing her eyes and opening her lips, and then we kissed. Right away she
stuck her tongue in my mouth, and she kept on scratching me slowly with her long nails.
The feeling was incredible, but also she was doing it to my face really close to my ear
and I could hear her nails skate over my skin, and it was like nothing before. I get a little
bold and let my hand slip onto her cleavage, but she brushes my hand up. But then she
pulls a blanket over us and I put my hand back and this time she lets me, so I go further
and further until Im inside her shirt feeling her nipples. Id never felt any before except
through a girls shirt, and it was really exciting, but mainly I was completely blown away
by the feel of her nails on me. She was really going at it, too, as she was getting more
excited she was scratching me faster, up inside my shirt and around on my back. I put
my hand on her leg and start moving my hand up higher and higher, but when I get
almost there, she grabs my hand and pushes it down. But then I feel her hand on my
crotch! And she starts rubbing the bulge, and then she starts scratching her nails over it.
Im dying and going to heaven! So I reach under the blanket and unzip, and she stops
kissing me and I open my eyes and shes got this kinda scared look on her face and she
sorta shakes her head no, and I give her this desperate, pleading look, and she rolls her
eyes. But then she kinda smiles, and suddenly I feel her stick her nails through my fly
and even though my underpants are there it feels as if her nails are scratching my dick. A
few seconds was all I managed to last. I tell her shes amazing and that her nails are
incredible. She sighs and says she just spent the summer with her dad and didnt cut her
nails the whole summer but now she has to go back to her mom in LA where she lives
most of the year, and in a couple weeks school starts so shell have to cut her nails back
like they were in the spring (she points to like half the length they are now). I tell her Ill
be staying near Disneyland for the next couple weeks, so maybe she can come see me.
She says thatd really be cool, shed love to, but she sighs and says she doesnt have her
license yet. I sigh too, and I ask her when shes getting it. She says really quietly, in like
3 years. 3 years?! Fuck! She was only 13! Fuck! Oh well I guess it was a good lesson,
cause suddenly I realized my old man was right when he warned me about jailbait, and
from then on I was very careful."
__________________________________________
"Its funny how the simplest thing can wake up a fetish that lasts a lifetime. I was in
middle school, and there was this mousey-looking girl named Jody who didnt have any
friends and hardly ever talked. Me and my best bud were messing around in study hall
and he whispers hell pay me $5 if I kiss Jody on the lips. So I take the bet and go up to
Jody who was sitting alone in the study hall, and I bend over and kiss her. She doesnt
try to get away so I figure, what the hell, and keep kissing her for like a minute. When
Im done, Jodys like frozen, with this mortified look on her face. Finally she goes,
"What was that??!!" And I go, "That was me kissing you." Without batting an eyelash
she reaches up and just as I see shes got really long fingernails, she hooks them and
rakes my face. I scream from the pain and slap my hands up to my face, and Jody goes
"That was me scratching you. " Then she just goes back to her reading like nothings
happened, and Im standing there looking at the blood on my palms. Had the nail fetish
ever since."
_________________________________________
"I grew up in a small town and girls and women just didnt wear long nails, it was
considered dirty and not ladylike. Can you believe that? To me its the most feminine
thing there is! Anyhow, I saw long nails in the movies and was hooked from an early
age, but I didnt see a real live girl with long nails until I moved to a big city for work.
At my office there was this girl, she was like in her early 20s and really tall and skinny
and not stylish or anything. The other guys called her a dog behind her back in fact. But
she had long fingernails. Well they were probably no more than a quarter inch but at that
time they were the longest Id ever seen up close, and I had a permanent hard-on any time
I was around her. I was younger and shorter than her and so I was shy about hitting on
her, so I just thought about her every night and…well, you know. Anyhow, summer
rolled around and she came in to work one day with open shoes and I caught a look at her
feet and she had almost as long toenails as her fingernails. At that point I couldnt hold
back any longer and I asked her out. She accepted right away and we went out to dinner
and I held her hands and she thought it was coz I was really romantic (she had no idea I
just had to feel her nails), so when I took her home she asked me if I wanted to come in,
and I did, and then we sat on her couch and she took her shoes off and put her feet out on
the coffee table and I was staring at them and she asked me if I thought her feet were too
big! She had no clue I was looking at her toenails! I was just holding her hands rubbing
her fingernails and checking out her toenails and she looks at me really strange and Im
thinking "Shit! Busted!" and shes going to throw me out. But then she just says, "I dont
get it, you asked me out, I asked you up to my apartment, why arent you trying to get me
to fool around?" And I dont know what to say, and she thinks Im like chivalrous or
something, and thinks its really cute, and she just jumps me. Itd been a long time since
shed had a date, and she went totally wild. God could that girl bone! And I made sure I
got scratched plenty too. We dated for like 2 years."
______________________________________________
"When I was fifteen, it really sucked to be me. I was really short and skinny and had
awful acne and a squeaky voice, and all the guys would bust my balls and the girls didnt
want nothing to do with me. There was this diner we use to go to hang out, and there was
a waitress there named Carla, she was nineteen, typical Italian-American Jersey girl, big
hair, big tits, big mouth, big attitude, always chewing gum. Carla had these longass nails
though, that were really sexy. All the guys my age used to hit on her but shed just put
them down in there place. I never hit on her, I figured if she didnt go for the big, good-
looking guys she definitely wasnt going to give me a shot, but Carla thought I was a
"gentleman" and shed do stuff like cut me an extra-big slice of pie and generally be nice
to me. So one day the guys were being especially rough on me about my appearance and
saying Id never get a girl, and Carla comes over and takes me by the hand and leads me
in the back room and locks the door, and then she backs me onto an old couch and starts
moaning and screaming like shes having an orgasm. After a couple minutes she stops
and winks at me and takes my hand and starts for the door and she tells me now the guys
aint going to tease me no more. I tell her no way there going to believe we had sex, and
she thinks for a second and then she pulls my shirt up and reaches behind me and digs her
superlong fingernails into me and claws my back really hard. Shit I almost passed out it
hurt so bad. At first the guys called bullshit but when they saw the scratches on my back
they all got quiet, and they never busted my balls again. In fact after that the
neighborhood girls started looking at me different and I got laid pretty soon. It was weird
though, because from then on the best sex was always when a girl had nails and clawed
my back.
__________________________________________________
"The summer when I was 12 my parents sent me and my younger brother to spend a
month with my dads uncle and aunt on their ranch in Texas. They had some Mexican
families who worked and lived on the ranch, and one of them had a daughter who was my
age about. She was really cute and she spoke pretty good English. She had dark skin and
eyes and really long black hair that she always wore some kind of flower in it. I was into
her right from the start, because she was so pretty and also different-looking from any of
the girls in my town, but there was something else different too. She also had long nails
the likes of which Id never seen on any of the girls I knew. Her nails were beautiful, just
naturally shiny and strong and a little curved and sort of oval-pointed, I guess youd call
it. The first time I saw her she had her back to me, and first I noticed her really long
black hair, but then right away I was drawn to look at her hands which were at
her side with the backs to me and I could see her long nails past her fingers.
It was like fireworks went off inside me. I spent the rest of the time trying to be around
her as much as possible, looking at her nails but trying not to let her see that I was
looking at them. She was the kind who touches you a lot when she talks and stuff, and
every once in a while Id get a brush of her nails on my skin and Id get really turned-on.
I was completely in love with her, and she was too but she was "a nice girl" and wouldnt
do anything more than just kiss, sort of quickly and without any tongue. The very last
day when I had to leave, she cried, and after we kissed she slowly drifted her hands
down my arms with her nails touching me the whole way, and the look she gave me, she
definitely knew what her nails did to me!"
___________________________________________________
"My first experience that gave me my nail fetish happened way back when I was five.
One of my neighbors had a pool party and me and their daughter who was also five and I
were playing in the kiddie pool and for no reason all of a sudden she dug her fingernails
into my arm and clawed me like a cat. Her nails werent that long but definitely could
see them past her fingertips and they were sharp as razors and there were long, bleeding
scratches on me. She wasnt mad at me or anything, she just smiled. I think she had a
crush on me and scratching me is how it came out. From then on I was always looking at
girls nails first thing and the longer the better."
____________________________________________________
"My mom used to have long nails ....around an inch long. I remember her using them as
a tool to reprimand her kids off and on, but the first time when I felt a fetish was when I
was around 8 yrs old and my younger bro was about 3. We went on a picnic and there
my brother started crying out loud for no apparent reason at all. We all tried every thing
we could but he didn.t stop. Then my mom took out an apple and said to my bro "here
look" and then she started peeling off the skin of the apple with her nails. The best thing
in it was that she peeled off all the skin with amazing neatness. Not only did it made by
bro stop crying but also made me a nail fetishist for life."
_________________________________________________
"Ive been an admirer of long sexy toenails for a while. I have had one girlfriend who
kept them long and indulged my fetish. But what happened to me recently was
incredible. As I was walking across the parking lot to pick up a few groceries, a woman
wearing long silver toenails caught me eye. Usually I stop and look, or walk by a few
times to get a closer look, but these were so nice I had to ask her about them. I told her
she had the most beautiful toes I had ever seen. She told me she was from Laos. I asked
her if her nails were always that long, and she said they are usually longer! The nails on
the big toe extended about of an inch and the others were of an inch long. I bent
down and she gave me a close look! She slipped her feet out of her sandals and showed
me her soles and under her toes! I could see all ten toenails reaching over her toes! She
was so nice! I wanted to touch them so I slowly moved my left hand towards her right
foot. As I touched she scratched my palm! She put that foot back in her shoe and slipped
her left foot out again. I reached with my right hand for her left foot and she scratched
the top of my hand! Her nails were so hard and strong! I said, "Wow I want to take
pictures!". She laughed, I laughed, and we went our separate ways. It was the best
random long toenails experience I have ever had!"
_________________________________________________
"When I was 12 I went to school as per normal and I had an assignment
to hand in
with me. So I'm in the locker room and one girl named Bec comes past
and just
snatches my papers. I say give it back and she doesn't so I pinned her
right
arm by the wrist against the wall so I can get my papers back.
Suddenly I feel a pain in
the top of my hand. After 2 seconds of intense pain I let go and jump
back and see
my hand bleeding. I was so freaked at how much damage she did in only
2 seconds
and how much it hurt. As I turn to run she takes a swipe at my
shoulder but
luckily missed."
____________________________________________________
"It was my first week in high school (9th grade) and one of the other
9th grade girls reached through the lunch line and snatched the last
chocolate cupcake out from under me, so I go "Hey who do you think you
are?" and she goes "Definitely not a loser like you" and her
girlfriends all laughed at me. So after I got my tray I went over to
her table and grabbed the cupcake and smushed it in her face and go
"Now who's the loser?" Suddenly this other girl goes "You are, you
little asshole!" and I go "Who the hell are you?" and she goes "I'm her
sister" and she stands up. Well, she was like a junior or senior and
she was really tall, like way taller than me, and she's got her hands
all clawlike at me, and I see her fingernails are gargantuan! They
weren't exactly pointed but not straight either, and they looked really
sharp. She grabs at my arm and I pull away but she catches me a little
with her nails and it's like an explosion of pain and I see I've got a
row of bleeding scratches all the way from my elbow down. So I turn to
run but she grabs the back of my neck with her nails, and then she
takes her time ripping up my back and arms with the nails of her other
hand, meanwhile her sister and friends are cheering her on going
"Scratch him harder! Do it as hard as you can!" By the time she was
finished with me I was all tore up like I'd been in a knife fight. And
I had a nail fetish started!
-
ACTUAL LONG-NAIL EXPERIENCES 3
"Maybe I was born with a nail fetish and this experience just woke it up, but it was
definitely bizarre. I was ten years old. My folks were both teachers, and in those days
they made very little money, so we ended up living in a crappy apartment complex with
some pretty low-life neighbors. One day I was out on the swings when this little red-
headded girl with a face full of freckles came up to me holding a kitten. I guessed the
girl was about six or seven, and the kitten looked like it was only maybe a couple weeks
old, very tiny and had its eyes closed and it was spreading its paws with its little claws
out. But what made me do a double-take was that the little girl had claws too! Her
fingernails werent super long (Id say under a inch) but they were all cut like an
upside-down V, in other words, to sharp, arrow points. I just stood there staring at them,
thinking how dangerous they looked, and trying to imagine how much it would have to
hurt if she scratched me. I remember going cold and numb, and my legs were shaky but I
couldnt walk or run. She stood there petting the kitten for about a minute and then she
looked at me and asked if I wanted to pet it. I remember starting to reach out and my
hand was shaking. She said, "Dont worry, she wont scratch you." Just as I got near,
the little girl made a hissing noise and did a quick scratching motion at my hand. I
screamed and pulled my hand back, and she burst out laughing and walked away. I dont
think she was really trying to scratch me, but to this day I dont know for sure. I never
saw her again, but after that I became obsessed with long fingernails, and the ones that
really get me going are pointed ones."
_________________________________________
-
Afternoon With Me
Afternoon With Me…by Nicole
Hi its me Nicole again. Its been a while since I wrote anything. I know you missed me
but things have been utterly insane lately. Two major things happened. First, I got laid-
off from my job. Strangely it didnt upset me as much as I thought. Probably thats due
at least partly to the fact I hated that job, hated my bosses, and especially hated their
stupid rule about not allowing nails longer than a half inch. I had been depressed the
entire time with them that short. I know a half inch is really long these days, but for me
its short. An inch is when I start feeling "myself": always sexy…and always horny. Do
you find that disturbing? No? Good. I didnt think you would. I bet you wish your wife
or GF was like that!
On that note, Ive been letting my nails grow since I got laid off, and theyre right around
an inch at present. I know its hampering my job search, but at this point I really dont
care. Female personnel managers are the worst! Ugh, women in power positions in the
workplace these days have like a grudge against long nails. I guess they think letting any
woman be feminine in the workplace will set all women back. Im proud to be hot and
that I can work it to get what I want. Dont get me wrong, Im not a slut, I wont sleep
with someone just to get ahead. But I will flirt for all its worth! Anyway, I think Ill
keep my nails at an inch because any longer than that and I dont think anybody will hire
me for any decent job.
So now the second major thing that happened: The latest guy I was seeing barely
tolerated my nails at a half-inch, in fact he was always hinting around that I should cut
them. When after I got laid-off I started growing them even longer, he kept on me until
one day he said to the effect of "its me or the nails". I dont have to tell you which one I
chose. So Im single again also. Im actually happier though. I dont do monogamy
well. Thinking all the way back to my teens, I cant remember even one guy I was
completely faithful to. What can I say? When I see a guy Im drawn to it doesnt matter
if either of us is single or not, Ive got to have him. And ten times out of ten, I get him.
Probably helps that I still look like Im twentysomething even though Im almost 42. I
mean, Ive got a really youthful face, and my body is awesome. Seriously, I wish you
guys could feel my boobs and my ass, theyre like an eighteen year-olds… and a hot
eighteen year-old at that. I know, I know. Youd all rather feel my nails. Hahaha, its
cool, Im totally down with that! I love it when a guy asks to feel my nails with his
fingertips, because then I know for sure hell like to feel them on his back. And
someplace else too, wink wink, hehehe.
So here I am at one in the afternoon just waking up…unemployed, single, gorgeous, and
with inch-long fingernails that make me horny just looking at them. Thats pretty much
the reason I texted you to drop everything and come over right away. Sorry my hairs
still wet, I just got out of the shower. You look shocked that Im naked. You dont have
to look away. Im proud of my body. I want you to look. Is it getting you hard? It had
better, haha! Here, come sit close to me on the bed while I towel my hair. On second
thought, sit behind me and you dry my hair for me while I put cream on my arms and
legs. Wait. Better still, Ill dry my own hair and you put cream on me. I think well both
enjoy it more that way, hehe. And when my hairs dry Im going to stroke your arms
with my fabulous inch-long nails while you put cream on my long, sexy legs.
I love stroking you with my nails. I lavish in the power it gives me over you. Let me
know if my nails are getting you overheated and Ill let you cool down a minute…before
I heat you up again, hehe. Take deep breaths. Lets see how long you can take me
stroking my nails up and down your bare arms. How long can you endure feeling their
sharpness excite all your nerve endings? How long can you stand listening to the
crackling hiss they make on your taut skin? Get behind me and put your arms around me.
Fondle my breasts while I rake your arms gently with my hot, sexy long nails. Be gentle,
my nipples get very sensitive when theyre hard like they are right now. Ohhh, yes…
thats perfect. Kiss the side of my neck, I love that. Oh my god, Im getting so wet!
Would you like to feel? I insist! Give me your hand. See? I told you. Ok, I confess, I
had an ulterior motive for getting your hand on my pussy, hehe. Pleasure me, slowly.
Oooooh, yes! Put your middle finger deep inside. I promise I wont bite, haha! Let me
lie back against you. Mmmm, you feel so nice and warm and strong. Keep fingering me.
Fondle my boobs with your other hand. Oh my gosh, I can feel my orgasm building.
Kiss my neck some more. Bite it gently. Oh god, I feel like Im about to explode. Ohh,
ohhh, ohhhhhh! Yesssssssssss! Ohhmmmm, that was amaaaaayzing! I havent had an
orgasm in almost a day, and I was really starting to climb the walls. Thank you, thank
you, thank you! My nails would like to reward you….so…take your shirt off…
Would you like it soft or hard? Hehehe, not your dick, silly. Your dick doesnt have any
choice except be hard when Im around. I meant, would you like me to scratch soft or
hard? Hahaha, "yes" doesnt answer my question! Oh, I get it. You want me to do it
any way that turns me on. Awesome. You know I like being in charge. You understand
me so well. Thats why I adore you. That, and because nothing turns me on more than a
guy whos into my nails. They are splendid arent they! Just look at them. So long and
strong. Such a lovely taper. At an inch now you can see just a slight hint of a curve.
How sexy is that! Lift up your arms. Dont my nails feel amaaaaayzing stroking up and
down along your ribs! How about your back? Do you like me scratching your back? I
love doing it. Skin on the back is thicker, did you know? So I can scratch harder and it
isnt distractingly painful, just tantalizingly arousing. By the way, I have really soft, wet
lips. Haha, yes, that means I want you to kiss me. Its so cute you had to ask. Shy guys
make me so hot! They make me want to dig my nails into their back and rake hard, like
this…
Lie down so I can kneel on top of you. Its time for your chest to meet my nails. I like
drawing circles around a guys nipple with my pointer nail, starting a few inches out, and
gradually working my way in…in slow, lazy spirals…each one a fraction of an inch
closer to the center…closer and more sensitive…each spiral more exciting than the one
before…slowly raising your level of arousal a degree at a time, until my nail is circling
just outside your nipple, skipping lightly over those little bumps. Around and around.
Then I strum my thumbnail back and forth across your hard nipple. And then I lean
down to kiss you. You can feel my soft hair brush your face…the humid warmth of my
breath on your lips just before they touch yours. But I dont kiss you yet. First I lick the
tip of my hot tongue around your lips once, and then I gently probe it between them.
Open your mouth for me. While I kiss you hard and deep, I pinch your nipples between
my sharp nails, just hard enough to make you seethe with desire. You want me more
than youve ever wanted anyone or anything in your life. You want to feel my hot, wet
pussy swallow your hard, throbbing cock, while I scratch you passionately with my sexy
inch-long fingernails. Feel my pussy begin to take you inside. Feel my hot, wet pussy
lips grasp the head of your cock. You want to be all the way inside me. I want you, too,
but its more exciting if I tease both of us. My nails want to rake your body. Tell me
how much you want me. Tell me. Beg me. Ohhhhhh, god! Ohhhhhhh….yessssssss!
Mmmmmm, I just had the most delicious orgasm…just with only the head of your cock
in my pussy! Whew! I have to lie back and catch my breath for a minute. Oh, Im sorry
sweetie! I know you wanted to fuck. Poor baby. Here, Ill massage those sore balls for
you. Oh dont pout. What if I use my nails? Hehehe, see, I knew that would help!
Mmmmmmm, it feels so good to arch my back, and stretch my arms and legs…kind of
like a cat. Do you think Id look amazing in a tight vinyl Catwoman leotard? Yes? Me
to. Buy me one. Hehehe, sure Ill wear it for you! Just for you? Is that your way of
saying you dont want me to be with other guys? I could promise that, but itd be a lie.
Is that a deal-breaker? (She asks, raking her long, gorgeous nails slowly down his arms,
hehe). Hahaha, I didnt think so. Whoops! Calm down! Im not quite ready to start
again. Im still enjoying the warm fuzzies from those two delicious orgasms you gave
me. Tsk tsk, oh my, my toenail polish is all chipped. I need to do them right now. Dont
whine. If you stop whining Ill let you watch, otherwise Ill make you go in the other
room. Hehe, thats better! Hand me that bottle of polish remover from my nightstand,
will you please? And some of those cotton balls. Thank you, youre my darling. Aw,
you have such a sad look on your face. Whats the matter? Are your balls all achy from
not cumming? Yes? Do you need me to release you? Yes? Would you like me to give
you a handjob? Yes? With my nails? Would you like me to stroke your cock with my
beautiful, long, sexy nails? You would? Yes? Okay, lie back.
Hehe, your cock is standing up like a pole. Gosh, its so hard! And smooth. I dont
know which is smoother, your cock with its skin stretched so tight it shines…or my long,
delicate, feminine fingers. What do you think? Arent my fingers the softest youve ever
felt? Like velvet, arent they…but then, here come my nails…so hard…and so sharp!
Im barely scratching your cock with them and you can still feel how sharp they are. Can
you imagine if I pressed any harder? My gosh, I bet my nails would cut your delicate
cock-skin in an instant. Hah, you look so terrified. Dont worry, I promise I wont
scratch him hard. After all, he has to perform for me in a little while, hehehe. May I kiss
him? Hehe, no it doesnt matter what you say, Im going to do whatever I want anyway.
I only asked to be polite…and to tease you. Im such an evil girl. Evil can be very sexy,
cant it! Nod if you agree…I know you cant speak right now, not while my lips and my
nails are toying with your hard cock, driving you wild. Tell me how bad you want me.
Tell me how much you want me to lower my hot pussy onto your cock and ride you like
a wild beast while I scratch you with my nails. Ahhahahahaha, ooooooh I love hearing a
guy beg me to get on top of him. It makes me want to claw like a tigress. Do you want
me to get on top of you and screw you and claw you like a tigress? With my long, sharp,
sexy claws? Do you? Tell me! Yes? Yes? Ah drat, Im sorry. Its no good. I just
cant stop thinking about my chipped toenail polish. Weve got to take care of that right
now…to put me back in a sexy mood. You understand, dont you lover? No? I suppose
youd have to be a girl to understand. Oh well then youll just have to deal with it.
Poor baby. Ive got an idea: here, let me sit behind you and wrap my long legs around
you…and while you take the old polish off my toenails, Ill give your back and shoulders
and chest a slow, sexy scratching with my fabulous inch-long fingernails! Hahaha, I
thought youd like that idea. Oooooh, my nails feel great, dont they. Tell me how
wonderful I am. I love to hear it…especially while Im stroking you with my long nails.
Hey, careful! I know Im driving you so wild youre shaking like a leaf, but dont spill
the polish remover on my bed! By the way, Im loving you un-polishing my toenails.
Youve got really strong hands. Thats really sexy in a guy. Want to know a secret?
Feeling your strong, warm hands holding my feet and touching my toes, plus the cooling
sensation from the polish remover is getting me excited. I love the smell of polish
remover, too. That mixed with the scent of your sweat is getting me super horny. You
can tell, I bet…because Im scratching you faster and harder…and biting the back of your
neck. Caress my legs. Kiss them. Oh, wow, youre getting me so wet! Wed better
stop, or else we wont get to polishing my toenails, hehehe. Yes, yes, I know you dont
care. But I do, and thats what counts.
Hey, chill! The quicker I polish my toenails and they dry, the quicker we can get back to
making love. Here, let me sit facing you and use your tummy for a foot rest. Hehe, of
course I know where my heel is resting. Hahaha, your cock likes when I rub my heel up
and down the shaft. Ok, ok, Ill stop. In a second….hehe. Deep breaths. Keep taking
deep breaths. Hahaha, I love how I can reduce you to a bowl of shaking jello. Alright,
hand me the bottle of polish. Not the pink one, the bright red. I like having hot red
toenails when I have sex. It puts me in the mood to fuck like a wild jungle cat. And I
know thats how you want me to fuck you. Do you? Then say it. Hehe, awesome!
Youre so under my spell! God it makes me hot! Hmm, with polish on I didnt realize
how long my toenails had grown. Just look at them! I bet theyre almost a quarter of an
inch long. I better cut them. No? Why not? Tsk, I bet the real reason why youre saying
theyre sexy is you dont want me to take the time to cut them now. Honest? Hmm, you
know, I see your point. I kind of agree with you, they are feminine and attractive. I
wonder what would happen if I stretch my legs out and put my feet against your chest,
like this…and curl my toes like this…and slowly rake my toenails all the way down to
your tummy, like this…and…hehehehe, oh my gosh, I dont think Ive ever made a guy
gasp that loud before. Wow, you really like me scratching you with my toenails! You
know what that means dont you? Haha, it means Im going to do it again. And again.
Hehehe, you love it! Thank them. Thank my feet. Take them in your warm, strong
hands and kiss them. Ohhhh, yes! Yes! No! What are you stopping for?! Dont stop!
Lick between my toes. Lick my long toenails. Yes! Yes! More! Im almost there!
Yessssssssss! Oh, baby! That was incredible!
Ummm, give me a second to catch my breath, ok? I never knew I could get off from
someone touching my feet. Boy, did I ever get off! That was intense! Im so glad I
called you to come over. Are you glad? Aw, I know youre frustrated and horny. But
thats the way I want you. Just imagine how mind-blowing its going to be when I let
you cum. Hehehe, I know its like torture…but its sexy torture isnt it? I want to feel
your cock with my toes. Hehe, its so warm and smooth! Does your cock like my toes?
Stop gasping, I cant understand you. Was that a yes? Yes? Hehehe. My feet are very
soft arent they. Its surprising, since Ive been going barefoot all my life, even outside
on the pavement. I dont have any calouses. My feet are as soft as a babys. And
smooth…just like your cock. You love me stroking it between my soles dont you! I bet
you could cum all over my feet right now, couldnt you. Hehe, my toes can feel your
balls all drawn-up tight. Oh, yeah, youre almost on the verge of cumming…but dont.
Dont let go. Remember, you want to have sex with me. You want me to scratch your
chest and arms all over with my sexy inch-long fingernails while I ride your cock. So its
really important you dont cum while Im stroking your cock between my feet, even
though you want to desperately…even though my warm, silky feet feel almost as good as
pussy…hehehe, and pussy doesnt have cute long toenails to scratch your balls with like
this….hahahaha. Aw, I know, I know, Im teasing you so much. Poor, sweet, wonderful
baby. Come here, lover. Kiss me. Here, feel my pussy swallowing your throbbing cock.
Ohhh, youre huge! Yes! Yes, Im digging my gorgeous long fingernails into your
shoulders…and raking them down your arms…and up your sides…grabbing my nails
into your chest muscles while I ride you up and down. Yesssssss! Oh, god! Oh, baby
that was amaaaayzing! Youre amazing! Get on top of me! Now! Fuck me hard! Fuck
me until you blow like a volcano inside me! Fuck me while I dig my nails into your back
and claw you like a tigress! With my nails! My gorgeous, long, sharp, sexy nailssssss!
Dont stop until you cum!
-
Along The Road
Along The Road (by R. Starkweather)
"Are you shitting me?!" Derek shouted. His sales manager at a large RV dealership was
on the phone on a Sunday. "Hey, dont blame me," the manager shouted back, "When
some rich dudes paying 1.5 million for an RV, he wants it delivered to his door." "His
fucking door is almost all the way cross-country!" Derek shouted, "Fuck! Itll take me
four days driving that fucking monster all by myself." The manager said, "Suck it up,
Derek. You leave in the morning. Oh, and it better arrive without a scratch, because any
damage comes out of your salary." .
Derek arrived at the dealership Monday morning with a small bag, and picked up the
corporate gas card and a one-way-return air ticket from the office. He climbed into the
enormous, opulent motorhome. It was hardly an RV, more like a yacht on wheels. Plush
carpeting, rich mahogany, and fine leather that filled the air with aroma. It had a large
shower/bathroom, and a master bedroom in the rear with a king-size bed and 50-inch
plasma TV with a satellite dish that rose from the roof electrically. It also had a full
kitchen and bar, and a killer sound system. True luxury at its finest. Derek buckled
himself into the large leather captains chair, adjusted the 12-way comfort controls, and
fired up the giant Cummins diesel, which became almost inaudible as soon as Derek hit
the button that closed the pneumatic door. It was deadly silent in fact. Derek connected
his iPOD to the sound system via Bluetooth. At least he would be surrounded by his
favorite music for the five days of piloting the behemoth RV cross-country. The bad part
was that his girlfriend couldnt take off work and come with him. He wouldve loved to
spend the nights screwing her in that king bed, the new owner being none the wiser.
Derek was sullen and dejected, but his girlfriend promised to get fake nails for the
weekend he got back. She knew Derek was crazy over long nails, but her job didnt
permit them, so once a month she would get fakes on Friday after work, and keep them
until Monday morning. Derek really loved her personality and the fact she wanted so
much to please him, so he figured fake nails were better than nothing, and trained himself
to pretend they were real, so they would turn him on. "Hey!" the manager pounded on
the door, "By the way, dont smoke in it!" Great, Derek thought, now hell have to find
a rest stop every time he craved a cigarette.
Derek discovered that he could get adult channels on the dish, so he watched some porno
at night. Stopping in truckstops he saw a couple of halfway-pretty waitresses with kind-
of-long nails, and he spent a few moments on the king bed thinking about them and
jacking off, before driving away. But otherwise, the trip was uneventful, at least for the
first two days and nights. It was on the third day, somewhere in Colorado, that Derek
was standing with his back against the motorhome with his eyes closed, enjoying a
smoke, when he heard a tiny voice say, "Excuse me."
Derek opened his eyes. A young woman was standing in front of him. She looked in her
late teens or early twenties, not more than around five-three and probably a hundred
pounds at most. She was wearing a Grateful Dead tank-top, shorts, and Birkenstock
sandals with thick socks. Her tangled tied-back mane of chestnut-brown hair was
naturally sun-streaked. Over her shoulder was a tattered army-surplus backpack. "Can I
bum a smoke?" she asked. "Uh, sure, I guess so," Derek answered, weary from the long
hours driving the huge RV. She smiled. She had big brown eyes. Sparkling, penetrating,
sexy eyes. He shook a cigarette up from his pack, and he watched her take it. Derek felt
a hot flash. The girl had long fingernails! Extraordinarily long, in fact. An inch, give or
take, Derek estimated. They were a little raggedy and dirty, but they were real. And she
was kind of cute. Dereks dick started to stir. He offered her a light, and she accepted.
There was a slight breeze, and she cupped her hands around his to keep the flame from
buffetting. It was a moment to savor. Derek felt her fingers on his hand. Soft and warm.
She didnt mean to touch him with her nails, but they were so long she couldnt help it. It
was only a whisper-light stroke, but it left faint white lines on his skin. "Sorry," she said
quickly, and she took a long, deep drag on the cigarette. Derek wasnt sorry.
"Looks like you really needed that smoke," Derek said. The girl smiled. "Here. Take
the rest of the pack. Ive got a whole carton," he said. "Wow! Thanks!" she said, taking
the pack from him. "Im Derek," he said, offering her his hand. "Hi Derek," she said,
accepting, "Im Summer." "Summer? Pretty name," he said. She smiled and took
another drag. "Thats an awesome motorhome," she said, "Are you a rock star or
something?" "More like a delivery boy. Bringing it to the new owner. Damn! I
shouldve pretended to be a rock star to impress you," Derek said, slapping his forehead.
Summer laughed. "I bet its awesome inside," she said. "Its incredible!" Derek
enthused, "Let me show you." Summer took a step backward and seemed uneasy. "Oh!
God! Im sorry! Didnt mean to scare you. Im just so accustomed to being an RV
salesman. Sure, I understand. Strange guy, middle of nowhere, invites pretty girl into his
motorhome. Reminds you of a horror movie, right?" Derek laughed. "Naw. You dont
look like a psycho. Actually Id majorly like to see the inside," Summer said. Derek
pushed the remote on the keychain and the door opened slowly with a whoosh.
"Awesome!" Summer said. Derek motioned her ahead of him, and she went up the steps.
"Holy fucking shit!" she proclaimed when she took in the luxurious, expansive interior
surroundings, "Now this is the way to travel!" "I suppose," Derek said, "Maybe for a
rock band. Or a family. Even a couple. It kinda sucks for one person. Really lonely."
"Ill trade you my company in return for a ride," Summer said with a shy smile. Derek
seemed hesitant. After all, she was a complete stranger, a woman, and he was driving
someone elses 1.5-million-dollar motorhome. Summer sensed his hesitation and she
said, "Its ok. Nevermind," touching his arm. Again, unavoidably, her long nails
scratched him lightly. "No. I mean, yes. OK. Sure, Ill give you a lift," Derek said, still
reeling from the brief sensation of her long fingernails. Summer smiled, "Are you sure?
Thanks." "How far are you going?" he asked. "As far as you want to take me," she
answered, setting her heavy old backpack on the plush carpeted floor, and she sat herself
down in the passengers chair.
"Fucking shit! This seat is so comfortable!" Summer said. "Those buttons on the right
are the controls. You can put it in almost any position. It even reclines. Go ahead,"
Derek said while he started the engine and put it in gear. Summer reclined the seat back
a little, and she put her feet up on the dash. "Uh, its ok if you put your feet up, but
please take your shoes off, ok?" Derek said. "Oh, sure. Sorry," Summer said, kicking off
her Birkenstocks. She put her feet with hiking socks back up. "Sorry if my feet smell,"
she said. Derek breathed in through his nose. The air was scented not only from her feet,
but her perspiration too. Derek hoped the RV would air out before he had to drop it off.
His thought of his girlfriend, who was obsessed with her personal hygiene. She was
always asking him if she smelled. And she never would have sex without first taking a
shower and spraying her private parts with deodorant. So he was intrigued that
Summers odors were getting him hard. Could also be that it had to do with knowing
how long her fingernails were.
Summer leaned back and crossed her arms behind her head. "The only problem with
these chairs is they can put you to sleep," Derek said. "I better stay awake and keep an
eye on you," she said. Derek laughed, and glanced quickly in her direction. With her
arms up, Derek noticed the tuft of dark hair in her armpits. Her legs also were a little
hairy. As with her smell, it surprised Derek that those things were making him horny.
Summer peeled off her hiking socks and propped her bare feet back up on the dash,
which caught Dereks attention out the corner of his eye. From several feet across the
wide motorhome, he could see the length of her toenails! A good quarter-inch Derek
figured. Hed seen long toenails on guys, and even once on an old woman, and itd
almost made him puke. But on Summers small, young feet, and even though there was
some dirt under her long toenails, they made Derek get hard. Summer stretched a leg
over toward Derek, but came about six inches short of being able to touch his leg with her
toes. "You say couples buy these motorhomes?" she asked. "Yeah. Retired couples,
mostly," Derek answered. "Ah. Ok," she said, "I mean, what young couple would want
to drive something where they couldnt touch each other?" Derek nodded and smiled in
agreement. What he wouldnt have given for her to rest her foot on his leg, and him to
rest his hand on her foot. To get up-close-and-personal with her long toenails.
Derek pulled into a shady rest stop and took some sandwich fixings out of the
refrigerator. Summer took a squashed candy bar and a small bag of potato chips from her
battered backpack. "Ive got plenty of good food," Derek said. "Oh, I couldnt,"
Summer said. Derek ignored her and handed her a sandwich. She said a quiet thank-you,
and she took it. Derek watched her fingernails press into the soft bread while Summer
ate ravenously. She obviously hadnt eaten much in a while. After she finished, Summer
put a cigarette between her lips. "Oh, hey, my boss warned me not to smoke inside,"
Derek said. He opened the door and they stepped outside, but suddenly it began to
downpour and they jumped back inside. "Shit," Derek said. Summer opened a window
and she climbed up and sat on the kitchen counter. She lit her cigarette and took a drag
and put her lips up to the screen and blew the smoke outside. "Cmere," she said, pulling
Derek by his arm. Again he felt her sharp nails and his dick responded. Summer put her
cigarette to Dereks lips and he took a drag, and he leaned forward and blew smoke
through the screen as she had done. Their faces were very close to each other. She
smiled. He smiled back. She rested her hand on his shoulder. Again he felt the press of
her nails. He felt her heat, so close to him, and inhaled the musty aroma of her sweat. He
was full-on erect by now. She put the cigarette out in the sink, and as she turned, her
mouth came very close to his. So close he could taste her smoky breath. When Derek
helped Summer off the counter, she held his arms. More pressing of nails, and they
trailed along his skin when she let go of him, slowly. Their eyes met. She had such sexy
brown eyes.
"So whats your story?" Derek asked Summer when they were back on the road. "Every
days a new story," she said. "So you just kind of backpack around the country?" Derek
asked. "Pretty much," she said. "Dont you ever miss home?" he asked. "I dunno. I
never really had one," she said. "Family?" he asked. "Not really," she said.
"Boyfriend?" he asked. "Not really," she said. "Dont you ever get lonely?" he asked.
She didnt respond. "Dont you want to know about me?" Derek asked. "Not really,"
Summer said. Derek was silent again. Summer idly scratched at the wood dash with her
long toenails, and it left little marks in the wax. Derek swallowed hard. Hed have to re-
polish it so the owner wouldnt see, but fuck it, the sight and sound of her nails scraping
the wood was one of the sexiest things hed ever experienced. Summer folded her legs
under her and leaned forward, and she unfastened her hair-tie and shook her hair loose.
She combed her fingers through the tangles. Derek caught a glance sideways. Her hair
practically covered her upper body, down to her waist. He was surprised, it hadnt
looked to be that long. It had been years since he last saw a young adult woman with hair
that long and wild. It too was very sexy. Even more with her long, natural fingernails
combing through it. Summer felt him looking at her. She fluffed her long, wild hair, and
spread her fingers and toes tipped with long, untended nails. Passing her long-nailed
fingers over the light growth of hair on her legs she declared, "Im into letting everything
go and grow as nature intended. Do I disgust you?" Derek reeled at the question. He
wanted to reassure her that he was anything but disgusted by her, but by the same token,
he didnt want to reveal his fetish to her. Selling RVs was childs play compared to
finessing this situation. He figured since she was direct and of few words, that was the
best way to respond. He said, "No you dont disgust me. Right now Im past intrigued
and on my way to fascinated." "Can you stop at the next turnout?" she asked. "Wait!
Im sorry! I know that sounded like I was hitting on you." Derek said quickly, mentally
kicking himself for overplaying his hand. "I just need to have a cigarette is all," she said.
Derek pulled the huge motorhome into the rest stop, and they both got out. Summer
walked to a large shade tree and Derek followed her. She sat down and leaned back
against the trunk and lit her cigarette. Derek sat down at an acceptable distance around
the tree, and lit up. "Were you?" she asked. "Was I what?" Derek asked. "Hitting on
me," she said. Dereks mind raced to find the right response. He should have said "How
would it make you feel if I was?" Instead he blurted out, "I have a girlfriend back home."
Summer leaned around the tree and grasped his arm gently. The slight pinch of her sharp
nails brought his eyes in direct contact with hers, so big and brown and sexy. "That
doesnt answer my question," she said. She wasnt going to accept anything less than
complete honesty. "I…Maybe…Im not sure," Derek said. It was lame, but honest.
Summer let go of his arm, letting her nails trail slowly against his skin. She took a long
drag off her cigarette and snuffed it out in the dirt. "Let me know when you figure it
out," she said as she got up. Derek watched her walk for a couple moments before he
followed her. She had a tight little ass. Narrow waist. Fine pair of legs, hair and all.
They didnt say much during the next couple of hours of driving. Not that theyd said all
that much before. Summer turned away from Derek, curled up in her seat, watching the
scenery. Theyd left the plains behind and were getting into rolling hills, heading toward
the Rockies. The soles of her small feet were filthy, but not calloused. She flexed her
toes every so often, and he could see her toenails poking out from her toes. Once, he
heard a clicking sound and glanced toward her, and she was cleaning under her toenails
with her fingernails. Then she cleaned under all her fingernails with other fingernails.
Derek stared ahead but his eyes darted quickly to Summer and back. He didnt want to
miss a moment of her. "Arent you getting hungry?" she asked without looking at him.
Had she known all along he was watching her? "This thing is a bitch to drive at night,"
Derek said, "If theres something stopped in the road, by the time its in the headlights
theres no way to stop in time not to hit it. So Im going to stop for the night at the next
RV park, which according to the GPS Navigation should be in about a half hour. If
youre really starving, just help yourself to something in the fridge." "I can wait if you
can," she said quietly.
Derek pulled the giant motorhome into a drive-through site, and he opened the door.
Summer slipped into her Birkenstocks and bounded outside, lit a cigarette while Derek
hooked the RV up to water and electric. He ushered her back inside and unfolded the
dinette. There was a bucket of KFC which Derek heated in the microwave, meanwhile
Summer poked through cupboards. "Paper plates and napkins are above you, on the
right," he said. She reached, and her tanktop rode up. She had a tiny waist and a flat
stomach. And a flowery tattoo in the small of her back. She was standing on tiptoes, her
dirty soles revealed to him, her calf muscles tightened, and Derek felt his dick come
alive. The microwave bell rang, and Derek turned to retrieve the KFC. "Whoa!
Awesome!" Summer said. He turned quickly. She was holding a bottle of champagne.
"Thats for the new owner!" he cried, just a millisecond too late. He watched her long
thumbnail slice the foil, and she peeled it off. "Oh. Im really sorry. I wasnt thinking,"
she apologized, "I hope I didnt just get you fired or something." "Nah. Ill just get
another bottle when I spot a liquor store," he said. "Cool," she said, untwisting the wire.
Summer put the bottle between her knees and worked the stopper off. It came off with a
loud pop and shot up to the ceiling, and champagne began spouting from the bottle. She
quickly put her mouth over the neck and upended the bottle, but there was already a small
wet spot on the plush carpeting. Derek looked with dismay. Summer took several big
swallows and handed the bottle to Derek while she wiped her mouth with her arm.
"You really were hungry!" Derek remarked. Summer looked up with just her eyes, but
they were smiling. She continued to tear the chicken from the bones with her teeth, and
devour it ravenously and noisily, smacking her lips and licking her fingers. Her hands
were shiny with grease, and there was sauce under her long nails. She took a swig of
champagne, swished it around like mouthwash and swallowed it, then she burped. Derek
didnt understand why on earth she turned him on so much…well, aside from her
nails…but she did. Summer got up rubbing her flat little belly. She walked toward the
back of the motorhome and pointed at a narrow door. "Is this the bathroom?" she asked
as she opened the door. Derek jumped to his feet and opened his mouth but before he
could speak she said, "I really gotta take a shit," and closed the door behind her. Hed
been using public restrooms, so he wouldnt have to flush out the holding tank. Oh well.
"Ill be outside," he called to her. "Ok," she answered.
It was pitch-black outside. Before her eyes adjusted to the dark, all Summer could see
was the glowing end of Dereks cigarette. She lit one and took a long drag. "Its cold up
here in the mountains at night," he said, seeing she was wearing only her tanktop and
shorts. "Ill be ok," she said. They went for a little walk. Summer leaned her head back
and spun around. "Look at all the stars," she said. Derek looked up. "Wow! You never
see that in the city," he said. Summer wrapped her arms around herself. "Here," Derek
said, removing his jacket. "You dont have to do that," she said, but she took his jacket
and put it around her. She walked close to him, occasionally her hand bumped his. He
thought about trying to hold her hand, maybe feel her nails touch him. Just as he made
up his mind to do it, she distanced herself, and it wouldve been awkward. Derek cursed
himself silently for missing the opportunity. They had one last cigarette and then
returned to the motorhome.
"This couch makes into a bed," Derek said, unfolding and latching the seats with the ease
of someone whod demonstrated it hundreds of times. He pulled a blanket from a storage
compartment beneath one seat and spread it over the bed. "Thanks," Summer said very
quietly. "Thanks again for everything," she said, kneeling on the bed. She touched his
arm, and Derek took one last look at her long fingernails before walking back to the
master bedroom. Derek closed the sliding bedroom doors and got undressed. He sat
back in the king bed against propped-up pillows and turned on the plasma TV. He heard
the soft whir of the satellite dish rising from the rooftop, and the pixellated picture
cleared. He channel-surfed a bit, but eventually went to the adult channel that was his
intention from the start. Somehow though, it wasnt exciting tonight. Not with Summer
and her nails a few feet away. Derek muted the TV and turned his thoughts to his
girlfriend. But as much as he willed against it, they kept returning to Summer.
There was a little tap and the door opened. "Youre not sleeping yet, are you?" Summer
said, entering. God! She was completely nude! Beautiful, full, firm tits, Derek noticed in
the second before he turned his head. "Dont be embarrassed by my nudity. Im not,"
Summer said. Derek hesitantly faced her. She cupped her tits with her hands. Two sexy
tits surrounded by ten sexy long, real fingernails, and all of it framed by locks of
chestnut-brown hair with sunstreaked highlights. Her huge brown eyes silently drew him
in, toward her pink lips that she slowly wet with the tip of her tongue. The flickering of
the muted TV caught her attention and she turned and looked. Summer smiled. "Can I
watch with you?" she asked. Without waiting for an answer she crawled onto the bed.
On her hands and knees she faced her tight, smooth little ass up to him for several
seconds, then she turned slowly and lay down on her back. Silently they watched the
porno for a few minutes. Summer turned on her side toward Derek. He felt her looking
at him. She slid one foot up along her opposite leg until her knee was bent. The pungent
smell of pussy filled the small room. Dereks erection tented the covers, and he thought
about how ridiculous it was that his girlfriend masked that alluring aroma with some
strawberry-scented spray. He turned on his side and brushed Summers long, tangled
hair back from her face. Her long fingernails poked him when she took his hand to her
mouth and sucked his thumb. Derek moved toward her, turning his head to kiss her.
Instead of kiss him, she took his lower lip between her teeth and tugged him along,
forcing him to quickly crawl out from under the covers while she rolled on her back and
bent her knees up, spreading them wide apart. "Im way past foreplay," she said.
Summer wrapped her arms around Derek and he felt her fingernails press into his back as
she pulled him to her. His dick was hard as a rock, so hard it hurt. His cock slipped
easily into her wet, glistening pussy. She let out a little scream and she dug her long
fingernails into his back and scratched him fast and hard. Derek grimaced and flinched
from the pain. Her pussy was burning hot, very tight yet very slippery. Derek began
gently moving in and out. Summer raised her hips and wrapped her legs around Derek,
clawed her long toenails into his asscheeks. "Harder!" she groaned urgently. Derek
fucked her with more force. Summer sighed. "Harder," she cried out loud. He
complied. She slipped her hands in-between them and raked his chest quickly with her
sharp nails. Having a long-nailed girl go wild and scratch him during sex had been
Dereks fantasy for as long as he could remember, but he never realized how painful it
would be in reality. Summer got a new grip on him with her legs, gouging her toenails
into his hips, and she grabbed handfuls of his asscheeks with her fingernails, thrusting
herself against him with all her might.
Summer was lost in taking her own pleasure, completely uninhibited, oblivious to his
pain and unconcerned for his enjoyment. She snarled and screamed and clawed and bit
and bucked like an animal. Derek had always believed the best sex must be with a
woman who did everything in her power to please her man, but Summers wild, selfish,
uncontrolled passion made him feel like more of a man and had him more turned on than
anyone hed ever been with before. "Faster!" she screamed, raking his back deep and
hard with her long, sharp fingernails, "Fuck me faster!" Derek pounded her as hard and
fast as he could, and Summer met his thrusts with her own pumping hips. Derek didnt
know how long he could last at that pace. But Summer didnt need or want slow
lovemaking. She wanted fast, furious, animalistic sex. It was over in a couple minutes.
They lay there bathed in sweat, heaving for breath, Derek still on top of Summer, his
cock still inside her. He couldnt move a muscle. Never had he been so exhausted, so
thoroughly spent. Or so completely satisfied. He smiled at her, and started to pull his
now-semi-limp cock out of her. Summer smiled and Derek felt her contract her pussy
around his dick. She caressed his sore back with her long fingernails, in slow, gentle
circles. She made long, slow, gentle strokes with her long toenails up and down the sides
of his legs. They both felt his dick begin to grow inside her. "You like my claws, dont
you," she said softly. His dick jumped, and her pussy responded with a strong
contraction. Summer took his face softly in her hands, pressing her nails lightly into him,
pulling him toward her waiting mouth. Her kiss started tenderly, then became more and
more aggressive. Derek was rock-hard again inside her. "Fuck me," she snarled. Her
tongue licked and lapped inside his mouth, and she sucked his tongue with all her might.
She sank her teeth into his shoulder, buried her toenails and fingernails deep into his flesh
and scratched him slow and hard. Derek screamed. It was a cry of pain, and ecstasy.
They came together, again. Derek rolled on his back, hardly able to breathe. Summer
impaled herself on his dick and slowly took the last moments of her pleasure from his
subsiding erection. She laid on top of him, his now-limp dick still inside her. Derek felt
rivers of her sweat trickling down his sides. Her breathing slowed and deepened, and he
realized she was asleep. He held her. She was so small and soft now, so sweet and calm.
Like a sleeping kitten. Only a moment ago shed been a wild, clawing, biting tigress.
Derek closed his eyes and fell asleep. Some time later he half opened his eyes. Summer
was sitting on him, riding his cock. Fucking him in his sleep! "Youre not mad at me for
waking you up?" she asked very facetiously. Derek groaned, "Youre incredible!"
Summer smiled for a second, then she closed her eyes and rolled her head around. She
dug her fingernails into his chest muscles with all her might. Derek inhaled loudly. A
deep, ragged, painful breath. And he came. With her. Summer fell against him,
sweating and panting. She smiled. She whispered, "Yeah, you really like my claws."
She laid her head against his shoulder, still keeping his cock inside her. "One time I read
somewhere that guys get erections about every forty minutes when theyre sleeping," she
said softly, giving his limp dick a little squeeze with her pussy. She looked at Dereks
gold Rolex watch, which said twenty after two. "Catch you at three," she whispered, and
closed her eyes. Then until dawn they slept and fucked, slept and fucked. In his life,
Dereks fantasies never came close to the reality of Summer. He hated to fall back asleep
after each time they fucked, fearing hed wake up and find shed been just a dream.
In the light of day, Derek awoke to the sound of water running. He sat up in bed. He
burned and throbbed all over, so he got up to check himself in the mirrored closet doors.
He could see himself front and back, covered with scratches. Shit! Derek turned back
toward the bed. Fuck! The expensive, custom-made silk sheets were stained with sweat,
his and her body fluids…and blood! He pulled up the sheets, and…fuck! fuck! fuck! The
mattress was bloodstained too! Summer had scratched him pretty bad but could he have
bled that much?! "Hey, Im sorry about that," Summer said, appearing in the doorway,
naked and dripping wet, "I think I started my period last night while we were screwing."
Before Derek could pick his jaw up off the ground she changed the subject. "Hey, that
little tub is cool. I havent had a bath in so long. It felt really great," she said. Derek
went into the bathroom to pee, there was water everywhere, and the formerly pristine
white tub was ringed and splattered with the filth that Summer had washed off herself.
Evidently shed also washed her clothes in the sink, and they were hanging above the
shower, dripping onto the floor. Derek sat down at the dinette with his head in his hands.
Summer, still nude, put her knee on his lap and ran her fingers through his hair. "Whats
wrong?" she asked. Derek looked down at the stain on the carpet, from the champagne
she spilled the night before, the champagne that was supposed to be for the new owner.
He thought about the ruined sheets and mattress, and the filthy, trashed bathroom. He felt
her fingernails on his scalp, he looked down at her long toenails, then up into her sexy
brown eyes. "Nothing. Nothings wrong," he said. They got dressed, ate a little
breakfast. Derek washed up the bathroom the best he could. He made the bed and said a
silent prayer that the new owner wouldnt turn back the bedspread until Derek was safely
out of sight. He knew his boss would fire him and dock his final commission for the
damages. He knew there was no way he could go back to his girlfriend. Nevermind that
there was no way he could either hide or explain the scratches on his body . Fact was, the
sex with Summer had been a thousand times better than with his girlfriend. Or that with
anybody hed ever been with. Or was likely to ever be with. It seemed hopeless. It
seemed clear to Derek that Summer was a free spirit, a woman of the road, that it must be
her own choice to remain unattached.
It was only a two-hour drive west to their final destination. Summer said he could drop
her off outside the city, where the highway they were on intersected with another that ran
north and south. "Where are you heading to?" Derek asked. Summer pondered a
moment. "I think maybe Grand Canyon," she said. "Ive never been there," Derek said.
"You should," she said, "Its unbelievable." Derek watched Summers small feet
disappear into her hiking socks. It would likely be the last time hed ever see long, sexy
toenails on a woman. "Take whatever food you want, I have to get rid of it anyway,"
Derek said. He also handed her a couple packs of cigarettes. "Thanks," she said,
reaching out to take them. Her long fingernails touched his hand. He felt his dick stir.
Summer tied her long, wild hair back. Out the corner of his eye he watched her long
fingernails work the elastic hair-tie. Such sexy nails. So long and sharp. So perfect.
With her arms up he could see her dark tufts of armpit hair. It turned him on. The
natural musk of her sweat turned him on. Everything about her turned him on.
The highway intersection loomed ahead. Two corners were open, rocky fields, there was
an abandoned gas station on another corner which was barricaded, and the third corner
was a little used-car lot that afforded Derek the only place to park the huge motorhome.
Summer got up and slung her old army-surplus backpack over her shoulders and started
down the steps. Derek hit the button to open the door. He got up from his seat and
followed Summer outside. He put his hand on her shoulder and turned her to him, leaned
in to kiss her. She put her fingers against his lips. "Thats probably a bad idea," she said.
Derek nodded. Her long nails scraped against his chin as she took her hand away. "See
you," he said. "I doubt it," she said. "Take care," he said. "You too," she said. Summer
started walking off. She turned around, walking backward. It would be the last time hed
see her face. She waved. The last time hed see her long, sexy fingernails. "I do," she
called out. Derek looked puzzled. Summer shouted, "Yesterday while we were driving,
you asked me if I ever get lonely. Well, I do." Then she turned and walked away, faster
and faster, until she was running.
There were almost no cars on the road, and the few that were, were locals only going to
the next turnoff. Summer sat on the roadside and munched on a piece of cold KFC. She
saw a truck coming in the distance, and she tossed the chicken bone over her shoulder
and stood up. A well-worn pickup with a camper top approached, trailing a cloud of dust
behind it. Summer stuck out her thumb and the driver pulled off ahead of her. Shielding
her eyes from the dust, she asked the driver where he was headed. "Grand Canyon," he
said. Summer threw her backpack into the truck and jumped in. "I dont understand?!"
she cried, seeing Derek behind the wheel. "The used-car guy traded me this for my
Rolex, and a promise to deliver the motorhome for me," he said. "That watch had to be
worth twice as much as this old piece of shit," Summer said, "You must be the worst RV
salesman on the planet!" "Maybe thats why I could only afford a fake Rolex," Derek
smiled, "And a junky old camper." Summer laughed. She pulled her hiking socks off
and leaned her back against the door and put her feet in Dereks lap. "I can touch you
while were driving!" she said, "This ones better for a young couple." He caressed her
toes, and she flicked her long toenails against his hand. "Are we a couple?" Derek asked,
"Youre not mad I followed you?" She rubbed her heel against the hardening bulge in his
pants. "Whats it seem like to you?" she asked. Derek leaned over to kiss her, but
Summer grabbed him by his shirt and backed into the camper, pulling him inside and
down on top of her onto the tattered old mattress. "Im way past foreplay," she said,
reaching up under his shirt, scratching his back hard and quick with her long, sharp
fingernails.
-
Amazing Matinee
The service manager at the dealership gave Gary the bad news. It would be 4 or 5 hours before his car was ready. He decided to kill the time at the mall instead of hanging around the dealership. It was close by and the day was pleasant, so Gary didn't mind the walk. He could think of a better way to spend a rare Monday away from the office, but it was still better than being cooped up in the little cube at work, that seemed to get smaller and smaller as the week went on.
He walked into the coolness of the mall and was greeted by the fragrance from the coffee shop that was not far from the door.
"Sounds good," he thought to himself and walked up to the coffee shop counter. He waited for the girl that couldn't be more than a year out of high school to make her way over to him and take his order. He might have been annoyed at her lack of enthusiasm at any other time, but figured he was killing time anyway so he didn't give it more than a momentary thought.
Armed with his Styrofoam cup filled with Hazelnut coffee, he turned to walk out into the mall and almost ran into the woman that was just entering the coffee shop. Startled, and trying to keep from spilling his coffee with the abrupt stop, he managed an "excuse me," but his eyes were still on the coffee, splashing close to the rim of the cup. Her perfume was the first thing he noticed about her. He caught the alluring scent and it made him focus on the woman. She was a somewhat larger woman, rubinesque, was the politically correct term, he thought to himself. Whatever the term, it was the type of woman that he preferred. He just didn't find skinny women nearly as appealing as full figured women. There wasn't anything particular he could put his finger on, it was just a preference. A preference that caused him to be the butt of a few friendly jokes from his buddies, but he didn't care, he knew that certain things made him take a second look at a woman, and being full figured was one of them.
He apologized once again to the woman, this time making eye contact. She peered over the top of her sunglasses at him, her eyes were a wonderful shade of brown, with just the right amount of eye makeup. It gave her eyes just the right amount of sultriness without looking overdone.
"Oh, pardon me," she said as they gave each other enough room to pass, the woman stepping up to the counter and Gary taking a few steps out into the mall before turning and glancing at the woman again, her unique perfume still fresh in his mind. Now that there was a little distance between them, he could get a better look at the woman. Her hair was a dark, reddish brown, full, and just resting on the shoulders of her navy blue blazer. Her skirt, also navy, hung to just below the knee. Her shoes were black patent pumps, with a three-inch heel, he estimated.
This caused him to raise one eyebrow, and whisper "hmmmmm" to himself. It wasn't often that he saw a full figured woman in heels and it was nice to see. As much as he could understand the "comfort first" policy that most full figured women adhere to, it was a pleasure to see a woman that broke the rules a little bit. A matching black patent purse hung from one shoulder, and a bag from one of the stores was held in her opposite hand.
Gary was impressed with the woman, the air of confidence about her, the way she dressed, kept her hair, the eyes. He admired a woman that didn't cave in to the pressures of being larger than average in size.
This woman felt good about herself and he thought "good for you, knock 'em dead and take no prisoners." He watched as the teen queen gave the woman her coffee and the girl said something to the woman and smiled. Whatever it was, it caused the woman to turn slightly and glance over her shoulder at Gary, catching him off guard.
He was in the middle of taking a sip of his coffee and pretended to be looking at the store next to the coffee shop and thought "I'd better start strolling," feeling like he had been caught admiring the woman.
He turned, pretending to be involved with enjoying his coffee and slowly strolled towards the center of the mall, checking out the stores as he passed. The coffee was very good, fresh and hot, but there was something else that Gary was savoring as he walked slowly. The lingering scent of the woman's perfume was stuck in his mind. It was a very subtle, yet intoxicating seed that the woman's perfume had planted in his mind, not overpowering but lingering behind the surface, tapping him on the shoulder every so often. Gary didn't mind at all.
Gary wandered in and out of the stores, not shopping, just browsing. Spending some time in the Border's bookstore, checking out the books, magazines, music and software. Gary loved looking at all the books and admired the people who wrote them. He thought that being a writer must be the most perfect occupation. Getting paid to express your thoughts. He wished he had the skills to be a writer. He walked out of the bookstore and across the mall, sitting at one of the benches near the fountain and watching the people. Being late morning, it was mostly mothers, trying to keep one eye on the stores and the other on the pre schoolers that were always finding the most direct route to mischief, retirees, doing the "mall walk", swinging their arms as they got their daily dose of exercise, some high schoolers, who if Gary could bet on it, were probably skipping school, and the people Gary called professional shoppers, or power shoppers, the women who could rationalize any purchase by telling themselves "it was 30 percent off" whether they needed the item or not.
Gary actually liked the mall at this time of the day. It was interesting to watch the people and he liked the relaxed atmosphere in the mall at the moment versus the evening or weekend madhouse that was usually present when he was there. Something kept telling him that he was not the only one in the observing mode, just one of those weird feelings where you feel like there are eyes on you. He looked around casually, but saw no one watching him, then he got that mental, tap on the shoulder from the woman's perfume and he smiled to himself. That must have been the feeling he had, he thought, and he took a deep breath, half wishing he could catch another taste of the alluring scent, but all he got was a healthy dose of air conditioned, purified, climate controlled mall air.
He sighed softly and thought, "oh well, it was worth a try." He was jolted out of his day dream by the sound of a security gate being slammed into it's hiding spot as the mall theatre was opening for business.
He looked at his watch and saw that he still had almost 3 hours to go before his car was done, and thought "why not?" It had been a while since he had gone to the movies. He checked the times on the theatre entrance and saw that he had about a half hour before the movies started, so he decided to grab a quick lunch first so he wouldn't get hungry half way through the movie. He walked over to the food court and decided that a ham and cheese on a deli roll was just what he needed. He sat at one of the cafe style tables in the food court with his sandwich and iced tea and enjoyed lunch.
When he finished his lunch, Gary got up and walked towards the theatre, glancing at his watch, fifteen minutes before the movie started, perfect, he thought. When he got to the theatre, he was surprised at the two lines of people that were lined up to buy tickets. He got into one of the lines and waited. Suddenly, he felt that strange feeling again, that someone was watching him. He looked around, glancing left and right, but everyone seemed to be in their own little world, yet he couldn't shake the feeling, which had crept inside him.
The line moved slowly, everyone shuffling a few steps at a time towards the ticket window. There were five people between him and the ticket window, when he heard a sound.
"Tap tap tap tap"..............."tap tap tap tap"..........."tap tap tap tap," it was a vaguely familiar rhythm, like the impatient drumming of fingers but with a sharper tapping sound. He turned to his left and saw the source of the sound, and couldn't believe his eyes, four of the longest, gleaming, red nails tapping impatiently on a black patent leather purse. His mouth fell open slightly as he stared at the incredibly long nails, the rhythmic drumming seeming to touch his every nerve. Never had he seen such nails, they had to be well over an inch long, gently curved, a flawlessly finished, gleaming, deep dark red. It was as if each tap of the nails touched him so deeply inside, that he felt under some wicked, intoxicating spell.
He suddenly was aware of himself, staring, and thought "the black patent purse..." He raised his eyes and almost died on the spot. It was the woman from the coffee shop, the full figured woman he had been admiring. As his eyes got higher he saw them, her eyes, peeking out over the top of her sunglasses, right at him. Burning right into his eyes. He felt the rush of blood into his cheeks and ears, he was blushing and he knew it, and could do nothing to prevent it. Her eyes never wavered, locked on his, burning right into his soul. As if she were reading every deep dark secret he ever had, and he was helpless to stop her. Deep inside, he wasn't sure he wanted to stop her. He felt possessed by her eyes, her unbelievably long nails, and the scent of her perfume which was now snapped quickly back to the front of his mind as if it were the first moment it had filled his nostrils at the coffee shop, even though he was not close enough to her at the moment to smell it.
He was jerked from the intoxicating spell of the woman by the voice behind him, "excuse me, you're next." He looked quickly ahead to see ten feet of empty space between himself and the ticket window. Embarrassed, he hurried to the window, fumbling with his wallet and money, and paid for his ticket. He turned to his left and slowly walked between the lines of people still waiting for tickets on his way to the lobby. He felt so embarrassed at being caught staring at the woman's nails, he didn't even want to raise his eyes as he walked past her. At the last moment he looked up as he neared her, unable to resist. Her sunglasses off now, her sultry eyes immediately locked on his. It was as if their minds were connected, she felt his helplessness. She did more than sense it. She fed off of it. She controlled it and she knew it, and so did Gary. As he passed her he saw the corners of her mouth curl into a wicked little grin and heard her whisper.
He thought it was a whisper, perhaps he sensed it as much as heard it, no matter, it froze him for a split second when he heard it.
"You're mine."
He stopped momentarily, but didn't turn, then kept walking slowly, around the end of the line and towards the lobby. His insides were a strange exotic mix, emotions and feelings running amok, desires, secrets, fears, cravings, all in an unbelievable, erotic, crazy blend, making his insides feel like they wanted to leap right out of him. He tried to compose himself, his mouth now dry and parched from the last few minutes. He stopped at the concession counter and got a Coke, his every thought still on the woman across the lobby.
He had never felt so vulnerable before, he wanted so badly, to turn and look at the woman again, his heart pounding, but he fought the urge. He paid for his Coke and took a sip as he turned and walked slowly towards the entrance of the movie. He couldn't fight it any longer, just before he reached the entrance, he turned slowly, scanning the lobby. He didn't see her, his slow scan turned into a desperate search, his eyes darting back and forth. A small group of people at the concession stand moved away and his heart leapt into his throat as he saw her standing there. She turned and her eyes locked on his again, from all the way across the lobby, he could feel them, undressing his soul, reading his every thought. Then she looked away, and walked towards the entrance of one of the other theatres. Her hair bouncing against the tops of her shoulders with each sure, confident step of her three inch heels.
Just before she entered the theatre, she shot a look at Gary, that same "you're mine" look she had given him as he walked past her in line. Then she disappeared into the theatre, and Gary turned and walked slowly into his own movie, his thoughts on the woman that had disappeared suddenly a few seconds ago.
Gary walked down the second to last row of seats at the back of the theatre, there always seemed to be plenty of room in the last few rows and he liked room to relax while watching the movie. He settled into the middle of the row and leaned back. If there was one single improvement in the modern theatre, it was the seat. You could actually recline the seat a little by leaning back. He relaxed and sipped his Coke and thought about the woman that had so completely possessed him. He closed his eyes and leaned back, the image in his mind was so intoxicating.
The whisper that played over and over in his mind, "you're mine". He could still hear the incredibly long nails, tapping on the purse.
He was awakened from his erotic daydream by the music that started as the lights went down low, and the previews started. After about ten minutes or so, the movie started and Gary settled back in the seat and the daydreams faded slowly in his mind as the movie ran. It was about fifteen minutes into the movie when he felt the air move behind him, he felt it gently tease the back of his neck, and he heard the seat behind him squeak as someone settled into it.
He didn't think much about it for a moment until the scent hit him. It grabbed his soul and stole every ounce of attention that had been focused on the movie. It was the perfume, there was no mistaking it. It made his blood pump, his every nerve and sense exploded to life and his insides felt like they wanted to leap from his body again at the thought that the woman might actually be sitting right behind him. He felt paralyzed, he wanted to know so badly, yet he was afraid to turn and look.
The woman watched Gary intently, watched his every movement, and watched as his shoulders moved up and down slightly faster as his breathing became deeper since she had taken the seat behind him.
She plucked a few pieces of popcorn out of the tall popcorn cup with the tips of her long, red nails and slowly leaned over and whispered...."popcorn?" as she held the pieces in her nails to Gary's lips.
He could hardly speak, his voice a quivering whisper, as he said, "thank you" and slowly opened his mouth as she gently eased the popcorn into his mouth, waiting a moment to feel his lips close around her nails before she slowly slid them out from between his lips, dragging them over his lips gently.
He couldn't help the soft moan that escaped him, he had never felt anything so incredible and consuming, in his life. She heard it too, she knew she would, she sensed it the moment she saw his eyes staring at her nails in the line. She knew she would see that look in a man's eyes some day, she knew he was out there, it was just a matter of patience and she sensed that her patience was finally about to reap benefits. This man was different.
She sensed his willingness to let a woman be a woman. He wasn't afraid of the power of a woman like so many men are, unable to give up their childish, playground attitudes about being king of the hill, of letting a woman show them the serenity of giving up their macho man attitudes and stereotypes. This man was passing every test so far, and if he is lucky, and passes the rest, you will allow him the ecstasy of surrender.
She thought, "oh yes my friend, make no mistake about it, it will be surrender and you will be addicted to it by the time I am finished making you mine." She picked a few more pieces of popcorn from the cup and held them to his lips and waited, and just as she expected, he leaned towards them as his mouth slowly opened and she placed the popcorn on his tongue and felt him softly close his lips around her nails. She paused for a moment and felt his tongue lightly touch the underside of the nail of her index finger near the fingertip, and felt him draw it slowly back to the tip of the nail as she gently pulled it from between his lips, this time slowly drawing her nail over his lips and gently back across his cheek.
Once again the moan was unmistakable, soft but from so deep inside him. Instead of plucking a few more pieces of popcorn from the cup this time, she just placed her nails to his lips and he responded perfectly, slowly parting his lips as he leaned towards the nails, taking them in his mouth and closing his lips softly around them. This time she felt his ever so gentle sucking as he slowly swirled his tongue over and around her nails. She felt his lips relax and she slipped her two fingers a little further inside his mouth. She felt the gentle warmth of his tongue caress her fingertips, sucking them so softly, the gentle, worshipping tongue, dancing over her fingers and nails.
She leaned close to him, whispering softly..."yes ....yessss...that's it, ohh yess you are mine, aren't you?" Before he could even moan his answer, her other hand reached around the other side of his face and she gently began stroking his cheek with the nails of her other hand. His breathing was becoming deeper and sharper with each slow stroke of her nails. His responses were better than her wildest dreams, his soft gentle sucking of her fingers, the way he leaned back further in his seat, tilting his head back, offering himself to her hypnotic nails.
She began gently exploring his face with her free hand, stroking, caressing every part of his face. His moans were constant now, soft and never ending, as he leaned back further. She looked over his shoulder and could see the outline of the bulging hardness in his pants against the light background of the movie screen and smiled wickedly and thought to herself, "yes yess...my hard, throbbing friend, you will get a taste of the nails too, oh yessss you surely will."
The thought made her hips shiver slightly as the gentle tingle shot through them and she felt the wetness seeping from her.
It was time to go before she had an accident right there in the theatre, and from the look of the bulge in his pants and his breathing becoming a rhythmic pant, she knew he was not far behind her. She slipped her fingers from his warm mouth, and gave Gary one last stroke of her nails across his cheek, this time just a bit harder and faster, her nails making a soft hissssssss over his cheek.
She reached into her purse and took out a card and dropped it in Gary's lap as she stood, whispering.
"Show me you're mine" and walked quickly from the seat to the exit.
Gary wasn't sure what had happened to her, she was gone so quickly. He held the card up and read it from the light coming from the projector behind him. It had a single name on it, Marlene, and a phone number. Gary knew his love life was about to take a turn, he wasn't sure where that turn would take him, but he knew, without a doubt, he wanted to find out. He never wanted anything so badly in his life.
Marlene had hurried from the Theatre and the mall. She was sitting in her car now, in the process of trying to compose herself. She could feel the warmth in her cheeks and ears, knowing that they were red with a combination of blushing and excitement. Her full breasts were still heaving up and down, rhythmically, as her breathing was still keeping up with all the incredible feelings, which had consumed her. She couldn't count the number of times she had played similar meetings over and over in her head, closing her eyes, savoring the moment the pursuit started, watching the man in her dreams from a distance, planning the moment that she would lock her eyes on his, reading his very soul. Feeling the split second, that one moment, she knew he belonged to her. That moment of transition, where the pursuit had turned to capture. That moment she had visualized and felt in her dreams, over and over, but had eluded her so far in real life, until today.There had been times when she had gotten close, moments where she saw a brief glimpse of potential in a man, but they were always quick to scurry behind their paper thin shield that they called manhood. That stereotypical belief, which had been programmed into them since childhood. Be a man. Rule the roost, or any of the other silly names and descriptions, that one could use while describing their fragile egos.
When it came right down to it, they were afraid, like little boys, when a woman showed them she was ready, and more than capable of taking the lead. Of leading them to a place that they were afraid to admit existed.........surrender. She felt that a man being able to surrender, when a woman wanted him to, was a sign of the man's strength, not a weakness or a flaw. How long she had waited for that moment when she met a man that was able to embrace the intoxication of surrender. She felt it today, and it was even sweeter than she had imagined. This man was different. If it had been somewhere other than a public place, some place private, and she found herself slowly tapping her nails on her purse again as it laid in her lap, imagining the sweet moans of surrender she would have heard from him.
The sound of a car door slamming next to her snapped her out of her sweet, erotic daydream. She took a deep breath, looked at herself in her mirror, primping at her hair a little, checking her face. That's when she smelled something. She brought her left hand closer to her face and smelled a trace of the man's cologne on her fingers and nails. She held them there for a moment, savoring the reminder. As she slowly worked her way through the parking lot, to the street and all the way home, she would raise her fingers to her face now and then, taking in the scent, and smile. It was a knowing, somewhat wicked smile and she whispered to no one but herself, "oh yes...you're mine".
Gary sat on the bench in the mall, looking at the card that had been dropped in his lap. He fingered it, flipping it over and over, mindlessly, as he stared right through it, lost in thought. He was in awe, plain and simple. He'd had entire relationships that didn't have the impact that this one brief encounter had left on him. He could still feel the tingle on his face, lips and neck, where the woman had touched him. He wanted to touch the same spots himself, right now, but was afraid it would erase, or cover up the lingering reminder that he felt. He could still feel her incredible nails, slipping past his lips, their smoothness and wicked elegance seeming to slide right down his throat and curl themselves around his soul.
He had been around the block a few times, and had his share of women and relationships since his divorce ten years ago, but he had never felt anything so intensely erotic, so consuming, in his life. He felt possessed, as if he had been under some incredible, intoxicating spell. The confidence, the power of this woman had laid him open like a book, exposing things in him that he thought he would never be able to reveal to a woman. He didn't even have to reveal them, she knew exactly where they were hidden, and she plucked them from his soul as easily as picking an apple from a tree.
That's what ate at him, how easily he was exposed by the woman's touch. It almost scared him a little, but the fear was laced with such erotic sweetness and awe, that it bordered on serenity, he was so totally exposed, yet felt so safe. That woman could have done anything she desired with him and he would have been helpless to stop her, he wouldn't have even thought of stopping her.
Gary realized that those thoughts were causing a reaction in him, and he closed his legs and laid his jacket across his lap to hide the bulge that was reappearing in his pants. He took a deep breath, staring at Marlene's name on the card and the phone number. He slipped the card into his shirt pocket, and thought of the walk to the dealership to pick up his car. Maybe the fresh air would clear his head a little. He stood, and discretely smoothed the softening bulge in his pants and threw his jacket over his shoulder as he walked slowly towards the mall exit.
As he walked, there was something missing that had been there earlier, he tried to figure out what it was. Then he smiled as he realized what was missing. There was no feeling of being watched. Now that he knew who was watching him earlier, he missed it, and felt somewhat empty without it keeping him company.
Gary picked up his car that afternoon, but his thoughts were elsewhere. As he pulled his car into the garage, he could hardly remember his walk from the mall to the dealership and his ride home. He felt like he had been in some wonderful, yet strange, sweet dream. It had started while standing in line to buy his ticket to the matinee at the mall theatre. He remembers that like it was only a minute ago.
The nails tapping, that moment, when he looked up and saw the woman's eyes riveted on his. It's almost as if the woman had entered him with her eyes. Entered him and had searched through every erotic secret that Gary had filed in the deepest parts of his very soul. He remembered that feeling, that helpless, vulnerable feeling, as her eyes searched his. She knew, as certain as the sun coming up, she knew, he felt that.
But how had she known? Had his face, his look of awe, actually been that revealing? He'd heard of woman's intuition, but never had he felt so totally exposed. He was so good at keeping his taste in women hidden, a secret from everyone. Not just women, very unique women, women that most men were intimidated by. Women like Marlene.
He read the name on the card as he slowly kept turning it over and over in his hand. Could it be possible? Could it have finally happened? After all this time, one brief, four year marriage, the endless stream of dates, meetings, failed fix ups and blind dates, could it have finally happened in such a chance occurrence? Did she sense his submissiveness? He knew one thing. She sensed something, read something in him. Whatever she sensed, she wanted it. She had followed him, it was her eyes that he had felt on him in the mall, he was sure of that. She had followed him into his movie. He raised his eyes from the card, which she had dropped in his lap, and put it into his shirt pocket. He turned off his car and reached into the console and found the remote for the garage door. Pushing the button, he closed the garage door behind him and climbed out of his car. He went through the side access door of the garage and slowly made his way to the house.
In another dining room, on the other side of town, Marlene sat at the dining room table. In front of her was an almost full plate of food. She was aimlessly pushing food around on her plate with her fork. She was an excellent cook, and the chicken casserole she had made was one of her favorites, but the appetite just wasn't there. Her mind was elsewhere as well. Her thoughts were also on the mall. On that feeling of her nails sliding slowly into the man's mouth. It was even more intense than she had dreamed it could be.
This man was different, oh so different than all the others. She had dated men that had allowed her to use her nails during intimacy and sex, but they always seemed to tolerate it, rather than ache for it. This man ached for it like no man she had ever dreamt of, let alone met.
She had intentionally held her long, red, gleaming nails just in front of the man's mouth to confirm what she had felt in the ticket line. She wanted to see him part his lips and reach for them. She had to see the craving to worship them from the man and oh, how she felt his craving. It had radiated from this man so clearly that it took her breath away. It made her tremble inside. She had to resist the urge to grab the man's hair from behind and jerk his head back so she could WATCH his worship. So she could slowly feed him each of her nails and watch him make love to each of her incredible nails, one at a time. He would have done it, she felt that, she knew he would, she was never so sure of anything in her life.
Marlene pushed the plate away to the middle of the table. It was unlike her to not wash the dish and put it away, but she would take care of it later. She needed something else right now.
She pushed her chair back and stood, and walked across the dining room and down the hall. She came to her bedroom and went inside, turning on the light via the wall switch. She moved to the big, walk in closet and slowly opened the folding, double doors. She turned on the light and walked in.
The closet was arranged neatly in two halves, but what different worlds each side revealed. Along the right side were her business suits, slacks, and tops, all hung neatly like any woman's closet. Her every day shoes were in a neat row on the floor, beneath the hanging clothes. She slid off her shoes and pushed them into their vacant space.
She took off her blazer and hung it on its hanger and hung it on the rod. She unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor, bending to pick it up and drop it into the clothes hamper. She slid her thumbnails into the elastic waistband of her panty hose, then her thumbs, and slid her panty hose off and dropped them into the hamper. She unbuttoned her white blouse, her nails softly clicking on the plastic buttons. She had learned long ago, how to manage the small tasks such as buttons, with her long nails.
The white blouse opened and slid down off her arms, revealing the black bra that held her full breasts. The blouse was put into the hamper with the rest of the day's clothes and she turned towards the other wall of the big, walk in closet.
She slowly moved her gaze along the other wall of her closet, Marlene's other, secret, world. On this wall were hung bustiers, corsets, erotic outfits, and Marlene's favorites, shelves of tall, gleaming stiletto heels. Black, red, white, regular leather and patent leather arranged on four shelves. There were six pairs on each shelf.
Next to the shelves of heels was another shelf that held her boots. Four pairs of spike heeled ankle boots, and two pairs of spike heeled knee high boots. Marlene's eyes moved slowly over the shelves of shoes as she stood there. Her eyes stopped on a pair of black, patent leather stilettos. She slowly ran a single, long nail down the length of the tall, thin heel. She took the shoes and slowly walked out of the closet.
On her way to the bed, she stopped at the dresser and opened the top drawer. She picked out a pair of sheer, black, thigh high stockings and continued to the bed.
Marlene sat on the edge of the bed, her black stiletto heels at her side. She took one of the stockings and slowly rolled and gathered it up in her hands. Bending as she brought her knee up, she pointed her toe and stretched the toe of the stocking over it. Slowly extending her leg, she stretched and smoothed the stocking as she pulled it up. She did the same with her other stocking and reached for one of the black stilettos. She slid her toes into the narrow, pointed toe of the shoe and heard the soft puff of air as she slid her heel down snugly into the heel of the shoe.
She loved the way the snugness of the shoe held her foot. It was as if it became part of her, she could feel it's elegance, it's power radiate up through her calf and thigh. She extended her leg and admired the flawless, black finish of the shoe as she slowly rotated her ankle back and forth, the light reflecting off of the gleaming, pointed toe.
Marlene whispered to no one but herself, "one woman's agony is another woman's ecstasy" and smiled softly. She put on the other shoe and stood up from the edge of the bed.
Even though the heel was five inches tall, it felt like a mile. It was as if the tall heels had lifted her into another world, another level. She walked towards the door, so smoothly, with such confidence and elegance, and flicked off the light as she walked through the bedroom door and into the hall.
Some people had a drink to unwind, some got lost in the mindless stream of babble from the television. Marlene was unwinding now, just as she did every day for so long. This is how she took her little mental vacation from her every day world.
She strolled into the dining room, her stiletto heels echoing on the hardwood floor as she left the carpet of the hallway. She picked up her almost full plate on the way by and moved to the kitchen, where her favorite sound started, the click...click...click of her heels on the ceramic tile floor of the kitchen. Reaching the counter, she scraped the food into the trash container and placed the plate in the sink.
She continued her stroll along the kitchen counter, the sound of her heels filling the room. She slowly tapped her nails on the counter as she walked along it, then gently dragged her long red nails along the smooth, hard surface of the countertop, the soft hisssssssssssssss of her nails making her smile.
Marlene felt reborn at these times, she felt like such a sexy, seductive, powerful woman. Like a queen, ready to be admired, pampered, worshipped and obeyed. She was becoming lost in her mental vacation, letting the feelings just flow over her like a welcome, gentle breeze on a hot, sultry day. Then the phone rang.
Marlene took a few graceful steps to the phone on the kitchen counter. She stood there for a moment, counting the rings. The answering machine was set to pick up the call after the fifth ring. Marlene looked at the caller ID display on the answering machine and didn't recognize the number. She stood there, waiting. A single, long, glistening, red, nail slowly tapped on the counter as she waited for the machine to answer the call.
The machine finally awakened and picked up the call as Marlene listened. "Hello, I'm unable to take your call......" and she waited for the generic greeting to end and listened intently.
The voice on the other end responded, "Hello Marlene...this is Gary, we met this morning at the theatre, and I thought I'd give you a call. Please feel free to call me when your schedule permits. I'd love to get together again sometime soon and hopefully get to know each other a bit better. I hope you feel the same way. You can reach me most evenings …"Marlene picked up the phone and switched the answering machine off.
She calmly said, "Hello Gary, I'm so glad you called." Gary was caught off guard momentarily, but recovered quickly. They exchanged the normal small talk and pleasantries as Marlene continued her leisurely, elegant stroll around the kitchen. Just talking with Gary made her hold a hand at arm's length and spread her fingers wide as she admired her long, flawlessly polished, nails.
She could still feel his soft, warm lips and mouth, worshipping her nails with a devotion that she had only fantasized about in her most erotic dreams. Marlene strolled towards the living room, the sound of her heels changing from the tile floor of the kitchen, to the hardwood floor of the dining room, to the whisper of her tall stilettos on the carpet of the living room.
She settled into a large, overstuffed chair and gracefully crossed her legs. The small talk continued for a few more minutes as Marlene's eyes followed her gleaming, black stiletto. She was swinging her leg slowly, that rhythmic, bouncing, swing that women have perfected over the years, when they cross their legs.
On the other end, Gary could almost sense Marlene's attention has shifted, been diverted by something else. He was beginning to think the worst, that perhaps Marlene found him boring, or uninteresting. That perhaps this morning had been only a fluke and something he would never experience again. This thought left an empty pit in Gary's stomach. He did not want this to end. Just when he had almost convinced himself that something had happened to jeopardize this perfect day, Marlene spoke.
"Gary... I think we both know that we are people with unique 'needs' ...am I correct? Her eyes were still locked on the rhythmic swing of her stiletto. Gary paused for a moment, unsure of what to say.
Before he could speak, Marlene continued. "I think I know your needs, Gary. I can fill them. You know I can. I saw them in your eyes today, Gary."
There was a brief silence on the other end. Gary's heart was pounding. His manhood began straining against the seam of his pants. He couldn't believe how this was unfolding.
All he could say was a gentle, "yes Marlene". A soft, but somewhat wicked smile crossed Marlene's lips as she continued to swing her black stiletto.
"Now Gary," she said calmly into the phone, "about my needs." Are you listening carefully, Gary?"
All Gary could muster was another..."yes Marlene".
"Excellent", she said calmly." I have three simple, yet unwavering needs, Gary. Do not forget them.... devotion, worship, and obedience. Repeat them for me."
Gary could hardly breathe, his breaths coming in quick, shallow, erratic gasps. Carefully he repeated the words. "Devotion, worship, obedience."
Marlene smiled again at the way Gary composed himself to complete those words. She sensed the total awe that was eating Gary alive, and she loved it.
"Very good, Gary", she said, "One last thing. You are now mine and no one else's."
Marlene spoke one more time...."I need a strong man, Gary. You intrigued me from the beginning because I saw both strength and surrender in your eyes. I need both. I'll be in contact with you very soon. Good night, Gary."
Marlene pressed the 'end' button on the portable telephone with a single 'tap' of the long, red nail of her index finger, and set the phone on the end table next to the chair.
She let her head fall back into the cushion of the overstuffed chair. Oh, how she was going to love this. She could almost hear Gary's soft, sweet squeal of ecstasy...and she felt the wonderful little tingle between her legs because of it.
-
AMBITION
AMBITION by R. Starkweather
Like millions of guys, Geoff Carlson liked to look at internet porn, and like most of those
millions of guys, Geoff knew it was just for fantasy. His particular turn-on happened to
be women with long, real fingernails and toenails, and that limited his choices
considerably. For one thing, it ruled out fake nails of any description. For another thing,
it seemed like a lot of "nail guys" didnt really care how the rest of the woman looked as
long as her nails were long, because some of the hands and feet were obviously fat and/or
middle-aged. Many of the pictures with long, real nails omitted showing the rest of the
woman, and Geoff suspected a percentage of them might not even be women. Some
showed everything but a face. With most, only their fingernails were long, not their
toenails. What Geoff longed for seemed like it didnt exist: A young, beautiful, sexy
woman with long, sexy real fingernails and toenails. Then Geoff found Delilahs site.
Delilah was one in a million. She was young and hot. Tall and thin, with long shapely
legs and long, flowing dark hair that matched her sultry eyes. Her skin was flawless, her
face radiantly beautiful. Straight, pearlescent white teeth, framed by succulent, full lips
in a warm smile that got Geoff hard even before he looked at her nails. But, oh what
nails! Delilahs fingers and toes were long and slim, with long nailbeds. Her fingernails
were nearly two inches long, with just the slightest, sexiest curvature. Her toenails on her
big toes were an inch long, and the rest were almost half an inch. They also grew with
just the smallest hint of a sexy arc. No twists or turns, just absolute natural perfection.
And her hands and feet looked to be pampered and baby-soft.
Though Delilah posted complete pictures of herself, there was no nudity and no sex acts.
She was cautious not to reveal her city, or even her home country, but it was obvious that
she struggled with the English language. She kept a little FAQ that mentioned shed been
keeping long fingernails and toenails since she was barely into her teens, and that she was
seriously into high fashion. Her FAQ said that she worked in an office. Geoff doubted
that a careerwoman would be able to keep her fingernails so long, not to mention her
toenails which mandated year-round wearing of open sandals and no nylons. And unless
all her clothes were knockoffs, it appeared from the pictures that she spent a lot on her
wardrobe. Geoff wondered how she managed that, at her age, in some eastern-European
country. Maybe she had a rich husband or boyfriend, or both. Geoff doubted her website
produced an income that could sustain the lifestyle she aspired to.
A lot of what Delilah did on her site was role-playing, and rather obvious and heavy-
handed. Since she took requests for photoshoots and clips, she encouraged her
subscribers to e-mail her. Geoff held off for a long time, but finally he sent her an e-mail.
He asked her a question: "What are you really like?" She wrote him back "I am really
like nice clothes and also shoes. Maybe you want buy me something?" Geoff chuckled
at how shed misunderstood his question. Or maybe she understood, but was avoiding
answering. He e-mailed back: "I would love to buy you some clothes, but what I was
asking was, what kind of a person are you, when you are not acting for the internet? If it
is too private, you dont have to answer." It was several days and there was no reply.
Finally she wrote: "Funny but no guy ever ask me that. Every guy just want talk my
nails and some act they want me to make. BTW, I am very nice person. Thank you for
ask."
Over the next few months, Geoff and Delilah exchanged hundreds of e-mails. She
admitted that she didnt really work in an office. She lived with her parents in a small
apartment and did makeup part-time for a local TV station, also for brides, and sold
cosmetics, in addition to her internet activities. She swore she didnt have a serious
boyfriend, because they all wanted to get married and have kids. That wasnt the life she
envisioned for herself, stuck in a tiny apartment surrounded by crying babies. Their e-
mails became more private, not in a sexual way, but emotional. There was flirting, but it
was respectful and sweet, never crass or vulgar. Gradually their conversations became
deeper and more intimate. She said shed never met a man before who was truly
interested in her inner thoughts. She said she thought she might be falling for him. She
would like to pursue it further, to spend time with him in person. Her city was not
interesting, she said. Shed love to come to America, but she couldnt afford to.
Hmmm. Was that a baited hook? Geoff was falling for her too, but he wasnt stupid. He
took whatever she said with a spoonful of suspicion. For all he knew it was all a scam,
and she was married and just looking for some stupid lovestruck fetishist to pay her way
to the states. But on the other hand, she seemed quite sincere, and there was probably not
another woman on earth who so perfectly embodied all the traits he yearned for: youth,
beauty, charm, intelligence, and twenty spectacularly long and sexy nails. She was the
woman of his dreams, and he could either cower behind his suspicions and continue to
dream about her, or take a chance on having her for real. But he would have to safeguard
himself in case she was scamming him. Geoff was very well-set financially, having
made a tidy sum in the days of the dot.com runup, which he had invested wisely. He had
a house on a private inlet not far from Miami, a 28-foot Cigarette speedboat, and a
Porsche 911 Turbo Cabriolet. He did some high-end website design and consulting from
time to time, but really didnt need to work. He was far from in the same league with a
famous software mogul, but to someone like Delilah, Geoff was the quintessential Rich
American. Geoff wasnt a cut young stud by any means, and he didnt delude himself
into thinking someone with her looks would be into him except for his ability to give her
the lifestyle she dreamed of. He didnt expect her to fall in love with him, but it was
worth a chance. He just didnt want to be made a fool of. He wasnt about to be her
sugar daddy while she ran around with other guys.
Geoff knew an attorney, through a friend of a friend, who had experience with the
mailorder bride "industry", was an expert in immigration law, and had inside
connections with INS and Homeland Security. If Delilah tried to play him, Geoff could
make one phone call and shed find herself on a plane back home before she knew what
happened. He wouldnt give her money or a car, and being a computer geek, Geoff could
easily trace who she called, texted, or e-mailed. He wasnt going to keep her a prisoner,
but he would keep close tabs on her until he was sure she wasnt up to something. He
thought that keeping himself suspicious was also better for him on an emotional level, so
he wouldnt feel horribly betrayed if she did turn out to be a scammer. So Geoff had no
long-term expectations, no elaborate plans for the future. He was just going to fulfill his
fantasy, for as long as it would last, and if things worked out, so much the better.
Geoff waited outside Customs, holding a white cardboard sign with "Delilah" printed in
black marker. His heart was racing, and he kept wiping the sweat from his forehead.
Suddenly he saw her emerge through the doors. She was even taller than hed imagined,
partly because she was wearing six-inch platform sandals. Her slender hips swayed
seductively as she walked, and she carried herself with the self-assuredness of someone
aware and delighted that all eyes were on her, in awe of her uncommon beauty. She was
wearing a tight knitted top that revealed her firm, ample breasts, and an above-the-knee
pleated orange skirt that swished as she walked. It showed her tight ass and perfect hips,
and revealed her tanned, toned, long legs. When she saw her name on Geoffs sign, she
smiled her radiant smile and began walking a little faster. When she was close to him,
she spread her arms and embraced him, and she kissed him on one cheek, then the other,
and then again on the first, in European style. Delilah slowly brushed back her long,
luxurious hair with her fingers. She was aware that Geoff was scanning her from head to
toe, and she was loving it as much as he was. She knew he was mainly checking out her
long, clear-polished fingernails, and long, pink-polished toenails. He took her carryon
and she took his arm. "Wheres the rest of your luggage?" he asked. "My…?" she
asked, confused. "Luggage? Suitcases? Bags?" he said. "Oh! Baggage! This is all I
am bring," she said, holding up her carryon, a large shiny red duffel with a designer logo.
She slipped her hand under Geoffs arm, he could feel her nails gently pressing in, and he
got a hardon. "You will shop me for sexy new clothes, yes?" she said with a cheerful
smile.
In the parking garage, Geoff opened the passenger door of his black 911 and watched her
slip inside. The way she moved was so feminine, so seductively feline. Geoff started the
engine and put the Porsche in gear, and they left the garage. "I like your car," she said,
softly scraping her two-inch fingernails slowly across the dash. "If you like I can put the
top down," Geoff offered, his voice trembling from the sound her nails made. "Yes I
like," she said. At a stoplight, Geoff dropped the convertible top, and Delilah took a deep
breath of the warm, slightly humid tropical air, and she looked up at the palm trees. She
gave a little squeal when the car started moving and her very long hair began to blow
across her face. "Im sorry, I forgot about your hair. I can put the top up," Geoff
apologized. "No! Is ok. I love blow my hair in the wind," she said, pulling it off her
face. Her smile was incredible. Almost as incredible as her nails. Delilah pushed her
high-heeled sandals off and put her legs up, resting her crossed ankles on the sideview
mirror with her feet catching the breeze. "Is feels so good! My feet are so tired after
airplane," she said, resting her head on Geoffs shoulder. Geoff watched her long, pink-
polished toenails with the sunlight filtering through them. Delilah shouted over the noise
of the wind and the engine, "I will take off my pink polish, and make clear polish my
long toenails, when we got home. I remember how you like them clear polished, yes?"
Her hair brushed against his arm in the breeze as he shifted gears. She gently scratched
her long fingernails on his bare thigh. "Yes?" she repeated. "Yes, thank you," Geoff
said, his dick straining uncomfortably inside his shorts, "But any way you want them, I
like them." She smiled her sexy smile and gave him a soft, wet kiss on his cheek.
"Youre very sweet guy," she said.
When Geoff drove up to his house, Delilahs jaw dropped, and she exclaimed something
in her language. Geoff didnt understand it, but he figured it probably translated to "Cha-
ching!" or "Jackpot!". "Oh my God! Is so beautiful house! Is supposed to for queen! I
am like in the…how you say? Fairy tale," she said, her eyes popping. Delilah waited
patiently for Geoff to come around to her side, open the door, and give her a hand.
Belying her modesty, she seemed accustomed to being treated royally. Geoff grabbed
her carryon bag and they went through the front door. Once again, Delilah was
awestruck by the size and grandeur of Geoffs house. He gave her the grand tour, and
she was duly impressed with each room. "Your kitchen is bigger than whole my flat
back home," she said. Geoff smiled, "Youll have to make me some of your food. I bet
its delicious." Delilah laughed. "Back home, my mother is one who does only cook. I
stay far away from kitchen because I can easy break my long nails in there," she said.
Geoff showed her around the house, finally to the master suite, with its king-sized bed,
and jacuzzi and marble shower in the bathroom. The master bedroom looked out onto a
large, screened-in pool. "I love make myself tan," Delilah said. "Would you like to lay
out for a while, before the sun goes down?" Geoff asked. "Oh yes!" Delilah said, "But
first I must take off polish from my long toenails, like I was promise you." She patted his
one cheek and gave him a little kiss on the other. He wanted to make a move on her right
then and there, but he chickened out. Delilah opened her carryon and took out a large
zippered bag. She spread the contents out on one nightstand, after casually sweeping
aside what was already on it. Then she took a bottle of polish remover and some cotton
balls and sat against the headboard. She looked at Geoff with a sly smile. "You like to
watch?" she said. He nodded. "Maybe you like to do for me?" she asked. Geoff smiled
big. He sat on the bed and she leaned back and folded her arms behind her head. Geoff
saturated a cotton ball with remover and reached for her ankle. "If you do perfect job I
will make you special reward," Delilah said with a wink. Geoff had never removed
someones toenail polish before, plus his hands were shaking. Delilah laughed. Her feet
were even softer than hed fantasized. As the polish came off and Geoff could see
exactly how long her toenails were, his heart pounded. "Before, I will always cut them a
little when they got so long, but because I know I am come here, I am save them just for
you," she said in a tiny voice. "Im glad. Thanks," Geoff said, barely able to get the
words out. "Do you want I will keep them very long always?" she said. Geoff nodded and
swallowed hard. "I will if you very, very nice to me," she smiled. Geoff looked at her
polish-free toenails and then at her. "Did I do ok?" he asked. Delilah peered down at her
feet, then she grasped an ankle in each hand and pulled both feet up within inches of her
face, scrutinizing her toenails. Geoff stared straight between her legs. It appeared she
was wearing a tiny thong bikini, and her snatch had been waxed clean, there wasnt a
trace of hair peeking out. "You did great job," she said. She stretched her legs forward
in her languid, catlike way, and she rested her velvety-soft feet on Geoffs arms. Slowly
she stroked them down his arms, then back up, then down again. Geoff was mesmerized.
And, hard as a rock. On the next downstroke she curled her toes just a little, so her long
toenails very lightly scraped along his arms. Delilah laughed softly, and Geoff looked up
into her sultry eyes and watched her radiantly beautiful smile spread across her
voluptuous lips. She put both feet up to the sides of his face. Geoff reached for her
ankles and turned his head to taste her toes. "No, no!" she scolded playfully, "That is not
in your reward!" Geoff dropped his hands to his sides and faced her. Delilah began to
rub his face gently between her silky soles. Her toenails were right in front of his eyes.
She lightly scratched his cheeks with her toenails, and Geoff let out a moan and he
shivered. "My long toenails are so sharp," she said almost in a whisper, lowering one
foot and gently scratching his chin and down his throat, "If I am not careful, they will
make cuts." Delilah scratched her toenails slowly down Geoffs arms again, staring into
his eyes, smiling. Delilah quickly pulled her feet back. Geoff was panting, "Oh my God,
dont stop now! Why did you stop?" "Because, now I want put clear polish my long
toenails," she said, reaching for a bottle of lacquer, "Do you want watch me?" His head
throbbing, Geoff sighed, "Sure."
Geoff watched Delilah slowly, meticulously paint her long toenails with clear polish.
She held her foot with one hand while she applied the polish, occasionally glancing up to
observe Geoffs reaction. He watched her two-inch fingernails wrapped around her
lovely foot, the brush slowly transforming each long toenail, stroke by stroke, from matte
to high-gloss. Without looking at Geoff, Delilah asked, "Does my nails in-person got
you harder than pictures?" Geoff moaned, and she heard his breathing grow faster. She
laughed, "I think that is a yes." Delilah raised one foot slowly to his face and caressed
his cheek with her soft, warm sole. It was slightly damp, and the faint aroma of her sweat
plus the strong smell of fresh nail polish filled his nostrils and increased his arousal.
"What if I will scratch you little bit with my long toenails?" she asked while stroking his
cheek with them. Geoff moaned loudly, and he nuzzled his face into her foot. He opened
his mouth and reached his tongue for her foot. Quickly Delilah pulled her foot back.
"My new polish is not dry! You going to spoil it!" she scolded. "No! I promise I wont
touch the polish! Just your toes. Please?" Geoff begged. Delilah rolled her eyes toward
the ceiling as if she was considering his request. Then she smiled and lifted one foot
toward him. "You allow only to kiss my beautiful toes, you not allow to licking or
sucking them!" she warned. Geoff nodded, and she put her toes against his lips, which
were already puckered in anticipation. Geoff kissed Delilahs toes and sole with tender
passion, being careful not to suck on them or use his tongue. "I like you take me
shopping now!" she said suddenly, stepping off the bed. She unfolded a piece of paper
she took from her purse, and showed it to Geoff. He glanced at the paper, printed from
an internet search. It mentioned an upscale mall not far from there, with the most
exclusive, expensive boutiques and department stores. "I like you take me that place,"
she said.
The parking valet at the mall nearly fell over when he took Delilahs hand to help her
from the Porsche, and saw her two-inch natural nails. There were multitudes of beautiful
young women shopping at the open-air mall. Trophy wives and girlfriends, living the
life of leisure, melting their husbands/boyfriends American Express cards. Delilah
turned even their heads when she walked by. Males, gay and straight, stared openly at
her. Geoff could tell which were the straight ones, they were the ones who looked at him
with burning envy. Salespeople rushed to serve Delilah, knowing that with her perfect
models figure, everything would fit her and look as fabulous as it did when it debuted on
the runways of Paris. And they were right. She looked like a cover girl in everything she
tried on. Store personnel and customers alike stared and ogled at Delilahs nails. Most
of them asked her if they were real, which she took great pride in affirming. Several
women commented that, on Delilah, nails that long looked gorgeous, and not a bit tacky.
Many asked her how she managed to grow them so long without breaking, and if they
were a hindrance in any way. Nobody asked or suggested they might be impractical at
work or around the house. Few if any women who shopped at that mall had careers or
did housework. Shoe stores were more entertaining for Geoff. One fortyish shoe
salesman, harried and tired by that time of day and distracted in conversation with
another salesperson, did a double-take and nearly fell off his stool when he looked down
and saw Delilahs ten incredibly long toenails. "My, your toenails are…unusually long,"
he said, sounding tactful. "Hehe, thanks," Delilah said, batting her long, thick eyelashes,
"I think they very sexy. So my boyfriend." Geoff heard only that Delilah had referred to
him as her boyfriend. He didnt care that the salesman looked at him like he was some
kind of kinky freak. Delilah didnt know what her American shoe-size was, so the
salesman had to measure her foot. He coughed and smiled self-consciously when he tried
to decide whether to go by the end of her big toe, or the nail that extended an inch farther.
"Is ok if my long toenails will sticks out a little, but not too much," Delilah offered
helpfully. Three boxes of $600/pair shoes were added to the bags with a half-dozen
$500 tops, four $1200 skirts, one $5000 designer dress, a $700 pair of sunglasses, and
$1500-worth of cosmetics that Geoff carried while Delilah sashayed through the mall,
basking in the admiring stares of onlookers. Suddenly she stopped and pressed her nose
up to a store window, cupping her hands around her face to stop the reflection. She
tapped her long fingernails excitedly against the glass and gestured for Geoff to come
look. "Oh my God," Geoff muttered, seeing the rows of diamond, emerald and ruby
jewelry, and the display of diamond-rimmed Rolex and Patek watches. "I am only can
dream to have such things," she said ruefully, taking Geoffs hand and leading him away.
The valet brought the car, and as they drove off, Delilah leaned over and put her soft, wet
lips against his ear and whispered, "I want thank you for shopping me. What if I will
thank you with my nails?" Geoff smiled. "That would be nice," he said trembling, and
he started driving faster, eager to get home. Delilah scratched her nails gently up and
down his arm and watched his pants tent-up. Geoff gasped, "Wait, I thought you meant
when we get home." "I want to do now," she said with a bright smile, slipping her hand
into his shirt and unbuttoning it. "Oh God!" Geoff panted, feeling her two-inch
fingernails drawing circles around his nipples, scraping and poking and plucking at them
playfully, her purring and giggling in his ear, kissing and nibbling on his neck. Geoff
gripped the wheel white-knuckled. He had to brake for a red light, and Delilah turned his
face to her using her nails on his cheek. Long after the light turned green Delilah
continued to stroke him with her nails, ignoring the blaring horns and screaming curses
from behind them, until finally the light turned yellow. Geoff side-stepped the Porsches
clutch and blasted through, praying that nobody in line behind them had a loaded gun and
suffered from road-rage. Delilah laughed and leaned back against the door. She slipped
her toes under his short shirtsleeve and scratched his arm softly with her long toenails,
while she rested her other foot on his hand, gripping it with her toenails as he shifted
through the gears. Geoff smiled at Delilah and she smiled back. Concealed by her new
$700 sunglasses, her gaze was directed at the tent in his pants.
"Are you hungry?" Geoff asked. "Oh yes," Delilah replied. "Pizza and a coke ok?" he
asked. "Tsk, it is ok if I will be some plain girl with fake nails" she sniffed. "Im sorry, I
didnt mean to insult you," Geoff said, "What would you…." "I prefer filet mignon and
best champagne, in nice restaurant where is tables has white sheets," she interjected.
Geoff laughed. "It is not joke!" she said, incensed. Geoff could see that Delilah had a
quick temper. "Oh no! I was laughing because you called tablecloths sheets. Sheets
are for the bed," Geoff explained. "I will like you try speak my language. Then I will
laugh you, and you will decide how it is funny," she said, turning her head away and
lifting her chin in the air. Geoff pleaded, "Please dont be angry. I thought it was cute.
The important thing is I understood what you meant." "Hmph! I do not forgive you,"
she said. "Tell me what I can do to make you forgive me!" Geoff demanded. Delilah
tapped her chin with her long index nail as though pondering the question. Then she
raised her sunglasses to her head and smiled at Geoff. "I think….if tomorrow we will
back to the store with jewelry, I will find something that going to forgive you," she said
with a wink.
Geoff pulled up to a fancy French restaurant. The parking valet had the same reaction as
the one at the mall earlier, upon seeing Delilah. The hostess, herself a tall, gorgeous
young woman, presented herself initially with the narcissistic swagger of someone well
aware of her hotness, but she seemed to wither almost instantly at the sight of Delilah. In
an almost cowtowing manner, the hostess asked Delilah how her nails got so long.
"Because I did not cut them," she answered. She hadnt meant it to be facetious or
abrupt, but the hostess blushed and walked away. They ordered a couple filet mignons
and a bottle of champagne---Dom Perrignon, at Delilahs request. All the waiters took
turns coming over to ask Delilah if everything was to her satisfaction. Geoff split his
attention between Delilahs sultry, sexy eyes, her full, luscious lips, and her incredible
two-inch fingernails. His excitement grew by the second. After the meal, the waiter
brought two glasses of expensive brandy and a warm chocolate souffle with two spoons.
Geoff and Delilah each took a spoonful of souffle. He was about to eat his, when he saw
the look of disdain on her face. She leaned forward, opening her beautiful mouth, at the
same time bringing her spoonful toward his face. Couples at other tables watched them
feed each other slow spoonfuls of dessert. The women no doubt were envying the
uninhibited public display of sweet, romantic intimacy. The men were surely envying
Geoff, and ogling Delilah….until they would suddenly face back to their wife or
girlfriend, probably the result of a kick in the shins under the table, concealed by the long
white linen tablecloths. The tablecloth also concealed Delilah stroking her long toenails
slowly up and down Geoffs leg, and the huge tent in his pants. After the waiter had
brought them coffee, Delilah reached in her purse and took out a cigarette and lighter.
"Oh….Its against the law to smoke in a restaurant here. Im sorry," Geoff said. "Is ok,
I am not really like to smoke. Smoking is bad thing. Not smart. I am only do because
guys thinks it look sexy," she said. "Actually….not me," Geoff said. "No? So! I will
not ever smoke," she said, stuffing the cigarette back into the pack and handing it and the
lighter to Geoff, "Take away."
Geoff put the top down on the Porsche, and Delilah gazed up at the star-filled sky.
"Where to now?" Geoff asked, "To a club? Dancing?" Delilah laughed, "Oh, my God! I
am little bit drunk, I maybe will fall on the floor if I will try to dance. Also I am so full
up with food. I need some walk." "Your wish is my command," Geoff said. Delilah
cocked her head and wrinkled her brow. "I will do anything you want," Geoff re-
phrased. "That is good," she said. Geoff pulled into a parking spot by the beach. They
both left their shoes in the car and Geoff unbuttoned his shirt and rolled up his pants.
They walked down a short, grassy embankment and onto the sand. Delilah went straight
to the waters edge and waded in ankle-deep. Together they walked, hand-in-hand, their
feet washed by the warm, gentle surf, listening to the waves, smelling the salt air, looking
up at the stars and the bright, full moon. "Look after my sexy feet," Delilah smiled,
pointing Geoff to the footprints she made in the wet sand. Out in front of the depressions
of each of her ten toes were the distinct imprints of her long toenails. Delilah slipped her
hand around his waist and leaned against his shoulder. He put his arm around her and
they walked on. In a while she reached over and softly scratched her long fingernails on
his arm, which made him stop and look at her. She cupped his face with one hand,
pressed her two-inch fingernails into him, and she turned him to her. She slipped her
hands under his shirt and around his back. He felt the heat of her breath against his
mouth. She whispered, her lips brushing against his, "Now while I am scratch you with
all of my beautiful perfect long nails, we will kiss in the way how lovers kiss." If Geoff
harbored any fears that Delilah might not live up to the fantasies hed invented, those
fears were vanished now. Delilahs kiss was hot and deep, yet tantalizingly soft and
tender. The repetitive stroking of her long fingernails on his back was passionate but
teasingly gentle, and soon joined by her long toenails up and down his shin. She parted
from their kiss, and Geoff opened his eyes. Delilahs full pink lips slowly opened into a
radiant, satisfied smile. She made one pass with her long, shiny-clear fingernails across
his chest, slowing to scratch each of his nipples, before she resumed scratching his back
slowly. Delilah closed her eyes and immersed him in another long kiss. "I am kissing
ok, yes?" she asked. "God yes," Geoff managed to squeak. "Nobody ever you know
before who so hot kiss like me, did she?" Delilah asked. "Never," Geoff panted.
Without saying a word, just smiling her sexiest smile, she took his hand and began
leading him down the beach toward where they had parked.
Geoff drove quickly, anticipating with growing excitement what was surely going to
happen when they got home. He couldnt believe it was happening so fast, on the first
day she arrived. Of course, between the mall and dinner hed spent around $17000 on
Delilah, so it wasnt coming cheap, but after all, she was one in a million, and she wanted
him. At each red light, they kissed and petted. Geoff slipped his fingers into her low-cut
cocktail dress and felt her breasts, and he felt up under the hem, though she kept her legs
together and moved his hand away. But she did it gently and sweetly, with a teasing
smile. He pulled into the driveway and went around to help her out of the car, where she
sat patiently waiting for him. They went to the master bedroom, and Delilah kicked off
her shoes and picked up her carryon bag and walked to the bathroom. She poked her
head out from behind the door, drummed her long fingernails against the wood, smiled at
Geoff and said, "Wait me." Geoff quickly undressed and got under the covers, then he
remembered and rummaged through his nightstand drawer for a box of condoms. He was
already hard when the bathroom door opened and Delilah came out. She was wearing a
short, red silk teddy, her long, dark hair flowing around her. She kneeled on the bed, and
then she sat down. Geoff sat up and kissed her shoulder, and she purred softly. Then
Delilah picked up her hairbrush from the nightstand and began brushing her very long
hair. "Do you really have to do that now?" Geoff asked impatiently. "Each night I must
make 100 times the brush in my beautiful long hair," she said, "Now if you make me
forget where I count, I will need start again." Geoff sighed and put his arms around her
waist, and she purred and scratched his arm lightly with her nails. Finally she finished
brushing her hair and crawled under the covers. Then she took his hand and pulled it
around her while she turned her back to him, urging him to spoon her. Geoff began
kissing her neck. "Ohhh, that is feels so nice," she whispered, "I am fall asleep." "I
thought you wanted to make love," Geoff said, dejected. Delilah turned toward him.
"Now I am tired, after so much fly and everything today," she said, "I want it will be
perfect when we first time make love. You understand, yes?" "Sure. I understand," he
grumbled. "Awww, poor baby," Delilah said, spying the tent in the covers from Geoffs
erection. "I do something help you, ok?" she said. "Ok!" Geoff replied eagerly.
Delilah slowly uncovered him, watching his cock spring free and stand straight up and
rock hard. Delilah looked at it, then at him, and she smiled approvingly. "I want watch
you do yourself to my nails," she said. "You mean…?" Geoff asked. Delilah nodded,
"Like you do when you watch me on the computer." Geoff felt an odd twinge of
embarrassment at the thought of jerking off in front of her, but he needed the release too
much to resist. Geoff wrapped his hand around it and started to jerk. "Do slowly," she
whispered. At that moment, slow was the last thing Geoff wanted, but he did as she said.
"Will you like if I touch you someplace with my nails?" she asked with sincerity. Geoff
nodded. Delilah slowly scratched a single long fingernail down his arm. Then all four.
She laughed softly. She scratched her nails in light circles around his chest, and across
his stomach. "I so much love to scratch with my nails," she said. She could hear Geoff
breathe harder and faster. Delilah smiled and raised her leg in the air, swiveling her foot
and spreading her toes. She put her lips near his ear and whispered, "What if I will also
scratch you with my sexy long toenails?" Geoff moaned and nodded. Delilah moaned
softly in his ear and licked it, lowering her foot slowly until she touched his knee. Slowly
she dragged her long toenails up and down his thigh. She rested her foot on his hand
while he continued slowly jerking himself. Finally she squeezed her toenails lightly into
his hand and whispered, "Now you will cum." Geoff came instantly. Delilah laughed
and smiled her sexy smile. She kissed him tenderly on the lips and stroked his face with
her nails while he struggled to catch his breath. Delilah looked at her foot and wiggled
her toes. Some of his cum had dribbled on her toes. "Im sorry about that," Geoff said.
Delilah smiled. "I am not," she said, and she took hold of her ankle and pulled her foot to
her mouth and relished licking her long toenails clean while Geoff watched. "Goodnight
my sweet," she said softly, kissed his lips gently, and she laid her head on his chest and
closed her eyes. Geoff lay there, watching her beautiful two-inch nails resting on his
chest, her long hair flowing over him, her leg draped over his with her long toenails
touching his ankle. He tried hard not to let himself become turned on again. He could
hardly wait for morning, when Delilah would be well-rested, and hopefully they would
have sex.
Delilah was still adjusting to the time change, so she was awake very early. By the time
Geoff awoke, she was already up and dressed. As soon as she saw his eyes open, she
smiled and said, "I am so much hungry! But I was wait you will wake up." Geoff
rubbed his eyes. "I usually just grab a cup of coffee and a danish in the morning," he
said. Delilah pulled him out of bed and said, "Come. You need make for me big
breakfast. In Europe is most important meal." Geoff pulled his boxers on and followed
her out to the kitchen, where he made her eggs and ham, and toast with butter and jam.
He watched her lick her long fingernails, and he started getting hard and wanting her. It
dawned on him that being around Delilah, he would probably be in that state more or less
constantly. "Hurry to dress," she urged him, "Remember you promise me take to jewelry
store today." Geoff remembered, but he hoped she might forget. Ha! Fat chance.
Delilahs eyes were like saucers the moment she walked into the jewelry store. The
proprietor sized the situation up immediately, and Geoff knew he was a goner. She
immediately set aside a gold Rolex watch with diamonds around the dial. "It is my! So
do not allow that some other will buy!" she warned the proprietor, who smiled and
assured her that he had several more in stock. "Oh, Geoff! I fall love with this!" she
exclaimed, draping a diamond tennis bracelet across her delicate wrist. "You have
impeccable taste," the proprietor complimented her. One-carat diamond stud earrings,
surrounded by little emeralds and rubies caught Delilahs eye. "We have the pendant to
match," the proprietor informed, and she erupted with delight. The proprietors daughter,
herself a lovely young woman, finished waiting on another customer and came over
behind the counter to help. The girl gushed over Delilahs two-inch fingernails, all
natural and perfectly shaped. "I would love to grow nails, but my boyfriend hates them,"
she lamented. Delilah looked penetratingly into her eyes and said, "He only say he hate
them because he know grow your nails long will awakes the powerful sexy cat what
sleeps inside you….inside every woman. Then longer you grows your nails, then more
sexy and powerful will you become this cat, then weaker little mouse will be him."
Intimidated by Delilahs sudden intensity, the salesgirl trembled slightly and smiled
nervously. "May I show you these?" the girl asked, changing the subject. She took a
black velvet tray of toe rings from the case and laid it on the countertop. "Ummm, I am
like this one," Delilah said, tapping a long fingernail on one in white gold with a little
heart and a single sapphire. "Thats the one I like best, too," the girl said, "Lets try it on
you!" She came around in front of the counter and kneeled down at Delilahs feet. The
young womans expression was pure shock. Delilah slipped her foot out of her high-
heeled open sandal. The salesgirl swallowed hard, and gently took Delilahs foot in one
hand, preparing to slip the toe-ring on Delilahs second toe. The girls hands were
shaking. "Be careful you do not get scratch on my very sharp toenails," Delilah advised
her as the girl very cautiously passed the ring over the nearly half-inch long, clear-
polished toenail. "I do not interesting in it," Delilah smiled after contemplating the toe-
ring on her foot, "I am not need some ring to bring people looks to my feet. This does
already my beautiful long toenails." Geoff put his arm around Delilah and asked if she
was done shopping. "For today, yes," she said with a bright smile. Geoff breathed a sigh
of relief. The total for the watch, bracelet, earrings and pendant, in the high five-figures,
made him weak in the knees. Not as much as Delilah and her nails however, so he
willingly laid his gold Amex card on the counter. When he finished paying and turned to
walk away, Delilah was standing in front of another display counter having the
proprietors daughter let her try on diamond rings. Diamond engagement rings. She held
her hand up to Geoff. "This is one I dream," she said, modeling a three-and-a-half-carat
blue-white marquise flanked on each side by one-carat diamonds. The proprietor stood
beside his daughter looking over her shoulder. "Its $60,000. But for great customers
such as you two, I will let you have it for $55,000," the proprietor said. Geoff laughed
nervously and thanked them for their help. Delilah handed back the ring and whispered
something in the salesgirls ear, and the girl smiled and nodded and said, "Ok, I will."
"What did you tell her?" Geoff asked as they left. "I tell her dump her boyfriend what do
not want her grow long nails," Delilah laughed. Behind them in the store, the salesgirl
put the ring in a box and handed it to her father and said to him, "She asked to put it on
hold for 24 hours."
In the car, in the parking lot, Delilah opened all the boxes and put on all her new jewelry.
She squealed with girlish excitement and hugged Geoff tight, showered his face with
kisses. Delilah sat with her back against the car door and put her bare foot in Geoffs lap.
Then she worked her toes in under the leg openings of his shorts, gradually inching them
further inside by relaxing and clenching her toes, each time pressing her long toenails
into him. She smiled as his shorts tented up, and she massaged his rock-hard dick
through his briefs with her big toe. Geoff moaned softly. She probed through the slot in
his briefs and he felt her sharp inch-long toenail poke his dick, and he nearly blew his
load. "Im loving this, but maybe we should wait till we get home for you to reward
me," Geoff chuckled. Delilahs fiery temper suddenly flared. She yanked her foot out of
his shorts and folded her arms. "Hmph! It is not reward! I am not putana….how you
say? Hooker?" she shouted, her eyes burning with rage. "Oh, no! I didnt mean it like
that! I was just making a joke!" Geoff pleaded. "Joke is supposed make me laugh. Am I
laugh?" she snapped. "Im sorry. Really sorry. Please, please forgive me," Geoff
begged. He could see that through her anger, she was trying valiantly to hold back tears.
Speaking very calmly, trying to keep her voice from breaking, Delilah said, "All what I
have to gift you, it is my beauty, and my sexy long nails and toenails. I gift them to you
because I want make you happy, not because you will buy me stuff. I was think you gift
to me pretty clothes and jewelry because you want makes me happy, not because to feel
my nails on you." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. Geoff felt guilt-
wracked. Either Delilah was an Oscar-worthy actress, or she really did have feelings for
him. Maybe she even loved him. "Everything I do is only because I want to make you
happy," he said with quiet sincerity. Delilah rested her head on his shoulder and stroked
his arm with her long fingernails, and they did not speak again until they were back
home. In his driveway, when Geoff helped Delilah out of the car, she said, "Look me,
Geoff," and she struck a series of model poses, showcasing her incredibly sexy body and
beautiful face. "I can have some guy who much richer than you, if that is all what I was
want," she said. It was something he hadnt thought of before.
Geoff made lunch for the two of them, and afterward Delilah said shed like to lay out by
the pool. Geoff waited for her on the patio, and she emerged wearing a short terry robe.
Shed never put pictures of her on the net in a bathing suit, and Geoff always tried to
imagine what Delilah might look like in a tiny string bikini. His dick was responding to
the anticipation. Geoff opened a beach towel onto a chaise lounge and motioned Delilah
to it. Before she lay down, she took off her robe, slowly and sensuously, smiling
seductively at Geoff. She was completely nude. Momentarily he glanced toward his
neighbors house with alarm in his eyes, which turned to obvious relief that nobody was
outside. Seeing Geoffs reaction, Delilah said, "Tsk. Why Americans make such big
scandal about be nude?" "Its a long story," Geoff chuckled. "Tan lines is so ugly!" she
said.
The reality of Delilahs naked beauty went far beyond his wildest dream. Pure perfection
of form and shape. She didnt have a single blemish or an ounce of fat. Just a few tiny
beauty marks here and there, adding character to her smooth, perfect, tan skin. Her long,
dark hair and extremely long, clear, glossy nails completed the picture, a picture of
sublime femininity, so sexual and so feline. She handed Geoff a bottle of suntan oil and
lay down on her stomach and swept her long hair to one side, off her back. Geoff rubbed
the oil gently over her back. Delilah clenched her butt and bent one knee. "I need some
oil all over," she said. Geoff started massaging the oil onto her ass. It was hard and tight.
Solid muscle. Delilah purred like a cat. "Ummmm! You got so strong hands. Is feels so
nice to me. How I feels to you?" she asked. "Like warm silk," he said, working his way
down the back of her thighs and then her calves. He walked around her lounge, stopping
to savor the sight of her soft, wrinkled soles, and the underside of her long, clear, perfect
toenails that extended so far past the end of her succulent pink toes. "You will do my
front, too," she said with her radiant smile, turning slowly onto her back. Geoff took a
deep breath, and he smiled.
Geoff rubbed suntan oil on Delilahs shoulders and down her arms, then onto her flat,
hard abdomen. "You forget do these," she said with a giggle, cupping her breasts. Geoff
was already erect, and the vision of her ten two-inch fingernails framing her perky,
natural breasts had his dick straining against his shorts. Gingerly he rubbed oil onto her
breasts. Delilah closed her eyes and purred softly, and she lightly stroked the back of his
hands with her long, clear-polished fingernails. Her nipples hardened and enlarged
remarkably, and her breathing quickened. Delilah scratched her fingernails slowly on
Geoffs arms, and she took his wrists and gently moved his hands lower. He rubbed
suntan oil on her hips and thighs. She kept her long, sexy legs tight together, and Geoff
contemplated her hairless mound. He wondered if she was as wet as he was hard, if she
wanted him to touch her there. He slid his thumbs inside her thighs, hoping she would
relax and open her legs. Instead, she slid one foot up the other leg while turning her hips
slightly to one side so not to show him her pussy, and she stroked his leg with her long
toenails. "I like to some cold drink ," she said. "Coke or Pepsi?" Geoff asked. "What if
we will drink champagne?" Delilah said with a wink. Geoff returned momentarily with
two glasses, and a bottle of cold bubbly. "Ummmm," Delilah purred when she saw the
Dom Perignon label, her eyes sparkled and a sexy smile flashed across her incredibly
beautiful face. Geoff popped the cork and poured them each some champagne. Delilah
stood up to accept the glass, and wrapped her long, slender fingers around it. Her two-
inch clear fingernails clicked on the glass. "To the most beautiful woman in the world,"
Geoff toasted, "And, to us and the future." They clinked glasses and each took a sip.
Delilah looked up at him with just her eyes. They were dark and sultry, with long, thick
lashes, framed by dark, sculpted brows. She licked her lips slowly, and she smiled. She
came very close to him, he could feel the heat from her naked body. She pressed herself,
her breasts, against him. Slowly she put her arms around him. Slowly she brought her
mouth to his, closing her eyes, parting her lips. Her kiss was indescribably arousing,
tasting of expensive champagne, accompanied by the sensation of her incredible two-
inch fingernails softly scratching his back, and her long toenails up and down his shin.
Delilah set her champagne glass down on the patio table. She trailed her fingernails off
his arm as she moved, cat-like, to the pool steps, and slowly down into the warm water.
Delilah extended her hand toward Geoff. He followed her into the water and stood by
her. Delilah smiled at the enormous tent in his bathing trunks. "Someday you must tell
me story why Americans make such big scandal about be nude," she laughed, slipping
her long nails under the waist band. Geoff quickly rid himself of his trunks and tossed
them onto the tile. He embraced her tiny waist and she wrapped her arms around his
neck, pressing her naked, wet body against his, capturing his raging hardon between her
thighs. She smiled and let out a sexy purr. He leaned to kiss her. She laughed and put
her hands against his chest and pushed him off playfully. Her nails stung him, and left
white streaks on his skin. Giggling, she started swimming away, encouraging him to
follow her, to chase her. At the other end of the pool, Delilah turned and propped her
elbows on the tile ledge. As Geoff swam to her, she raised her leg in the air and flexed
back her foot. Geoff watched the droplets of water sparkle on her long toenails, the
tropical sun shining through them. She raked him slightly with her toenails, then she
wrapped her arms around him and they kissed long and passionately. Again she caught
his hardon between her legs, this time she slid her mound slowly back and forth along his
cock before slipping out of his embrace and swimming back toward the other end of the
pool, where she walked slowly up the steps and wrapped herself in the towel from the
chaise lounge. Geoff emerged from the pool, his dick still at full mast. Delilah half-ran
into the bedroom, giggling, with Geoff in pursuit. He pleaded urgently, "Lets make
love now. I want you so much." "I see how much you want me," she smiled, gently
easing him onto the bed on his back and kneeling over his cock. Geoff took a deep
breath and raised his arms toward her. She made a graceful, feline gesture with one hand
and lightly raked her two-inch nails up his shaft, gazing hotly into his eyes and purring a
soft, "Meeeow." Geoff moaned and nearly blew his load.
"What if I will do like this with my long fingernails?" Delilah asked, and she started
stroking his shins with her two-inch fingernails. "Oh God!" he moaned, sitting up
straight. Delilah crawled around behind Geoff on the bed, on her knees. She started
lightly scratching her long fingernails around his back. Then she reached around in front
of him and continued scratching his chest with the same slow, light strokes. She slipped
her two-inch thumbnails under his armpits and dragged them slowly down his sides,
meanwhile she rested her cheek on his shoulder and started kissing his neck. "Did you
used to imagine my nails can feel so good?" she asked between kisses. "I...theyre a
hundred…no, a thousand times better than I ever imagined," Geoff said breathlessly.
Delilah laughed quietly, kissing around the front of his breastbone and up his throat to his
chin, still slowly stroking his chest with her long, clear-polished fingernails. "Kiss me,
please!" Geoff whispered urgently. "I do kissing you," she whispered. "No, you know
what I want," he pleaded. "First you must to do what I want," Delilah. She sat down
behind him and wrapped her long legs around his waist. She spread her hands and feet in
front of him. "Look all my beautiful long nails and toenails," she said, kissing and
nibbling the back of his neck. She crossed her arms around him and leaned against his
back, scratching his arms slowly with her two-inch fingernails, while she scratched his
thighs with all her toenails. Delilah turned her face close to the side of Geoffs, he could
feel her hot, moist breath. Her luscious lips touched his ear while she whispered, "My
nails are get you so hot, dont they?" She scratched her fingernails across his stomach.
Geoff felt his balls tighten and the sensation of orgasm beginning. Delilah brought her
feet to his lap and held his cock firmly between her arches, starting to move her feet up
and down his shaft. Slowly. Too slowly. Geoff felt his orgasm retreat. He went to take
hold of her feet to move them quicker. Delilah leaned back, pulling Geoff with her, so he
couldnt reach her feet with his hands. "You do not allowed to help," Delilah whispered.
Delilah stroked his cock faster. He felt himself rising toward cumming. Then she slowed
back down. She leaned Geoffs head back and kissed him hard, intertwining her tongue
with his. He moaned. She lifted her head and smiled at him. Then she kissed him again,
harder, probing her tongue deeper inside his mouth. Stroking his raging hardon between
her warm, soft soles, scratching his arms slowly with her two-inch fingernails, she took
him to the brink of cumming and held him back, again and again. Delilah ended the kiss
and wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed him on his cheek and traced her two-
inch index nail slowly around his lips.
Geoff jumped when he felt several sharp pricks on his cock. He looked down, and
Delilah had curled her toes around his cock. She began to stroke it with her long
toenails! She rested her chin on his shoulder and rubbed her breasts against his back.
Delilah bit the back of Geoffs neck playfully. "See how I scratch my long toenails on
your cock," she said. Geoff took a deep breath, trying with all his will not to cum. He
could feel her eight smaller toenails lightly scraping up and down the underside of his
shaft, while the inch-long toenails on her big toes stroked the top side. Geoff started
moaning louder and faster, the pitch of his voice rising almost to soprano. "Please! Stop!
Dont make me cum. I want to make love to you!" he screeched. Delilah ignored him
and stroked his cock faster with her long toenails. In a moment, ribbons of his cum
spurted high into the air. "Ai, bravo!" she laughed triumphantly. Geoff brimmed with
ecstasy, and yet was frustrated that intercourse was not going to happen now. "That
was…amazing," he panted. She kissed him quickly on the lips, "I can do even more
amazing. You will see. Now go, while I prepare myself for the evening. After the
restaurant you will take me dancing, yes?" Geoff nodded.
Geoff busied himself in his den/office checking his e-mails and netsurfing while Delilah
got herself dressed. He clicked on her website and pored over the pictures that he used to
masturbate to. He looked to the heavens and said a silent prayer of thanks, still trying to
comprehend that she was actually in the next room….that she had just jerked him off
with her long, incredible toenails….that she was his. "We will go now, yes?" she said
from behind him. Geoff hurriedly clicked off her website and spun around in his chair.
He went weak all over. Delilah struck a seductive pose in the doorway. She was wearing
a tight, black spaghetti-strap mini dress and black strappy platform sandals with eight-
inch heels. Her very long, dark hair flowed loosely over her slender, sexy curves, and all
of the jewelry hed bought her that morning sparkled on her like stars in the night sky.
Her amazingly long fingernails and toenails were painted bright red. "I know you prefer
my nails in clear polish, but tonight I felt like polish them red. You do not mind?" she
asked, walking slowly toward him, her entire body moving with the synchronous grace of
a panther, punctuated by the sharp strike of her high heels on the marble floor. "You
look incredible," Geoff exclaimed, rising to meet her. He looked up into her eyes, she
was a little taller than him in her platform sandals. Geoff brushed her hair away from her
soft, bare shoulder and gently urged her closer. Her glossy red lips beckoned him
irresistibly. "I just put my lipstick!" she whispered, stepping back just enough to deny
him the kiss he anticipated.
They went to another expensive, elegant restaurant, and just as the previous night, Delilah
once again captured the attention of everyone. The bottle of expensive champagne
arrived quickly in its silver bucket of ice, and the waiter popped the cork and poured.
Delilah admired her new diamond tennis bracelet and smiled at Geoff. She took the glass
in her left hand, he gazed at her two-inch shiny-red fingernails wrapped around the
slender glass and felt his dick straining in his pants. "Id like to drink to us….to the
future," he said. She looked deep into his eyes. "I so much wish believe you," she said
softly, extending her fourth finger away from the glass toward him as she took a single
sip. A perfect imprint, in red, of her succulent lips remained on the rim of her glass.
Geoffs heart raced.
After dinner they went clubbing. Geoff had never experienced anything like it before.
Delilahs looks got them in ahead of the longest lines at the trendiest clubs. They
comped her with free drinks….champagne, of course, was her choice. The women there
were all dazzlingly beautiful, but whenever Delilah passed by, they would shroud their
male companions like lionesses guarding their kill. Delilah pulled Geoff out to dance.
She moved so fluidly it was as if she had no skeleton, whipping and tossing her long,
dark hair, and clawing her red two-inch nails through the air. Geoff was hard as a rock,
and he knew there wasnt a flaccid cock in the room. The lust directed at her was
palpable, clearly she knew it, and yet she didnt flirt. Her eyes and body language made
it clear that she was not interested in being approached. Delilah held her icy glass of
champagne against her forehead and fanned herself with her hand. She plucked an ice
cube from Geoffs drink with her long fingernails and rubbed it sensuously on her
breastbone. He watched it melt and trickle down her cleavage. She put her lips to his ear
and shouted above the din, "I want go someplace where is quiet."
Geoff knew of a quiet little place not far away. "Is this ok?" Geoff asked dotingly, as
they walked in. "Is very nice," she said, squeezing his hand. Aside from a small candle
on each little table, the only other light in the room was a single dim, reddish spotlight
that shone on the small stage where a quartet consisting of sax, drums, piano and acoustic
bass played soft jazz while couples danced slowly in each others arms oblivious to the
presence of others. Geoff ordered brandies, and after a few sips they joined the other
couples on the dance floor. Delilah laid her head on Geoffs shoulder and held her body
as close to his as humanly possible. He could feel her heat, feel her breathe. In fact he
thought he could feel her heartbeat along with his. He put his hands around the small of
her back, and she willingly pressed herself against the hard bulge in his pants and
discreetly rubbed herself against him as they moved. Delilah scratched the back of his
neck softly, in time to the slow beat of the music. She traced her lips across his cheek
and drew him into a tender, lingering kiss. She looked at him with half-closed eyes and
he could feel her breathing quickly. "Would you like to go home?" he asked, and Delilah
nodded.
Geoff pulled to a halt in his driveway, jumped out of the car and raced around to the
passenger side where, as always, Delilah waited patiently for him to open her door and
take her hand. Inside the house Delilah slipped off her platform sandals at the door, put
her arms around Geoffs neck while she jumped into his arms. He was surprised at how
light she was, and he carried her easily to the bedroom and set her gently on the bed. .
Geoff struggled to undress quickly, but by the time he turned around Delilah was
completely naked, her long, dark hair discreetly arranged over her breasts, and a corner of
the sheet between her legs. He looked at her beautiful face, her incredible body….and
her bright red long fingernails and toenails, and he burned white-hot with lust. All he
wanted was to part her legs and feel his throbbing cock delve deep into her hot, wet
pussy.
"My feet so sore and hot from stay on them for all evening," she said with a pout. "You
will make me little massage, yes?" Geoff sighed. Anything to get into her pussy ASAP,
so he started massaging her feet. They were hot and damp, and the pungent scent of her
sweat mixed with the leather from her sandals wafted up his nose, making him even more
lust-filled. "I like if you will lick my feet. It does turns me on so much," Delilah said.
Geoff licked the length of her soles and sucked noisily on her heels. "Ohhh, is so good,"
she sighed. Geoff licked between her toes and sucked the pads, tasting the saltiness and
getting even harder. Delilah exclaimed some exultation to God in her own language.
"Ai, baby, you driving me crazy," she moaned. "I want you so bad," Geoff groaned. "I
want you bad also," she moaned. Geoff grabbed her ankles and spread her legs. Her
shaved pussy was wet and dripping with her juices. He moved forward to enter her, but
Delilah pulled her knees up and stopped him. "Why we will go fast? First I want you
will watch me lick all my nails," she said with a sexy smile, drawing her tongue slowly
up and down one of her two-inch fingernails. Geoff looked frustrated and dejected. "Do
you not like them anymore?" she asked. "I love them," Geoff pleaded. "I do not believe
you. I think maybe you want I will cut them," she said. "No! Dont cut them!" Geoff
shouted.
Delilah sat up against the headboard and folded her arms and legs. "Hmph! I start think
you like me only because my nails!" she said. "Thats not true!" Geoff insisted, "Your
nails make you ten times sexier than other women, but if you had short nails youd still
be at least twice as sexy as the rest." Delilah frowned in thought for a moment, then she
asked, "Why I should believe you?" "If you want to cut your nails to prove Im telling
the truth, then go ahead," Geoff said. Delilah launched at him and kissed him with
serious passion. "Ok, I am believe you. So dont worry. I am not ever cut my nails," she
whispered in his ear, scratching her long fingernails across his back. Geoff took her legs
and tried to unfold them, at first she resisted, then she relaxed and let him. She kissed
him hotly again, stroking his cheeks with her nails, and she wrapped her legs tightly
around his waist. "What if I will let you lick my nails?" she asked, poking his lips.
Geoff licked her long fingernails slowly. They were so smooth. The sensation of the
curvature of the underside of her nails against his tongue was nothing hed ever
experienced. The edges were thin and sharp. She scratched his shoulder with her other
hand, and traced an inch-long big-toe-nail slowly back and forth across the back of his
thigh. He was so hard, and wanted to fuck her. "Ummmm, I like when you lick my long
fingernails," she purred, "It gets me real hot." Geoff pushed down on her hips, and she
relaxed and opened her legs. This was going to be it. Finally.
Delilah suddenly flipped onto her stomach and bent her legs up. "Now you will lick my
long toenails?" she asked sweetly. Geoff sighed. Geoff kneeled behind her legs. Her
feet looked especially sexy from a sole view, so fleshy and smooth, with her incredible
long toenails extending from her slender but luscious toes. Geoff licked them lovingly,
passionately. Delilah put her feet together. "I want you put your cock inside my feet!"
she demanded urgently. Geoff slipped his erect dick into the space between her arches,
and she immediately tightened her soft, warm soles against it and started jerking him.
Her toes were curled, and he could feel his ballsack bouncing against her long toenails. It
was driving him quickly toward cumming. He held her ankles still. "Stop!" he said.
Delilah turned around on her knees and slowly opened her legs partway. Geoff was
boiling with lust, his cock jutting out in front of him like a pole. Delilah smiled and
leaned back, opening her legs wide. "This is what you want?" she asked teasingly,
pointing to her wet, shaved pussy with both two-inch index nails. "Dont you want it,
too?" Geoff exclaimed, coming closer. Delilah clasped his face in her hands, holding his
cheeks gently with her long, red nails, and whispered, "Yes I want. But I must warning
you. After this night, sex with any other woman will be always disappoint you." There
was not a trace of irony in her voice, and it made Geoff lust for her all the more. "Are
you sure you want?" she asked. "Yes! God yes!" Geoff panted.
Delilah put her fingers in front of her pussy like a barricade. "What is password?" she
teased. "Password?! Oh my God, Delilah, dont tease me anymore, I cant take it,"
Geoff whined. "Ok, I will tell you," Delilah sighed, opening her hands like a gate. Geoff
advanced his cock between them. "Password is long nails," she whispered, closing her
fingers against his cock and stroking it once with all ten, two-inch fingernails. And as
before, Geoff came. He fell on his back while she milked the last drops of cum from his
softening cock and licked them off her long red fingernails. He looked at Delilah with
disappointed eyes, and she smiled and kissed his lips softly. She laid her head on his
chest and scratched him idly with her two-inch fingernails. "I dont understand," Geoff
said, "Why do you keep doing that?….making me cum, so we cant have sex? I want to
make love to you. I love you."
Delilah raised her foot in the air. "Are my long toenails not incredible sexy!" she purred,
avoiding answering his question. "They are amazingly sexy," Geoff said. "They never
before was so long like now. Also my fingernails. Do you want I keep them like this?"
she asked. "Oh yes!" Geoff said. "What if I will grow them even longer?" she asked.
"Grow them as long as you want them," he said. Delilah smiled, "Oh, you know I will
not grow them unless I want." "Do you have a boyfriend back home? Is that it?" Geoff
asked, refusing to drop the issue. "I have many boyfriends back home," she answered.
Geoffs heart sank. "But I do not love any one, or in this time I will be instead with
him." "Wait, so are you saying you love me?" Geoff asked. "Do you not know unless I
am say it?" she asked with a hint of annoyance, "Ok, then I will say it. Yes. I love you."
Geoff turned to her, "So then, why wont you have sex with me? What else do I have to
say or do, for us to make love?" Delilah traced her long, red index nail around Geoffs
lips and then kissed him softly. "I let you to figure out," she whispered, and then she
turned her back and made him spoon her to sleep.
The next morning after Geoff made them breakfast, he sat across from Delilah, watching
her. She smiled sweetly, and extended her foot under the table and scratched his leg
lovingly with her long toenails. She put her foot in his lap and wiggled her toes, and
spread her fingers out on the table. "Do you mind if I will keep red polish on my
beautiful long fingernails and toenails for today, or will you like better I take off?" she
asked. "Whatever way makes you feel sexier," Geoff answered. "Any way you was
gonna answer, I am already decide to keep red today. But I am happy how you answer.
It was exactly right way," she said. "Feel like going for a ride?" Geoff asked. "Where
we will go?" she asked. "Its a surprise," he said. They went to the bedroom to get
dressed. Delilah put on all her new jewelry and admired herself in the mirror. Geoff
watched her, still awed by how amazingly beautiful she was….the picture of feminine
perfection from her sultry eyes down to her incredibly long, perfectly-shaped toenails.
Geoff realized that he couldnt take his eyes off her for more than a few seconds at a
time, even when he was driving. At first he could suffice to ogle her at stoplights, but
this morning he found himself compelled to steal glances at her constantly. He realized
also that being around her kept him in a constant state of arousal, and frequently he was
fully erect. It was the combination of her sexy attributes that made her overwhelmingly
irresistible. She had the most ungodly sexy set of perfect, two-inch fingernails hed ever
seen, plus ten beautifully-formed toes with unbelievably long, perfectly-shaped toenails,
plus the longest, most luxurious dark hair, plus the sexiest dark eyes in the world, and the
tenderest, juiciest lips. Her skin was soft and radiant, her legs were long and strong and
smooth, her body lean and lithe and she moved like a cat. And to top it all, she had the
sexiest attitude of any woman hed ever met. Self-confident, perhaps a touch of
arrogance….it was hard to tell on account of her English….and that too was sexy as hell.
Lost in lust, Geoff almost missed the turn into the mall.
Delilah smiled while Geoff helped her from the car. He practically dragged her running
to the jewelry store. "Oh my God, its gone!" Geoff cried, scanning the display case. He
looked at Delilah with tears in his eyes. Just then the proprietors daughter came out of
the back and handed Geoff a little black velvet box. "Is this what youre looking for?"
she asked, opening it. Geoff grabbed the girl and kissed her on the forehead. Then he
got down on one knee and asked Delilah to marry him. She put her red two-inch index
nail to her chin and looked up as if she were thinking. Then she looked down into
Geoffs hopeful eyes and smiled and said, "Yes, I will marry you." He slipped the huge
diamond on her delicate finger, past her slender, perfect two-inch shiny red nail, and
Delilah admired it. Geoff stood up and they kissed for a long time. They kissed at every
chance all the way home, and when they werent kissing, Delilah was admiring her ring.
Geoff couldnt believe what was happening. From being suspicious about her intentions
to proposing to her in a couple days. His head was spinning. What was he doing? Was
he insane? He had to be. He….he looked at her face….and her long, unbelievably sexy
nails….and all he wanted was to make love to her. Geoff helped Delilah from the car.
Delilah stepped out of her sandals inside the doorway and took his hand while they
walked to the bedroom, saying nothing, just smiling at each other. Geoff could hear the
sound of her damp bare feet sticking to the marble floor as she walked. At the bedroom
doorway she stood in front of him with her ice-cold toes on top of his, and felt the prick
of her long toenails. They kissed. Geoff carried Delilah to the bed, like hed done the
night before. She opened one button on her blouse and smiled at Geoff, and he
understood she wanted him to undress her. While he did, she undressed him, scratching
her amazing long fingernails on his skin, driving him insane with desire. Delilah sweetly
pushed Geoff on his back and she smiled and sat on top of his legs with her feet next to
his sides. She scratched her two-inch red fingernails over his stomach and looked
longingly at his dick which was standing at attention. Delilah leaned forward letting her
long, silky hair fall over him, and took his cock all the way in her mouth. Geoff stared at
the soles of her feet, she curled and uncurled her toes so he was watching her very long
toenails from all angles. Cupping his balls with her two-inch fingernails, she sucked his
cock hard and furiously until he was screaming "Oh…God!" over and over in a high-
pitched voice. Delilah stretched one long leg and lifted her head momentarily and said,
"I allow you to taste my beautiful long toenails, while I am enjoy to taste your cock."
Geoff grabbed her ankle and sucked and licked her long, red toenails with abandon, and
in a few moments he came like a tidal wave. Delilah kept slowly sucking, licking and
swallowing until he was completely soft again. "Sweet God! What the hell was that?!"
Geoff exclaimed, wheezing hard to catch his breath. "It was my surprise to you," Delilah
said in a tiny, sweet voice. "I thought we were going to make love!" he cried. "We will,
my sweet one," she said, reassuringly, stroking his cheeks with her long fingernails. She
lay down on her back and pulled his arm around her and scratched it up and down, and
also scratched her long toenails up and down his shin. Even though it was too soon for
him to get hard again, he felt his dick wanting to respond. "When we can be married?"
she asked softly. Geoff raised his head and looked at her with exasperation. "Well, first
we need to get blood tests and a marriage license, and then have someone perform the
ceremony….at least a couple weeks I guess," he said. "Two weeks?" Delilah said with
disappointment, "Oh, it is shame we must to wait. Because I am so want to make
amazing love together with you." She kissed him softly on his lips. She put her toes
under his balls and tickled them with her long toenails at the same time she played with
his dick with her long fingernails. "I want so much scratch you very sexy way with my
beautiful long nails and toenails while I got your cock deep, deep inside of me" she
purred. Geoff jumped off the bed. "Where you go?" Delilah asked with concern. "Ill
be right back. Dont move," he told her. He returned in a few minutes. "Throw some
clothes in a bag," he said, pulling his leather duffle from under the bed and shoveling
some underwear and socks and his shaving kit into it, "I booked us nonstops to Las
Vegas later this afternoon. Well be there by six, Vegas time, and married before the day
is over." Delilah threw her arms around Geoff and kissed him with passion. "Before, we
must stop again at mall," she said. "What for?" Geoff asked. "It is only engagement
ring," she said, holding up her hand, "Now I will need wedding ring." "We dont have a
lot of time," Geoff warned. "Is no problem. I already know exactly one I want," she
smiled. "Of course you do," Geoff smiled. "Of course I do," Delilah repeated, smiling,
stroking her sexy two-inch fingernails slowly along his cheek.
-
AN UNEXPECTED TREAT
AN UNEXPECTED TREAT
As a result of my early exposure to them, I have a fascination for long female
toenails as well as fingernails. Thick, misshapen, twisted bear-claws on
ageing, calloused feet attached to thick ankles and legs repulse me as much as
they repulse the majority of the earth's population. Plump toes with short
nail-beds and upturned nails don't lend themselves to aesthetic toenail growth
in my opinion either. But slender young (or at least young-looking) women with
shapely legs, ankles, feet and toes with long nail-beds, who have even a modest
display of toenail growth, do indeed excite me. In my life's travels I've found
the most appealing toenails on women who simply trim them infrequently out of
laziness, rather than those who've purposefully grown them. Certainly until
very recently the latter were nearly impossible to find, whereas laziness to cut
one's toenails, whilst predominantly a male attribute, does afflict a decent
proportion of young ladies as well.
One particularly memorable example, when I was in my early teens one of my Mum's
friends brought her troublesome, rebellious daughter Didi, who was around 15 or
16, to our flat whilst she and Mum had tea. Her mum sent Didi to the back room
to do her school-work where I was already likewise occupied. I was sitting on
the davenport when Didi plodded in in her boots and, spying me on the davenport
cast me a contemptuous look and sat herself down on the rug across the room.
After while she became uncomfortable in her heavy boots and with great effort
she pulled them off. As her boots came free of her feet, her socks came off in
the boots. Then she sat down with her legs under her, crossed at
the ankles. Her bare soles faced toward me and what initially was to be a quick
glance turned in-to a protracted stare, as I could see even from a couple of
meters off that the undersides of her toenails extended well past her toes.
I was lost in the fascination of that sight when, perhaps feeling my stare, Didi
suddenly turned round and looked me in the eye, then her gaze travelled down and
I quickly placed my school-book in my lap to hide my 'excitement' which I
suddenly realised was unmistakably evident. Of course she saw that, not to
mention my obvious and clumsy attempt at covering it up. Her jaw dropped and
she put her hands on her hips and said "Oh my God, have you been staring at my
arse, you little sh*t?"
"Such a little perverted bastard!" she exclaimed. I chuckled to myself, thinking
what she'd have thought if she knew what had actually caught my fancy.
Ostensibly so as to inhibit me from looking at her derriere, she came over and
sat at the opposite end of the davenport with her back to the arm. She then
outstretched her legs in my direction and placed both of her feet against my
thigh and snipped "I haven't cut my toenails all winter. Have a look, that
should deflate your little winky". Her feet were absolutely stunning. Her toes
were slender and her toenails were narrow and they were arched side-to-side
rather than flat, and the beds were rather long. The clear white tips that had
grown out were half again the length of the nail-beds! She wiggled her toes and
gripped my thigh and scraped her long, white toenails against my trousers. Her
fingernails were bitten short, so her long toenails were the result of laziness
to cut them during the winter months when few people would see her toes. I
would've thought that being constricted in-side closed boots would've been more
of a reason to keep them short, but Didi was an odd sort in many ways.
Thankfully her Mum beckoned her to leave just then, because I don't think I
could've taken another few seconds without doing something that would have
revealed my secret.
-
Angela M
I came into the lunchroom and sat next to Angela. There was a large table in the middle of the sunlit room, and a few other bits and pieces at the sides, and a coffee machine on the side bench next to the metal sink. Angela was eating a peach from the fresh produce department, where she works. I could never understand, with the heavy stuff that has to be done in the fruit stands, how her nails were still an inch long. what's more, they were all an inch long, and in the 10 weeks I have worked in this store, I have never seen her nails break, get shorter, or change shape.
Her slightly curving nails were always nicely manicured, either in french or clear polish. sometimes I would think that there was polish when in fact her nails were so white it really looked like she had a french manicure. Today, her nails were painted red, the same colour as her sensual lips. Luckily, there was nobody about so it is probably easier for me to ask and compliment her about her nails.
"Hey" she greeted
"Oh, hey, how are you?" she nodded as she continued eating the peach. Her beautiful inch long red fingernails were wrapped around the fruit like a protective cover. My voice started to shake as I stared at them, reflecting back a reddish glow.
"M-m-m good-d"
"Are you alright, Chris?" she asked, looking like she was wondering what I was doing.
"Y-yes, I'm Ok." she cocked her eyebrow but kept eating her peach. I kept staring at her beautiful fingernails, rounded at the ends, but it was clearly razor sharp at the edges.
"How long does it take you to grow nails like those?" I asked.
"Huh? Oh, my nails? oh, a few weeks, at the most."
"Wow. are they real?" I stole a glance at her incredible fingernails and then looked at her.
"Yeah, of course!"
"They must be pretty strong to stay that long working where you are"
"Yep. They're really strong, even without nail polish"
"Wow. You know, with nails like those you could probably rip apart that peach if you really wanted to"
"Hmm.... never really tried that one yet"
"Oh, OK. It's just that your nails looked really strong, that's all"
"Do you like them?"
"Y-yep, they look really good" Angela spread her hands on the table, extending each nail to its full inch of growth, like a cat extends its claws. They were all absolutely beautiful, and looked absolutely rock hard and incredibly strong.
"Don't you usually have a french manicure on them" Angela looked at me with a smile.
"You know, you're probably the first person who's noticed that I actually have long nails around here"
"sorry about that" I recoilled in embarrassment"
"No, no, it's OK" she shook her head, as if to reassure me. "You're the first one who's really paid that much attention to them" she said, examining her fingernails closely. They absolutely took my breath away
"You know, no that you mention it, I think they are pretty strong how they've lasted this long with breaking"
"yeah, I know. You know just for fun, you could probably test how strong they are by trying to tear apart some fruits where you work"
"No way! i'll get into so much trouble"
"Ooh, yeah, you know, you're right. They're very nice, though"
"Thanks" she said, almost blushing. After she finished the peach, she got up and shot the peach into the bin as she walked out. I watched her walk off, dangling her incredibletalons by her sides, looking so strong and razor sharp, ready to destroy anything she wanted to. I didn't see Angela until the next day. This time she had absolutely no polish at all, but her nails still looked so strong, and so razor sharp. She actually filed them into a square shape, pointed at the edges, and they were now about 3/4 of an inch long, which was a little disappointing, but they still looked super strong. I waved to her and she waved back, smiling.
I went to work as I thought about how sharp her nails must have been, and I could almost imagine her sinking her talons into potatoes, apples, bananas and melons, just to entertain herself from the long, dull hours of work. I managed to get a break after a little while and I went over to the fruit section. There wasn't anyone there so I looked out in the back section where the fruits were being stored. I saw her, working by herself, with her apron on the front of her white shirt and a red hat on her head. I walked up to her.
"Hey" I greeted
"Oh, hello" she said, surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"Oh, just wondering around on my break"
"Oh" she said "What bring you here?" she kept working at her boxes, stacking them on top of each other. I was watching her clear fingernails, shining in the light, looking dangerous.
"Just wanted someone to talk to. No one really in the tea room"
"Oh, OK" she said "how's your day been, by the way?"
"Oh, pretty good" I replied. I looked around the store room. All the vegetables were stacked in the boxes. I could just imagine her fingernails digging through all these vegetables and fruits.
"Oh, by the way, I tried it last night"
"Tried what?" I asked, curious.
"Digging my nails into fruits" she said, not breaking a stride. I could hardly believe my ears.
"I tore apart a peach yesterday. I thought it was too easy, so I tried it with bananas" I was starting to get all hot and flustered. I couldn't believe she said it all so casually, without a care in the world.
"W-what happened with the bananas?" I asked, my voice starting to tremble
"It was harder, but once I sliced off the skin with my nails, the flesh was just so easy to slice off" She sounded like she didn't even care what happened to those hapless fruits.
"Wow............ you've filed your nails square too, I see."
"Yeah, I thought they look a little bit better than when they're rounded"
"Would have made a difference when you were trying to dig your nails in"
"Nah....... still the same. I filed it really square so I could slice through the banana skin. After that, I just ripped into the banana flesh which was just so easy"
"Have you tried it with apples yet?" she took off her hat and ran her fingers through her hair. Her fingernails looked so strong as they parted her straight, brown hair. it finished just past her shoulders. She then turned to me, examining her fingernails.
"Nah, not really. I'll probably break them after that"
"Yeah, oh, well" she gave me a smile and then got back to work. I couldn't believe the carefree attitude she had with talking about her nails. I thought she wouldn't pay much attention to them, but obviously she did. I started walking off, but I heard her doing something. It sounded like she was digging her nails into something. I turned around and saw her sitting down on a sack of washed potatoes. She had torn a hole in the sack and was just starting to dig her all her left hand nails into a potato. I could not believe how strong her nails were. Even her pinky nail was starting to dig in, testament to the brutal power and sharpness of her nails.
"Oh, my GOD!" I exclaimed, staring at her nails, which were by now halfway through the potato.
"Gosh, how strong are my nails?!" she exlaimed. Her nails had dug in, almost up to her fingertips. I couldn't believe how far she had dug into the potato. She looked at me as she held up the potato. She wasn't even touching the potato with her fingers. Her unpolished fingernails were holding it up.
"D-do you think you can d-d-dig your nails all the way through?" I asked, almost overcome. My throat was absolutely dry. Angela looked intently at the potato, seemingly concentrating at it. After a moment she started to squeeze, and I heard the familiar sound of the potato flesh being sliced apart as her nails dug deeper and deeper into it. finally, her talons had sunk all the way through, right up to her fingertips.
"Oh, my gosh, Angela, what are you doing?"
"Oh, nothing, just entertaining myself" she winked. "I never really thought my nails were this strong"
"Gosh, neither did I"
"Yeah, I mean, I've never really broken a nail yet, but I assumed that that was because I never did anything"
"What about this job?" I asked.
"Hmm.... " she thought to herself "Well, I guess I have scapped a few styrofoam boxes with my nails already, but I didn't think much of it"
"You scratched styrofoam boxes as well?" I asked, my heart pounding with anticipation.
"See that box next to you?" I looked around, and sure enough, there was a box next to me. on one of the sides, I could see that there were 3 deep lacerations, and the top of the box was actually torn off. I examined the 3 deep grooves and wondered how strong her nails must be to tear themselves these grooves, and then rip off the top half of this side of the box.
"I dropped it by accident and tried to catch it, but I couldn't hold it" she said, looking mockingly sad that her nails had done all this damage. I didn't want to leave, but as my watch was going through, ticking over to my time of finishing my break, I got a little nervous.
"I have to go" I said, biting my lip "incredibly powerful fingernails you have there"
"How long do you have?" I looked at my watch
"about 2 minutes"
"OK" she said. "I guess I can show you later"
"What?" I asked
"Well........ I was going to see if I could rip apart this potato with my nails, that's all............ that is, if you're interested" she said, looking at me as if she knew something I didn't. My throat dried up.
"I-I thought your nails were going to break?"
"Actually, now that I've seen what I just did with the potato, I just wanted to see how much stress my nails could take before they broke"
"O-oh" I managed to whimper out.
"So are you going to watch me use my nails?" I sat down in front of her, as if to get a front seat view. I put my head on my hands
"I think this'll be worth getting into trouble over" Angela smiled and then lined her right hand nails on the skin of the potato. I watched the concentration on her face as she paused for a moment to get ready, and then without any glitches she casually started to sink her right hand nails near where her other nails wer buried
"Gosh, how strong are your nails, Angela?"
"I wanted to find out how strong they are" she said as she continued sinking her talons into the potato. The crunching sound the potato made was testament to the power of her incredibly strong fingernails. I looked at my watch "You have one and a half minutes to rip this sucker to shreds"
"I know, I'll get it done" she said, almost smiling. Her nails continued to sink through, until all 10 of her fingernails were buried in the potato Only her fingertips were showing.
She was breathing heavily when she suddenly started to pull apart on her fingers. with my heart thumping on my chest I saw a little crack appear on the potato as Angela kept pulling more and more. In a few more moments, I could see her nails pressing against the potato flesh, ripping it apart with such strength. I could hardly believe my eyes as her incredibly strong fingernails was tearing the potato apart. In less than 30 seconds more, she had just about torn apart the potato tugging at her nails, as the last of the potato skin was ripped off. She held the two pieces of the potato in each of her hands, staring at the pieces of potato she had just ripped apart with her incredibly strong fingernails. She started tapping her left hand nails into the potato flesh, gouging little holes on the already torn flesh.
"Gosh, my nails were a lot stronger than I thought" she said, staring at me. " a LOT stronger"
.
"I've really got to go, Angela" She smiled at me and dug her left hand nails all the way through again into the potato, staring at me all the time. the potato broke apart into 2 pieces again. I could see the potato juice starting to ooze down her hands and nails
"I know" she said. She then threw me the piece of the potato. I examined it for the moment. It had half crescent grooves and lacerated all the way through. "Can you come meet me after work, Chris?"
"OK, if you wanted to, I'll come"
"You'd better" she said, with a mean grin on her face as she flicked her thumb and index nail. "My nails need something to tear apart" she said in a mischeivous tone. I could only anticipate with awe and excitement as I went back to work, what she would do with those incredibly strong fingernails.
-
astory
I had known her since we were in high school. Her name was Amy. She was so hot back then. I was just one of the many guys who dreamt of spending time with her. However I was attracted to something that most of the other guys weren't, I was infatuated with her long fingernails.
This was before the acrylic nails came along and she kept hers over a half inch long, past the fingertip. For a high school girl this was unique back then and hers were always that long. I had a few classes with her during our high school stay, and though I wouldn't say that I was a close friend, I would say that we were friends. I longed to get to know her better but she was a goddess and I was just a guy.
Well, high school ended, everybody went their separate ways and the last I heard she had married her college sweetheart, the quarterback of course. Meanwhile, I found a nice girl and got married too. Well, to make a long story short, my marriage failed because I eventually told her of my love of long nails and she thought it too weird to get turned on by long fingernails. Plus she turned out to be a real bitch.
I went to my ten year reunion, and there she was, as beautiful as ever and she was with her all American hubby. But my heart sank when I saw her hands, gone were those magnificent nails and though not stubs, there was no length at all. My fantasy girl was gone.
I was devastated, the only reason I had come there was to maybe get to see her and her magnificent nails. I was preparing to leave when she appeared as if out of nowhere and said hi. I was so surprised that she remembered my name, and I could feel my face glowing as she gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
We talked some and I got the feeling that she wasn't happy in her marriage. I wondered why she was telling me this. But as I gazed into her eyes I didn't care if she was speaking Greek. We talked quite a bit and exchanged phone numbers and I figured I'd see her at the next reunion.
Almost a year went by and then one day I saw her in a hospital emergency room. I had cut my hand and she was there because her macho husband had kind of beat her up. I didn't want to pry but she kind of spilled her guts telling me that they had been getting further apart for a couple of years and this was the final straw. He had hit her because she had let her nails grow out a bit and had accidentally scratched him, drawing blood. When all was said and done, she had drawn a lot of blood, he had clipped her nails, slapped her around and the police took him to jail.
All I could think about was the fact that she had let her nails grow back out. We talked some, and I guess I kind of was her shoulder to cry on and ended up dating, after her divorce. Eventually she moved in with me and it got quite serious. But we never talked about her nails. I was too afraid to mention them for fear of what happened with my first wife, and she seemed to be in no big hurry to grow them out.
I mentioned long nails to her a couple of times and she said they get on them at work if they have long fingernails. Not wanting to push the subject I just dropped it. Eventually, things started to grow a bit cooler, and I wondered how long it would be before she dumped me.
I was working some weird hours and had to go in late one night, but on my way I realized that I had forgotten my wallet. So I returned home and walked in the bedroom startling her. Had I not been a long nail fanatic, I probably wouldn't have noticed her nails as she tried to hid them behind her back? But I am and there was no mistaking serious fingernails disappearing behind her back.
I felt my heart beating faster. I asked her what was wrong and she said nothing, still holding her hands behind her back. I walked over to her and asked to see her hands. Reluctantly she held out her hands revealing two inch curving artificial fingernails. She began to try to explain and apologize, but I cut her short and told her that I had no problem with long fingernails.
She said, "Really?"
I replied with a big grin, "No way, in fact, I love them, they really turn me on."
"You're just saying that."
I took her hands in mine and said, "I just wish you knew how much long fingernails turn me on."
She was confused, "But I just figured that you felt the same way as my first husband, that's why I don't keep them long anymore."
At that point I told her how much I loved them and how I was disappointed the first time I saw her without them. She told me how much she missed having them long. Like part of her was missing, but she didn't want to alienate me like she had done he husband.
At that point we both agreed not to keep any secrets, especially about long nails. She removed the phony nails and began to grow her own out.
I was amazed at how quickly her nails grew. And they were very strong.
I asked her how come they grew so fast and she giggled and said she had her own little secret. That was enough for me, as they were three quarters of an inch past the tip of her finger now.
And oh how she loved to use them. When we made love, she would rake my back and shoulders over and over. Always asking me if I liked that as much as she liked clawing at me. My response was always a resounding yes.
Then one day I came home and she was sitting there, and I could tell that she had been crying. I asked her why and she said they had told her at work to choose her nails or her job. I was about to tell her that I was behind her if her whatever she chose when she told me that she had quit. She also said to emphasize her quitting she had raked her bosses face with her nails, drawing blood and possibly needing stitches.
Then she got an almost evil look on her face and said how really excited it had gotten her doing that. Before I knew it she attacked me almost like a wildcat and we had what I can only describe as animal sex. She clawed me to pieces as we did it over and over.
I was bleeding in several places and several times wanted to take a break but she would dig her nails into me somewhere and it would get me excited again and there we'd go again. It was hurting me so bad, but that seemed to arouse me more, and she was getting off digging her nails into my flesh. I found myself wondering how something so painful could get me so excited. Finally I passed out from exhaustion.
I awoke sometime later and she was gone, but there was a note with a jar of some kind of ointment. The note said to spread the ointment onto the scratches. So I did and it soothed them and within hours most had almost healed up. They were however still a bit tender. I wondered where she had gone and how she had enough energy to even leave. I was completely drained. So I went back to sleep.
I woke up several hours later and she was there asleep. She moved and I noticed her nails, they were no longer an inch long, hey were closed to an inch and a half. I felt them and inspected them there in the dark and they were hers. Not artificial. But how could that be, they had been an inch long only hours before. And now they almost came to a point. I thought about her clawing at me with these and was sure id need stitches, but part of me wanted to give it a try.
As she laid there, I was drawn to her nails, I couldn't take my eyes off of them. A couple of times I could have sworn that I saw them grow in front of my eyes. But I assured myself that it was my imagination.
Looking at them and her hot body was getting me aroused, but I was still sore form our earlier time together. Finally I made myself go to sleep. But I dreamt of making love to her.
When I awoke, she was not in bed, and most of the scratches had almost disappeared, thanks to the ointment. But I still had some tender spots. I wondered where she had run off to, she no longer had a job, and I was hoping for a repeat performance, painful though it be.
The next few weeks seemed to be much of the same, passionate animal sex, and her disappearing for long periods of time. Always coming home with longer and seemingly stronger nails. At this point they were three inches long and curved to almost a needlepoint. She clawed me up pretty good a couple of times, but the ointment always seemed to work miracles, especially if I applied it to myself before we got busy.
I was really getting annoyed at the long absences and when I'd try to talk to her she would change the subject or just ignore me. We never seemed to talk anymore. At one point I kind of demanded that she tell me where she had been and she grabbed my face in her clawed hand and while digging her nails into my flesh told me to mine my own business. Then as she removed her hand from my face she drew her nails down my cheeks, slicing four three inch gashes on one cheek and one five inch one on the other cheek from her thumbnail, slicing and going from my ear to under my chin.
The blood started flowing and even with the ointment I had a hard time stopping the bleeding. Especially the thumbnail gash which was particularly deep. She seemed to hardly notice my pain and bleeding as she got dressed and left. I was both pissed off and hurt, pissed because she had cut me so bad and ignored me, and hurt because she didn't seem to care.
It was at this point that I decided to find out where she had been disappearing to. She was getting phone calls a lot so I had Caller, ID hooked up and shortly thereafter found that all her calls were from a beauty salon across town, near where we had gone to high school.
Once I found this out, I didn't have to follow her, I just left before she did and was there when she arrived. I hid near a building next door and watched as she and several other women with very long nails entered through the rear door. I noticed as the door was closing, that they headed immediately down some stairs, to the basement.
It got darker and the ladies quit arriving so I made my way to one of the windows. The window was covered from the inside but whatever they had used had slipped down some and there was a crack for me to see in through. There were maybe six or seven women in there all with very very long fingernails. I didn't know whether to get excited or run screaming into the night.
I chose to lie there and get excited watching these women take care of their nails. They soaked them in something for a while then they would stick them in what looked to be some kind of cream. Then they'd wipe them off and paint them with some kind of clear liquid. I don't know what any of the stuff was but I do know that their nails were all very strong. They would try to bend them and they would bent a bit but never broke.
Then they filed them and painted them. They were sharp. They would try them out on things after they finished, like fruit, cloth, and even wood. A couple of the women actually scratched chunks out of a piece of a board, and then shredded cloth like they were using razor knives. I got cold chills as well as excited feeling as I watched.
Once they all seemed to be finished preparing their nails, I figured they would leave, but they hung around and shortly thereafter an older woman with even longer nails came into view. Hers were easily five inches long and gleamed with a silvery glow. She stood there for a second and then began to speak, I could not hear her but she was very animated using her long taloned hands. I was sure she was going to accidentally cut herself.
She finally finished and two of the women rolled in a hospital type gurney with a youngish girl strapped to it. Judging by the way she was dressed I figured her to be a hooker. The older woman then sliced the girls clothes off, leaving her there naked. She fondled the girls body some, being careful not to scratch her.
Then she shook the girl to awaken her and the girl woke with a start.
Immediately she began to struggle, and the old woman reached behind her and dipped her five inch index fingernail into some liquid. Then slowly dug her needle pointed nail into the girls head below the ear and seconds later the girl was quiet, though still conscious. Her eyes were racing from side to side in terror.
The old woman threw off her robe, revealing her wrinkled old naked body. She then fondled the young girls body some more and stopped with one hand on the girls head and the other on her chest. Then slowly she began to apply pressure with her five inch needlepointed nails both on her head, and chest, over her heart. The skin seemed to fight for a second but then gave way to her sharp claws. Then ever so slowly as if she were savoring the feeling, the old woman sunk her nails into the girls chest and the base of her skull. Blood trickled from all ten wounds and the girls eyes were racing as she felt the pain, but could not move.
After an eternity the old woman's five inch nails were dug completely inside the girls head and chest, and she arched her back in pain. The old woman threw her head back and just held it there while the girl seemed to struggle a bit. When the old woman's head came forward her face looked to be that of a twenty year old. Then slowly and she held her nails inside the young girl, her body began to change, becoming younger in front of my eyes. Meanwhile the girls body began to age. Within seconds she was an old woman and the old woman was young. It was if she sucked the youth out of the girl through her nails.
She held them inside the girls body even after it was apparent that the girl was dead. Finally she removed her claws from the girl and as soon as she did, she began to age. But she stopped well short of an old lady. She appeared to be early forties now. She fondled her own body now and the other women came up and seemed to congratulate her.
She took my Amy by the arm and pulled her to the decreped body of the young girl. She pointed and Amy kind of hesitated. She pushed her on the shoulder and the others seemed to offer encouragement. Finally, my Amy, my lover, my dream girl, sank her three inch needlepointed fingernails into the dead girls chest and seeming to slice through bone and flesh removed what was left of the girls heart. I was almost sick, but had to keep watching, because it aroused me as well.
Then the other women started clawing at the body as well, shredding flesh and slicing through bones, until all that was left was a bloody mess.
Then one of the dumped the remains into a tub of liquid and it seemed to dissolve. It turned me on so much that I hadn't thought about what they might do to me if they found me out here. It was beginning to soak in now. I had just witnessed a murder, and although it seemed to turn me on, they probably wouldn't hesitate to shred me up as well.
I quietly slid away from the window and made my way away from the building. I went very slowly so as not to make any noise, although my thoughts were begging me to run. I kept looking over my shoulder checking to make sure I wasn't being followed, but there was no one. I was just about to my car and figured to be safe when I ran smack dab into Amy.
To be continued
-
Bethany Gets Afro-Sheened Ch. 06
A freshened Bethany sat on the couch watching TV awaiting Foley's return from the bowling alley. She'd spent the last hour and a half bathing and preening herself up for her black lover. She was meticulous about her grooming, as her fellow classmates at high school knew all too well. She managed to wash the cum out of her hair and combed it back to life even though she didn't have all her beauty aids with her.
At eighteen, she didn't need much work at the vanity mirror to get men's attention, yet she painstakingly applied her makeup, taking nothing for granted. Foley was due back around 10:30 and she didn't want him to become bored with her. She absolutely loved getting blacked and simply adored servicing Foley's brazen black throat plunger.
Earlier she had downed two copious loads, one offered by Foley and one donated by his bowling partner--a black man whose face she had never even seen. It was such a nasty session--getting face-fucked to oblivion while wearing a blindfold and then eating the stranger's massive cum wad. Just thinking about it caused her pussy to tingle.
While waiting, she decided to pass the time by changing the lacquer color on her long sensuous nails. Retrieving a bottle of polish remover from her purse, she began the mundane task. As the television played, she wiped off all the blood red shade and re-painted them a slick silvery pearl. Manicured to perfection, they proudly shimmered with elegance as she shook them in the air to dry.
It was now 11:30 and Bethany had fallen asleep on the couch to some lame MTV program waiting for Foley. When he walked in at around 12:15, he found her in her lacy bra and panties, curled up on the couch. He tenderly picked her up in his arms and quietly brought her into the bedroom and tossed her on the bed. She was startled awake in a bouncy rebound as Foley laughed, enjoying the view of her huge knockers bobbling in the fall.
"You bastard!" she shouted. But before she could protest any more, he dove between her legs, removed her panties and began sucking her sweet young cunt.
His experienced tongue lightly circled her clit as her breath and heartbeat slowly increased in response. Using two fingers to probe her fleshy folds, he continued to lap and suck her teenage essence. As she became wet, he pushed his fingers in her while teasing her clit with the tip of his tongue. Her hips rose off the bed and she began to gush, forcefully shooting her womanly fluids out, soaking the bed sheets and moaning uninhibitedly. He manically rubbed her pussy and she came again and again until, squirting as she cried out, "No more, no more..." When her breath returned to normal she thanked Foley for the best orgasm she ever had.
Now on his back, she crouched over his thighs while facing him and began massaging his manhood. "Even though you made me wait so long tonight, I'm going to treat you a special hand job because you made me cum so fucking hard," she said and firmly clutched his huge black nuts with one hand while raking his shaft with the long slivery talons of her other.
"Ooooo, that feels good. I loves bein' in yo' hands..." Foley exclaimed. Knowing he liked the feel of her nails on his cock and balls from previous encounters, Bethany made his black demon grow uncontrollably hard with her practiced manipulation. As she continued to "torture" his pleasure giver by digging polished claws into his most sensitive flesh, she'd sometimes pinch the thin skin at the underside of his pole and tug or roll it between her fingers; other times she'd scratch up the entire length then firmly sink her nails unexpectedly into him until his cock twitched.
When she began stimulating his balls with very aggressive tickling, he nearly went over the edge and grabbed her arm to stop. Concerned, she released her grip on him. Bethany removed her bra and as he instinctively reached to caress her huge soft orbs of delight, she quickly wrapped her bra tightly around his wrists, tying them.
"Wha'up wit' dat?" he questioned.
"Just relax," Bethany said and bent his arms back into his chest, "and enjoy." Soon enough her nails were back into his defenseless flesh, showing no "mercy."
"You like how my nails feel?"
"Oh, yeah. Dey really make me hard. I wanna cums so bad."
"Good." She deliberately dragged them slowly and deeply up and down his spongy shaft, causing him to moan and squirm in ecstasy. His pre-cum had oozed out and she used it to moisten her fingertips as a natural lubricant. She teased him relentlessly, often slowing her technique just as he was about to reach new heights.
As we all know, Bethany was the type of girl who always took the time look her best in every way. Her allure was something she treasured. From styled hair, perfectly applied make-up, fashionable clothes, sexy shoes, to her exquisitely manicured fingernails. Most men probably didn't even bother looking at a girl's nails, yet she was proud of her inch and a halfers. Now she thought she might have figured out why so many women donned long nails. And she was eager to test her theory.
Bethany was going to treat him to her inaugural "nail job."
Foley grew impatient. He knew he was fortunate to have a sweet young white slut like Bethany at his disposal and yet he couldn't help acting like she was more trouble than she was worth. "Come, bitch, let's get this fucker off, I ain't gots all night!"
"Hang in there Foley, you'll nut when I'm ready for you to nut," she said, enjoying the control she held over him and took his aching cock in one hand while tugging on his huge sack with the other. Then she wrapped her left hand around the base of his shaft while her index finger of her right hand rubbed his pee-hole. She teased it by gently scratching the slit with her nail. The mushroom head reacted, swelled and produced a tear of pre-cum. Then she tapped the shaft with the nails of her left hand and it grew even more. She laid his cock against his belly and dug her nails into its underside. She pinched certain areas and he deeply groaned, "Ohhh that's a girl..."
Pre-cum seeped out like never before and she had difficulty holding back the urge to lap up the sweet-tasting secretion. But this was a nail job and she wanted to get him off without using her mouth. For about ten minutes she continued her technique of scratching, pinching, clawing and massaging his helpless black monster until he could barely stand it any longer.
Now ready to send him over the edge, she began jerking him off with her left hand while her index finger of her right hand again poked around his cock slit. He was close. She made the "thumbs down" sign with her right hand, held it directly over his raging hard-on and slowly brought her thumbnail toward the slit, matching its horizontal position.
"Ho now, watcha doin' bitch!" Foley cried out, grabbing her fist.
"Trust me lover, I wouldn't dare think of injuring you. Not this precious black cock that has given me so much pleasure. I'll be careful."
She momentarily stopped jerking him off so she could carefully insert the tip of her thumbnail into the slit of his cock. She worked it in about a quarter inch. The cock jumped up like it wanted to take off. Holding her nail securing in him, she began stroking him off again. Foley was writhing in pleasure until it became too much for him.
"Arrrghhh!!!" he screamed, pushing her hands off his pride and joy. She freed his tied wrists. He grabbed his throbbing cock and whacked off, splattering thick gobs of semen on her smiling face. His cum splashed across her cheeks like sleet crashing on a windshield. Wave after wave spewed forth on her nose, forehead, eyes, and lips until that gorgeous white face was completely decorated in it. It was his masterpiece, as never before had he had an orgasm like the one young Bethany just conjured up for him. Never before had he squirted out so much cum.
So thick was his discharge that it remained frozen on her glistening face like frosting. She felt so alive and confident, proud that her new technique was a success. She was so pleased being a canvas for his cum that she got off the bed and walked over to a mirror by the door. "My Lord, Foley, what a humongous load! My entire face is covered. I look like I've been hit in the face with a cream pie! You're a fucking artist. I sure hope you enjoyed it. I can barely wait for you to 'paint' me again."
"Oh, I gotta feelin' I might have enjoyed it a little bit more, you little bitch," he said still catching his breath.
Bethany rubbed his spunk into all the pores and crevices of her angelic face with her fingers like it was a nutritious skin lotion. She was beginning to believe it made her face look creamier and smoother. As Foley quietly lay in bed, she meticulously sucked each of her sticky fingers clean of his prized goo--never one to waste a precious drop of his sperm.
Noticing his high-octane cock hadn't yet deflated, she got down off the bed and to her hands and knees on the floor. "Come on Foley, do me doggie while I'm still wet."
Foley jumped down behind her and rubbed his black joy stick in the inviting crack between her soft upturned globes of ass. He leaned over her, taking her fleshy breasts in his large workman's hands and gently squeezed them. She felt exquisite against his body. "Stick me, Foley, plow your big black cock in my pussy. Fucking ride me all night long!" Bethany demanded.
Foley leaned and whispered in her ear: "If I do, will yo' promises to do something for me?"
"Yes, yes. Anything you want, just give me every inch of your cock right fucking NOW!!!"
"Yo' gots it, bitch!" and Foley's cock slid in her dripping pussy like a thumb into a pursed mouth. He took her hair in both his hands and pulled it back taunt until she screamed. The dried cum on her face tingled and gently pulled on her skin. He rammed his mammoth snake into her with abandoned inhibition. Over and over his hard, vein-pulsating cock pounded her into black ecstasy. Their rampant fucking made a pfftt! pfftt! sound as his entire cock butted into her and his balls clashed against her muff. She was getting his full length and loving it.
This young white girl of eighteen years began cumming with such intensity, her sex juices expelled their way out around his manhood. She virtually exploded. If her pussy had a voice it would be screaming wordless delight.
Many mature women twice her age have never experienced the extreme heights of orgasms Bethany reached with Foley's black cock. Did she realize how fortunate she was to be privy to such pleasure? At such a youthful age, she probably didn't.
As Bethany panted in breathless waves of bliss, Foley closed in on his own orgasm. He stabbed his ten inches into her deepest, most private place and fired his hot eruption of male lava, filling her pussy to overflowing. She was down on her elbows, her cum-crusted face resting on the floor rug, as he massaged her breasts while emptying himself completely into her. She actually felt his sperm splash against the walls of her vagina and moaned softly, almost purring like a sated feline.
When he was content, he withdrew and sat at the edge of the bed. Bethany looked up and saw their mutual juices glistening on his still erect cock. It looked too sweet to pass up. She rose and squatted before his crotch. "May I be allowed clean up privileges?" she coyly asked. He nodded.
Opening wide, she slowly engulfed his black cock, stretching her lips down its length to his balls. Tightly wrapping them around its circumference, she carefully worked her way back to his cockhead, collecting their cum juices with her firm lips. It was by no means a mouthful, but it did have a tangy taste that was good enough to swallow. And then, still squatting before the seated janitor, Bethany squeezed the running cum out of her pussy into her hand. What she couldn't hold spilled to the floor. She did manage to get an entire palmful into her waiting mouth which she devilishly lapped up while staring into her fuck buddy's eyes.
Her tongue tidied up her hand and painstakingly licked each finger, crevice and nail until it was devoid of any spunk. "Now, what was it you wanted me to promise?" asked the curious cheerleader.
"Well, it's late now and we really should get some sleep. I'll tell yo' 'bout it in the mornin'."
"I can barely wait!" said the eager cum-slut and she shot up to the bathroom where she washed her sperm-dried face. Returning to the bedroom, she found Foley on his back fast asleep. She carefully and gently slipped in, rested her head in his chest and cradled his prized balls in her long-taloned hand.
When she woke to the six o'clock sunrise breaking through the curtains, they were in nearly the same position. The bed sheet had been kicked to the floor during the hot night. She could clearly see his naked body awash in morning rays of sunlight. He was rock hard. Unbelievable, she thought, does he wake every morning with a full hard-on? She reached to touch it and teased it a bit with her nails. It jumped and pulsed. Foley woke. "Careful girl, dat's a piss hard-on."
"A what?"
"After a night's sleep, sometimes mens find demselves hard but needin' to piss real bad first thing in the mornin'."
"Really? It looks so angry. Do you mind if I have a bit of a suck before I get ready for school?"
"Sure, be my fuckin' guest!"
Bethany took her sunrise surprise in her hand and slid her head down Foley's belly. His black spear unexpectedly sizzled to her touch. Admiring its magnificence in the sun's radiance, she smiled knowing this was the earliest time of day she had ever been with a cock. "This is certain to kill my morning breath..." she quipped and opened wide to accept the daybreak treat. Immediately she discovered the rank flavor his unwashed cock had from fucking her all night. Yet she stayed with it and licked its entirety, still spellbound from waking to a vibrant erection.
She cupped his huge balls firmly and slid up on her knees. Bobbing her head up and down, she turned "a bit of a suck" into a full-fledged blowjob show. She pumped it as she sucked and Foley's breath deepened. "Baby, I gots to pee real bad now. Let me gets up and go."
"Only if you'll let me assist you; I love being in its presence and watching it perform."
Foley quickly hobbled to the toilet with Bethany soon behind. He aimed is rigid member at the bowl, pushing it downward with the tips of his fingers. "May I?" asked Bethany, reaching her hand out toward his cock. He nodded and she wrapped her fingers around it, pointing it at the water. His piss fired out strong, steady, and pungent. She had done this for him once before and enjoyed it very much. The toilet water turned a golden-yellow as it splashed in making bubbles. She shook the last few drops off as the current waned.
He remained hard and Bethany fell to her knees still holding his irresistible cock. "I've got to have a mouthful," she pleaded, staring directly at the cock eye. "It's too tempting not to kiss it and suck...hummmmph..." and Bethany just engulfed it again right there in the bathroom. She'd sucked him off so many times one would think she might have tired of it. Nevertheless, she remained enamored to it, a slave for its delicious emissions of potent black man juice.
"Lover, I don't have a lot of time, so could you nut off quick and give me my mouthwash," she suggested as she lapped his balls, "jerk it off for me, baby." She sat back and played with her tits, putting on a titty show for him. He pistoned his own cock with his hand and soon enough pre-cum began to string down the head. Bethany caught the string with her tongue and twirled it around to capture it all.
She looked up into the ugly and bumpy face of her black fuck buddy and smiled, pursing her lips, making lewd motions with her tongue. "Give me my cum! Cum for my baby--shot it in my dirty slut mouth!"
Foley stopped pumping for a second, brought the head of his labored cock to her outstretched tongue and delivered her request. The head swelled and fired six mammoth loads of fresh nut cream into her mouth. She had to swallow them done quickly or risk losing them. "Mmmmmm, thank you lover. You made it worth getting out of bed this morning. I'm not going to brush my teeth today so I can have you on my breath again today at school."
-
Better than Sex
Better than Sex (by Warren)
I blame my thing for long nails on my cousin Tami. Well, maybe its genetic and I was
born with it, but Tami made me realize I had it. First of all I should point out me and
Tami are third-cousins, and also that shes just three weeks older than me. Tamis mom
was sixteen when Tami was born, and two years later she left Tami with my mom and
skipped out, so Tami grew up in my house. Tami was always kind of wild and crazy, and
very physical, in a playful way. One time, when we were like ten, she told me third
cousins are "kissing cousins" and she got me in a bear-hug and smothered me with kisses.
I squirmed out of her hug and wiped her kisses off and acted really grossed-out, and she
thought that was hysterically funny. So from then on, she started saying "Come here
Kissing Cousin," in this sing-song voice, I would run, she would chase me all over the
house until she got me cornered, and then she would smother me with kisses and laugh
hysterically. After a few more times like that, when she cornered me we ended up play-
wrestling on the carpet. We were both getting really carried away and going wild, but we
were both laughing hard. This was just before bedtime and I was wearing just short PJ
bottoms, and suddenly I started feeling like she was using a steel rake on me, and I
stopped laughing and we both stopped wrestling and sat there for a second. Then I
looked at myself and I had these ugly red tracks all over, some were even bleeding.
Thats when I noticed what I never paid attention to before, namely Tamis nails. Her
fingernails mustve been like a quarter-inch, mostly straight across but kind of uneven.
Even her toenails were kind of long, especially her big toes. "You really need to cut your
nails," I told her. She looked at them and shook her head and said, "Girls should have
long nails."
It was from that time on that I started looking at every girls hands, and it was always a
let-down if she didnt have long nails (which most of the time, they didnt). Meantime,
Tami would come into my room all the time and curl her fingers and toes like claws and
go, "Lets play Tarzan and the tiger" referring to the old movies where Tarzan gets in a
wrestling match with a tiger and gets all clawed-up. Then shed growl at me and bare her
teeth and pounce on me and wrestle me using her long sharp nails. If I had a shirt on, she
would always pull it out so she could get her nails on my bare skin. Even if I managed to
get both her wrists, there was still her sharp nails on her big toes to contend with. And
she was not above biting. As we got older and I got to be much stronger than her, I
could subdue her without too much trouble, but she would always start to cry, "Time out!
Youre hurting me!" and Id always let up on her. And then shed right away start
scratching the hell out of me some more. The weird thing is, even though it hurt I kind of
liked it when she "attacked" me.
By the time we were around fifteen, Tami had developed into a smoking hot young
woman. She was five-ten, she had long, well-shaped legs and all the right curves in all
the right places. She also grew her fingernails much longer, like about three-fourths of an
inch, and kept them shaped and polished, usually pink during the week for school, and
deep red on weekends. She also wore matching polish on her toenails even in the fall and
winter when she wore closed shoes, and it was sort of a thing with her that she still kept
the nails longer on her big toes. Around the house, Tami usually wore just her panties
and a size extra-large t-shirt that was pretty old and thin, so quite often her nipples were
very visible, and if she went near a window or a lamp, the silhouette of her naked body
was clearly seen. She still acted toward me the same as she did when we were kids, still
grabbing and tickling and hugging and kissing me. And, she would still wrestle me and
scratch me up with her long nails. Only now she was really strong and her nails were
really long and super sharp, and while it was just a game to her, for me it was a battle,
trying to will myself not to get aroused. I know I shouldve said something to her, but I
couldnt, because I felt so ashamed of myself. After all, it wasnt like she was trying to
arouse me. One time though, while we were wrestling around on the rug in the den, Tami
was on top of me trying to pin me, and she was trying to pin my hip down and I guess her
bare foot slipped down into my crotch, and my dick just stiffened up instantly. I thought
for sure she felt it but she just kept on wrestling so I figured she must not have noticed.
By the time we were about seventeen, I had a girlfriend in school and she even had long
nails, but she never scratched me. Matter of fact she rarely even touched me with them
because she was paranoid about chipping her polish. Tami also had a boyfriend, and we
just sort of stopped having those wrestling matches, which was a relief but also I couldnt
help but miss the way things were. Tami confided that her and her boyfriend werent
having sex. It made me happy that Tami was still a virgin, partly because at that time, I
was still a virgin too, but also partly because I probably still had a secret thing for her.
By the time high school graduation rolled around, me and Tami were both eighteen and
no longer virgins. My girlfriend dumped me the week before graduation because I
wasnt going on to college in the fall and she called me a loser, nevermind the fact that I
had a good job lined up and intended to go to community college at night as soon as I
saved up some cash. Tamis boyfriend got so wasted on graduation night he puked in
someones bushes and then passed out. So graduation night was kind of a bust, and me
and Tami ended up home around 2AM. We were hardly buzzed, but we couldnt sleep
and decided to get out of our formal wear and grab a bottle of Jack Daniels and some
beers and go watch TV down in the basement so we wouldnt wake the folks.
Tami took a cigarette out of her pack with her long nails, which were polished cherry red.
She lit it and took a deep drag and blew a cloud of smoke up in the air. "God, were
fucking pathetic," she said. We started doing shots-and-beers and pretty soon we were
both pretty buzzed, then Tami asked me if I had any weed, and I said yeah and so we got
high too. Tami rested her legs on mine and put her head on my shoulder. Then she said,
"Wanna play Tarzan and the tiger?" I laughed, "Oh right." She gave my shoulder a little
bite and lightly scratched her long red fingernails into my chest and said, "I mean it." I
looked at her like, are you serious? And then she said, "You used to love it. It used to
give you a boner." I mustve turned red as a beet. "You knew?" I said. "Yeah. Thats
kinda why I kept on doing it. Also it turned me on too," she said. Like I said, we were
both pretty drunk, and high, and we looked at each other and we stood up and I threw the
cushions on the floor and we got down on them and started wrestling. Tamis long nails
were all over me and she was getting really wild and scratching me pretty hard. Tami
was on top of me and she pulled her shirt up and started rubbing her tits against my bare
chest while raking her long fingernails up and down my arms and sides. Pretty soon she
sat up and pulled my shorts down. "Tami! Were cousins!" I said. "Third cousins," she
said, breathing really hard, "Kissing cousins." We started making out furiously.
Tami started rubbing her leg on my dick, which was standing straight up. I flipped her on
her back and she wriggled her panties off and wrapped her legs around me and dug her
nails into my back, trying to flip herself back on top. She bit my shoulder and dragged
her long nails over my back really hard and she laughed as I groaned from the pain.
Suddenly I could feel her legs relax, and she pulled my face to hers and gave me the
hottest kiss of my life. I tried to enter her but she stopped me. "Wait. I really want to,
but well, we are related even if its distant. Maybe we shouldnt go all the way. Ok?"
she said. What could I say except that it was ok? I mean, I wasnt going to force her.
Tami smiled and pushed my fingers into her pussy and she dug her fingernails into my
shoulders and sucked on my neck while she humped my hand. She was wild, and I could
feel her juices pouring over my fingers as she came, clawing and biting me until she
stopped orgasming. She just lay there with her eyes half-closed, with her tits rising and
falling to her heavy breathing. I started to get up. Tami grabbed my shoulders with her
long sharp fingernails and flipped me down on my back. She was still out of breath but
smiling from ear to ear. She gave me a soft kiss on my cheek and stroked one of her long
nails slowly down my neck, and she whispered, "Now its your turn."
Tami laid down next to me and started rubbing her arm against my dick very softly and
slowly. Every once in a while she would reach up and scratch my belly with her nails,
and then go back to rubbing my dick with her arm. She was driving me nuts, but I
figured any minute shed start jerking me off, so I just laid back and enjoyed it. Then she
started rubbing the back of her hand across my dick back and forth. That was making me
completely crazy, but then she started doing it with the back of her nails and that was
even better. I looked at her like, when are you gonna jerk me? "Tami?" I said out loud.
But she just ignored me. She circled her fingers around my hardon like she was going to
jerk me, but then she just moved her hand up and down without actually touching me.
She brought the tips of her nails up to my dick and pretended to scratch it, again but not
really touching me. She looked into my eyes and smiled and I could see she was really
enjoying herself. Then she looked at my dick and said in a girly sing-song voice, "Come
here Kissing Cousin," and she puckered her lips and leaned down and just barely kissed
the tip of my dick. Then she made little kisses all down my shaft and back up the other
side, at the same time she was fondling my balls with her fingernails. She was driving
me crazy but purposely stopping short of allowing me to cum. "Im good, arent I," she
bragged teasingly.
Tami then sat up and slid forward with her legs spread apart and her pussy right up to my
balls and started leaning forward rubbing her clit against the underside of my dick. She
put her feet against my sides to steady herself and she dug in with the long nails of her
big toes. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing very heavy. I could feel her hot
juices running down my balls. Suddenly she took a really deep breath and leaned way
forward and spread her hands on my chest and scratched me hard all the way back to my
crotch while she sat up and threw her head back as she came. Her body was glistening
with droplets of sweat and her tits were bouncing up and down with her heavy breathing.
She looked down at my hardon sticking up between her legs, and I was sure she was
going to jerk me off, but instead she just clasped it gently against her pussy with her hand
and started rubbing the top side of my shaft in little light circles with her fingers. Her
fingers were soft as silk, and she was driving me mad. I begged her to finish me off .
She still had her feet against my sides, and she started rubbing them against me and
scratching with her toenails. "Be patient. The endings gonna blow your mind," she
teased, slowly curving her fingers and making sure I was watching. Tami started to very,
very gently scratch my dick with her long red fingernails. Slowly, lightly, base to tip,
base to tip, over and over. I had never felt anything so erotic in my life. I didnt know
anything could feel that amazing. Gradually she started doing it a little faster, and then a
little harder. Faster and harder. I was so turned-on there was no pain, only incredible
pleasure. I felt myself boiling-up from every nerve in my body, and as I came it was like
fireworks and and a nuclear explosion rolled into one. I erupted like a volcano, and Tami
shrieked with delight. She scratched slower and lighter until I was completely limp,
letting me have every last second of pleasure from her nails. Then she laid down on top
of me and we both fell asleep.
Quite a few years have passed since that night. Tami and I each have had many
relationships, been married and divorced, and are now both remarried. But we live ten
minutes from each other and although weve never had intercourse, Tami still keeps her
nails very long and from time to time shell call me up and say, "Wanna come over and
play Tarzan and the tiger?" I cant ever refuse. For me its better than sex.
-
Captivating
Captivating…by Stryker
He had stopped at the bar on his way home from working late Friday evening. He was
exhausted, but she caught his attention the moment he saw her. She with the thick shag
of dark hair, and deep brown eyes with long, curling lashes. They exchanged smiles.
Then she lit a long, thin cigarette and inhaled with a sweep of her tongue. He detested
women who smoked, but this time was different. She held her cigarette with such superb
elegance between her slender fingers. Fingers with uncommonly-long oval-tipped
unpolished nails. He gestured at the empty stool next to her, and she smiled, so he came
over and sat down. He bought her a drink, and one more for himself. She went to light
another cigarette and accidentally dropped her lighter. He got off his stool and retrieved
it chivalrously. She thanked him with a smile and a toss of her thick dark hair which
seemed to fall perfectly back in place. He lit her cigarette, and she cupped his hands
with hers. He felt the light touch of her nails, so gentle and yet so sharp, and got a
sudden erection. She batted her thick, curling dark lashes and blew a slow stream of
smoke through pursed lips. He felt his pulse race and his face flush with warmth.
"Wh---what happened? Where am I?" he groaned, almost having to force the words
from his mouth. He blinked his eyes hard trying to shake off the thick fog that clouded
his vision and veiled the blurred outline of the person seated facing him. As details
became clearer he recognized the young woman he had been chatting up at the bar. He
could tell they were no longer at the bar, but rather in someones bedroom. A little girls
bedroom, it seemed from the huge stylized daisies painted on the walls, and the dolls and
stuffed animals posed neatly on the dresser. "Where are we?" he asked, still groggy.
"My room," she replied. Her voice was calm and velvety. "How did I get here?" he
asked. "I drugged you. I slipped something in your drink when you bent to pick up the
lighter I dropped," she responded candidly. "What for?" he asked, "I wouldve gone
home with you anyway." "I know," she said. "So then, why drug me?" he asked with a
look of intense curiosity. "Ive always wanted to," she replied. He frowned. Ignoring his
look, she spread her fingers in front of her lap as if to examine them. It compelled him
to follow her gaze, and the sight of her exquisite long fingernails made his trepidations
suddenly seem unimportant.
As he emerged more from his fog he realized he was seated on a little single four-poster
bed under a lace canopy. She was sitting facing him on the edge of the bed with her legs
off the side, and him against the headboard with his legs out in front…with his wrists
and ankles bound securely to the bedposts with red-and-white striped knee socks the sort
young girls wear. "I didnt have you pegged for this sort of thing," he said with a smile
and a little laugh, pulling half-heartedly at his binds. "I intended you not to," she said
with a subtle arch of her dark, sculpted brows, and she stretched with a fluid grace that
was sublimely feminine. "So, what exactly do you intend to…?" he began asking. She
ran her fingers quickly through her thick, dark hair and as it fell perfectly back into place
she declared, "I know my nails arouse you sexually." Blindsided by her blunt revelation
of what he thought he had been successfully disguising, he blushed with embarrassment
and began to stammer. Modeling her hands and gazing at them with unashamed
adoration she explained, "I intend to find out how much."
She slid closer to him and gently loosened his tie and with her long nails deftly
unfastened the top button of his shirt. She placed her left palm against his right cheek
and turned her face into the left side of his neck, where she then licked the tip of her
tongue slowly upward and behind his ear. The warm, wet caress sent electricity coursing
straight to his dick which hardened instantly, and he mumbled his approval. He felt the
panting of her warm breath inside his ear an instant before she swabbed it gently with the
tip of her tongue, and it made him sigh out loud. Slowly she let the rounded tips of her
long fingernails slip down his cheek, exerting just enough pressure to leave a faint sting
linger after. "Your nails are kind of sharp," he remarked with a hint of apprehension.
She spread her fingers and looked her nails over front and back with a concerned frown.
"Hmm. Well have to do something about that," she said determinedly. Then she slid
open the drawer to her nightstand and retrieved a long emery board. She sat back and
began following the edge of each nail with the file, slowly, in one direction, first one side
and then the other. She leaned forward against him and this time with both palms
against his face said, "Now that Ive honed them, lets see if you still think my nails are
only kind of sharp." "Uhh…lets not!" he responded startled. "Oh cmon, just an itty
bitty scratch," she pleaded toyingly, "Just with my little finger. I promise." "Why
would you want to…? Agh! Shit!" he cried. Shed curled her pinkie and although it was
only a quick swipe across his cheek, the sudden and directed pain made him swoon.
She touched her knuckle to the scratch, and with a self- satisfied smile, showed him the
blood before she licked it off with the tip of her tongue.
"Look, Im not into pain," he stated definitively. He could see she was in rapture, gazing
at her long fingernails, and finally after a few moments more she looked up at him
blinking her eyes vacantly and said, "Im sorry, did you say something?" "I said," he
began, but in that instant she pressed her hot lips to his, and her impassioned kiss spun
his world in dizzying circles. So dizzying he didnt even feel her slip her fingers around
the back of his neck and place her thumbs against his throat…until the white-hot rake of
ten sharp long fingernails hit him like a thunderbolt. "God dammit that hurt!" he cried, "I
told you Im not into pain!" "I hoped you would find it sexy," she said. "Sexy?!" he
repeated incredulously. "I thought you were the kind of a man who appreciates a
tigress," she said with an air of dismissive contempt, "Looks like I misjudged you."
"Well…maybe if you didnt do it so hard," he urged, desperate to resucitate her interest
in him. "Hard? That wasnt anything close to hard scratching," she said with an arch of
her lovely dark eyebrows. His inner voice of reason suddenly counseled him to get out
of there. "Could you maybe untie me and…," he began with a benign smile. She
snuggled up against him and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. "No. But I promise Ill
be good from now on," she said. She kissed his neck, his cheek, his lips. While she
kissed him she slipped a hand inside his shirt and tenderly caressed him with her soft
fingers. He drew a quick breath when he felt her sharp nails touch him, but then relaxed
when she merely stroked them softly over his skin. "See, I can be good," she whispered.
"Yeah," he sighed, already quite aroused by her touch. "I can be so good," she breathed
hotly in his ear while she slid her hand down over his stomach and stroked back up
lightly with her nails. The feeling of her sharp long nails skating over his abs,
accompanied by the piquant hissing sound, and the syrupy warmth of her tender lips
sealed against his, was overwhelming. While she kissed him she stroked her nails
slowly from under his chin down over his Adams apple. The feel and sound of her
sharp nails catching on his 5 oclock shadow was so arousing that he didnt notice her
increasing pressure slightly each time she did it over again. "I can be so very good," she
muttered almost to herself after ending their kiss, her calm countenance perfectly
masking the giddy delight she felt inside at seeing the raw welts shed left on his throat
with her exquisitely-sharp long fingernails.
He could feel his skin burn, but he was so completely turned-on by her that he couldnt
be upset. The next thing he knew, she sat up and withdrew a pair of long seamstress
scissors from her nightstand drawer and slipped the blade under his shirt cuff. "Hey!
What are you doing?" he gasped. She responded only with a sexy smile. "This is a $120
shirt!" he exclaimed. "Is that a lot of money for you?" she asked with unmistakable
condescension. "Well, kind of. I mean, not a whole lot," he replied, sensing that it was
in his best interest to make her believe he was affluent. "Good," she said with a smile,
"After all, its only money. Right?" "Right," he agreed, forcing a smile. With a few
quick snips, she cut his sleeve all the way to the shoulder. After cutting the other sleeve
too, she removed the pieces of his shirt. "Easy come, easy go," he said with another
forced smile. Her laughter was musical. "I love a guy who can make me laugh," she said
sliding off the bed and slipping the scissors under his pants cuff. "Ohmygod! Not the
suit!" he pleaded. She stopped, tilted her head and frowned. "Are you saying your pants
are more important to you than I am?" she asked. He felt her press the cold, sharp point
of the scissor against hisshin, and it sent a shiver though him. "I…Im sorry…I didnt
mean it to sound like that," he assured her quickly. "Thats good," she said smiling
again, and proceeded to snip his pants leg all the way to his waist. When she had
removed the remnants of his pants, she leaned forward and left a kiss on each of his
knees. "You have nice legs," she said brightly, "Thats fortunate, because I hate guys
with ugly legs." Then she turned and picked at his knotted shoelaces with her very long
fingernails, but quickly became frustrated and snipped the laces with the scissors. She
slipped his shoes off and dropped them on the floor. "Are you ticklish?" she asked,
pressing her long thumbnails to the soles of his sock-covered feet. "Not really," he
answered hesitantly, unsure what answer she was hoping to hear. She slipped her
fingernails under the band of his sock and began peeling it toward his ankle, allowing her
nails to stroke him. As she pulled his sock off by the toe she brought her other hand up
and placed her nails against his heel. "Are you sure youre not ticklish?" she asked
running her nails up and down his bare sole. "Nope. I guess that means you cant torture
me," he said jokingly. "It only means I cant tickle you," she corrected him.
When shed removed his other shoe and sock, she peered around and suddenly let out a
gasp. "Ugh! How disgusting!" she exclaimed. "What? What did I do?" he asked
desperately. "When was the last time you cut your toenails?" she screamed. He squinted
and looked down at his feet. There was no more than a thin sliver of white on his
toenails. "Theyre not very…," he began. "Theyre sickening!" she said covering her
mouth with her hand as though she were nauseous. She rummaged frantically in her
nightstand until she found a tarnished old toenail clipper, and she returned quickly to his
feet and grasped one firmly. "Disgusting," she mumbled as she began to clip his toenails
quickly and roughly . "Hey! Watch it! Slow down!" he cried. "Do you want me to throw
up?" she asked angrily and continued her frenzied clipping until all ten of his toenails
were cut completely to the quick. "There!" she announced with a satisfied exhale,
tossing the clipper back into her drawer. "Im the only one in a relationship whos
permitted to have nails," she informed, reaching back to take her high-heels off. She
swung her legs up on the bed, swiveling her ankles around and spreading her toes. Her
toenails were polished a high-gloss cherry red and their slightly rounded tips extended
elegantly long over the ends of her slender toes. "Ive…uh…never been much of a foot-
guy," he admitted. She laid her head against his right shoulder and extended her left leg
until her heel rested on his left shin. "Pity," she sighed. Then she slowly drew her knee
up, caressing his leg with the sole of her foot. She could feel his pulse and breathing
quicken, and slid her foot back down his leg. "A foot-guy would be loving this," she
said. "Well, it is nice," he offered. "Whats nicest about it?" she asked, caressing his leg
back up slowly with her sole. "I…umm…," he hemmed. "Is it how soft my foot is?" she
asked. "I guess," he said. "And warm?" she asked, sliding her foot back down along his
leg. "Yeah," he said quickly and swallowed hard. "What about my long, shiny red
toenails? Dont you agree theyre extraordinarily sexy?" she asked, flexing her ankle so
her spread toes were on display, and rubbed her heel up his leg. "Uh…yeah!" he said, a
bit surprised. She placed her foot against his calf and lightly pressed her toenails in.
"Would you like me to use them this time? Would you like to feel my long red toenails
up your leg this time?" she asked whispering in his ear. "Are you going to scratch hard?"
he asked apprehensively. "Would you like me to?" she asked. "No!" he said. "What a
shame," she said, but scratched her toenails gently, slowly all the way up his shin and
onto his thigh. As his long moan came to a crescendo, she turned her foot and stopped it
just short of his boxers, which were comically tented by his enormous erection. "Did that
excite you?" she asked. "Yeah!" he moaned. "Would you like me to do it again?" she
asked. "Oh god, please, yes!" he choked. "Ok," she said cheerfully, repositioning her
foot and curling her toes so her long red toenails dimpled his calf, "But this time I get to
do it a little harder." "Ok. Ok. But just a little," he panted. "Marvelous," she sighed, and
scratched her toenails back up his leg, this time leaving a trail of white lines on his skin.
And this time she turned her foot and slipped it inside the leg of his boxers until her
toenails lightly poked his rock-hard dick. "Its really a pity youre not a foot-guy," she
said facetiously, "Otherwise Id jerk you with my toes. Im really good at it." "P-p-
please…d-d-do it," he croaked. "But youre not a foot-guy," she reminded him. "I think
I might be…I mean, I am!" he moaned. "It was scratching you with my gorgeous long
red toenails that made you into a foot-guy, wasnt it," she prodded. "Yes!" he panted. "It
turns me on so much to know I have such power over a guy," she cooed. "Please jerk
me with your toes!" he pleaded. "If I do, you have to promise to do something that I
want later," she said grinning. "Anything!" he exclaimed. "Fabulous," she sighed. She
proceeded to free his cock out the leg of his boxers with her toes. He jumped when she
pricked him with her long red toenails, and she laughed a sexy laugh. She grasped his
cock head with her toes and squeezed; rubbed her silken sole across his pee-hole with
excruciating slowness, and then lightly circled the rim with the tip of the long, red nail of
her big toe. When she heard him whimper she laughed and slowly scraped her toenails
down the side of his shaft. It made him moan out loud, and she laughed louder. Then she
walked her toenails up his hard shaft like a cat climbing a tree trunk, eliciting an even
more urgent moan from him. Licking her lips, she looked into his eyes. "Would you like
me to jerk you now?" she asked. "Yes! Yes!" he panted. "Between my toes, or between
the soles of my feet?" she asked. "I dont know!" he gasped, "No ones ever done it to
me before." "So youre saying I should choose?" she asked. "Yes! Whatever!" he cried.
"What if I do it both ways, and you can tell me which one you like best?" she asked. "I
dont care!" he screamed, "Just do it already!" "I dont like a demanding guy," she said
petulantly, lifting her toes from his dick, and drew her knees up quickly.
"Im sorry!" he cried, "I didnt mean it to sound that way. I was just, well, you
know…frustrated." "As I intended," she said looking away from him to admire her long,
lovely fingernails. "Please dont stop," he begged meekly. Still admiring her long
fingernails, she yawned and replied with ennui, "Ill think about it." "Ok," he said with
resignation. She pouted her lips and said a commiserating "Awww", and she sidled up to
him and kissed his cheek. She rubbed her ankle up and down his erection. "Someone is
very hard," she observed with a grin, "Someone wants me to take him between my baby-
soft feet and jerk him off." "Yes. Will you?" he moaned. "Maybe," she said teasingly.
She traced a long fingernail around one of his nipples and then brushed it with her
thumbnail. She smiled at the way he panted breathlessly in response to her touch. "Tell
you what," she said, "Ill jerk you with my toes if you say I can scratch you as hard as I
want." "Why do you want to do that?" he asked. "Its a limited-time offer," she said,
ignoring his query. She stroked the long red nail of her pinkie-toe lightly up and down
his cock and when he gasped and moaned she said, "Offer going once…twice…" "Ok!
Ok," he blurted. "Ok what?" she prodded. "Ok you can scratch me," he answered. "As
hard as I want," she reiterated. He took a deep breath, but then he nodded in agreement.
"Marvelous!" she sighed with a smile, running her fingers through her thick shaggy dark
hair.
She lifted one long, shapely leg over him in a graceful arc, then sat down on her haunches
straddling his legs. Eagerly she placed both hands flat against his chest. He looked at her
apprehensively, trying to imagine how much it was going to hurt. "Youre afraid," she
observed. "Well, kind of," he admitted, "It would be nice if you reassured me." "Why
ever would I do that?" she asked, indenting all ten of her long, sharp fingernails into his
chest and intently watching for his reaction, "The fear in your eyes turns me on." His
immediate thought was to tell her that she was nuts, but he realized that would be quite
unwise. "Are you ready for it?" she asked, licking her lips in anticipation. "As ready as
Ill ever be, I guess," he said and clenched his jaw. Suddenly she swung herself around
and leaned her back against him. "Whats wrong?" he asked. "I changed my mind," she
said. He was silent for a moment, and then asked weakly, "Does this mean youre not
going to give me that footjob?" "The deal was Id do it if you said I could scratch you…
and you said it, so…a deals a deal," she said. She placed her feet around his hard cock,
and began stroking him. "My feet are so smooth we dont need any lube," she remarked.
She put one instep in front of his cock and sandwiched it with her other sole, slid it up his
shaft, lapping her toes over the head on the upstroke, and streaking her toenails down his
shaft on the downstroke. "Fuck! Youre…incredible!" he moaned. "Yes, I am," she
said, grasping his testicles with her left toes while she spread her right big toe and second
toe and stroked his cock between them. "I can feel your balls getting all tight," she
remarked, "And your cock head is all shiny and purple. Youre on the verge of
cumming, I can tell." "Y-yeah," he grunted. "We cant have that," she said slowing her
stroking to a crawl. "What?!" he screamed, "Why not?" "Because Im not ready for you
to," she said. "Please!" he begged. "No," she replied. "Dont worry, I can get it up
again quick," he assured her. "Im not worried. I can get a guy hard whenever I want,"
she said. "Then please let me cum!" he whined. "Well…I guess…oh, ok," she sighed
and resumed caressing and stroking his cock with her toes and toenails. "Thank you.
Thank you. Oh god. Oh fuck," he chanted as he soared back up toward the zenith, "Im
gonna cum any second." "I love the way your cock feels between my toes," she
whispered in his ear. He turned his face to her and drank in her dark-eyed beauty.
"Kiss?" she whispered, and pressed her warm, wet, parted lips against his. He moaned,
she cooed, she felt his cock start to pulse. Just as rivers of his hot cum began to flow over
her toes, she raked her long fingernails hard and fast across his abs.
"Shit!" he screamed, even as she continued milking his cock with her toes. His
midsection burned as though someone had thrown acid on it, and he tucked in his chin
and strained to look down. He was shocked by the sight of four blood-filled furrows
running parallel completely across his abs; and a fifth, from her thumbnail, above the
others at a slight angle. "You said you changed your mind!" he cried. "Well, I changed
it back again," she said running her long-nailed fingers through her thick, dark hair.
"Why did you do that to me?" he asked, "Does it get you off or something?" She bit her
lower lip and batted her long, curling dark lashes. "Oh my god, it does!" he gasped.
"Dont look at me like Im some kind of psycho!" she demanded, "Its not like I get off
on stabbing guys with an icepick, or setting them on fire, or crushing their balls with…"
"Ok, ok," he said, not wanting to hear the rest of that one. "…my feet," she giggled,
giving his testicles a little squeeze with her toes. "Well I dont enjoy getting clawed till I
bleed," he said. "How DO you enjoy getting clawed?" she asked playfully. "Well…I
dont mind feeling a girls nails on my back when were having sex," he replied. "Not
exactly what I meant," she said admiring her very long, clear fingernails. He began,
"Look, youve had your…er…fun, so if youd just untie me…" Suddenly she straddled
him and held his face in her hands. "Tell me Im not the sexiest woman youve ever been
with, and that you dont want to fuck me, and Ill untie you," she said. Before he could
respond, she pressed her sensuous, warm, wet lips to his and spun his world. "Would you
really have untied me if I said it?" he asked, breathless from her kiss. "I never even
contemplated you saying it," she replied confidently. She kissed him again while she
slipped her hands behind him. He felt her sharp nails in the small of his back, and
gasped, "Wait!" But she ignored him, dug in hard, then dragged her nails slowly up to
his shoulders. "Shiiiiit!" he screamed. She held her hands up, seemingly fascinated by
the droplets of his blood pooling in the troughs on the underside of her uncommonly-
long nails. "Ok, thats it! Thats enough! Im done! Untie me right now!" he barked.
She shook her head no. "You had your chance," she said. "Promise you wont scratch
me again!" he demanded. "Cant promise," she said licking her long nails clean one by
one.
His body burned from being scratched, and he began to notice how stiff he was getting
sitting upright with his arms and legs splayed and tied to the bedposts. He also realized
that in this position it was unlikely they could have intercourse, and thus she had never
intended to have sex with him. She sat in front of him on top of his legs and put one hand
up her skirt. Her eyes were riveted on him as she touched herself. He could see her right
hand moving quickly under her skirt, and her hips thrusting slightly. Her breathing grew
heavy, and she moaned louder and louder. Suddenly she lashed her left hand out and
plunged her long fingernails deep into his bare thigh. His scream of pain and her scream
of orgasmic bliss combined in a surreal harmony. She fell forward against him breathing
deeply, and he sighed with relief when she relaxed her grip and withdrew her nails from
his thigh. "I really cant take this anymore!" he cried. She looked up at him and smiled.
"Im not joking! I insist that you…" he began, but suddenly she was fondling his dick
with her warm hand, and despite himself he hardened to her touch. "What do you
insist?" she asked tauntingly, watching him succumb to her gentle stroking of his now-
fully-erect member. She slid down the bed and sat on his legs, with her legs folded. "I
need you to watch closely," she told him. At first she stroked him slowly with one hand,
but soon she began to use both, stroking one hand up and off the head while the other
hand followed, whereupon she began stroking with the first hand again. "Going in just
one direction like this," she informed him, "I could keep you going forever without
cumming. After several hours it would literally drive you insane. Dont worry though,
Ive never actually done it long enough that a guy went crazy. My arms always give out
first." "You sound disappointed," he remarked. "Kind of," she admitted. "You have
quite a sadistic streak," he observed. "Dont judge me," she said with an icy stare,
ceasing her stroking to lightly indent all her sharp nails around his hard cock. "I didnt
mean to. Im sorry," he said fearfully. "Ive never ripped a guys cock with my nails, but
you know they say theres always a first time," she said chillingly. "Please! Im sorry if I
offended you!" he pleaded. She leaned forward and brought her face near his cock, still
pressing her nails in. "Should I believe him?" she asked, speaking to his cock. She
moved his cock so it looked like it was nodding yes. "Well, ok," she said, lightening
the pressure of her nails, "I guess Ill let you both skate…" She looked up at him and
with a toss of her thick, shaggy dark hair, concluded,"…this once." She un-folded her
legs and cupped his testicles between the soft soles of her feet. "The pleasure is about to
get intense," she said with a smoldering smile, "One time a guy actually passed out." "I
promise I wont," he said earnestly. "Wise. Like him, you would regret it sincerely," she
warned, making a claw with one hand. Then she tightened her toes grip on his testicles,
placed all eight fingernails at the base of his cock, and lightly raked them up his shaft to
just under the rim of the head. "Oh damn!" he gasped. Then with a snicker she did it
again. "Do you like me?" she asked.
"Of course I do!" he exclaimed. "I didnt mean sexually. Thats unquestionable. I
meant, do you like me as a person?" she asked. He paused only a second, but it was a
second too long. She let go of his dick and folded her arms. "Oh, come on!" he whined,
"How can I know if I like you as a person? I dont know much about you." "I suppose,"
she admitted, and sat back down on the bed. He anticipated the exciting touch of her
fingers on his dick once more. But instead, she turned and leaned herself back against his
shoulder. "So Ill tell you about me," she said. She reached out and brushed her nails up
the inside of his arm from his wrist to his elbow and smiled as her touch raised
goosebumps along with his pulse-rate. "If you had met me when we were children, you
would have fallen madly in love with me," she said. "Is that so?" he chuckled. She
glared at him. "Yes, thats so," she said. "Im sure you were beautiful even then," he
flattered her. "Not at all," she said, "In fact I was kind of mousey. But you would have
been infatuated with me…" He looked perplexed. She spread her fingers out in front of
her. "Because even then I had very long nails," she said. "R-really?" he said, recalling
vividly the excitement he experienced on those rare occasions as a young boy when hed
seen a girl his contemporary who had nails of noticeable length. "I recall in kindergarten
the teacher was constantly sending home notes for my Mom to cut them. She did cut
them for me every Friday night, but they grew so fast that by the middle of the week they
were seriously long again." She reached out and brushed her long fingernails up the
inside of his arm again, eliciting a quiet gasp from him. "Can you imagine if I had been in
your class?" she asked, "Me in the row in front of you, spreading my left hand on my
notebook to hold it steady while I wrote. You trying to be discreet peering over my
shoulder to stare at my long fingernails… hoping the teacher wouldnt catch
you…because if she did shed assume you were trying to copy off me, and youd be
much too embarrassed to admit the real reason." His jaw slackened with awe that she
could see into his soul with such clarity. She smiled with satisfaction. "I would have
known you were looking at my nails. In fact I would have purposely been trying to allow
you an unobstructed view of them…posing them for you…clicking them on my
desk…digging my sharp thumbnail into the soft wood of my pencil…scratching the back
of my head to make that sound. I would have purposely done everything girls do with
their nails that make your knees weak," she said in a soft, buttery tone of voice. He
swallowed hard. She had stripped away his emotional faGade as quickly as she had his
clothes. "In the spring I wore sandals," she continued, "But I really preferred to go
barefoot. I would slip my feet out of them when I was seated at my school desk. I would
have made sure you saw my soft, pink soles. Sometimes Id stretch them smooth, and
sometimes Id wrinkle them. And, sometimes I would sit with one foot under me, so you
could see my toes…and my toenails…with their little, sharp, white tips." She extended a
leg and stroked her toenails slowly up his shin. "You would have been utterly captivated
by me," she said with quiet authority. She reached out and brushed her long fingernails
up the inside of his arm again, with a little more pressure, leaving a trail of white lines.
"You would have daydreamed about kissing me," she said, "That I would be your first
kiss. That I would raise my delicate little hands to your face…my lovely fingernails so
long and clear. You could almost taste your excitement, anticipating their
touch…wondering if they would feel as sharp as they looked….wondering if it would be
as exhilarating as you fantasized." "I wish it had been like that," he sighed, "The first
girl I kissed was a nail-biter. And her breath smelled like peanut-butter." "Such a pity,"
she said, sensuously batting her thick, dark, curling lashes. Tenderly she took his face in
her hands. "But if you close your eyes, we can pretend," she said, softly brushing his
cheeks with the sides of her long thumbnails. "My first kiss was also un-romantic. He
had buck-teeth and glasses. One day he just tapped me on the shoulder, and when I
turned around he kissed me," she said. "Im sorry," he commiserated. "It was gross. He
was gross. Not like you. Youre a wonderful boy," she whispered, approaching his lips.
"And that boy hated my nails…" she said, and she kissed him in the most tender,
innocent little-girl way. She took him instantly back to his boyhood and remade his
memory. "…Because right after he kissed me, I scratched him hard," she whispered, and
raked her sharp nails quickly down both sides of his neck. "Eeeiiaa!" he screamed,
snapped from his reverie by the harsh sting. Reeling from the burning aftermath he
looked at her with disbelieving eyes, tearing-up from the sudden pain. "Youve got the
same look on your face that he had," she snickered, as one by one she licked her long,
sharp nails clean, "I mean, if a little girl has long fingernails, you
must figure she uses them as weapons."
"Maybe he thought you were a nice person," he said bitterly, still wincing from the fresh
scratches on his neck. "Nice people sit home crying while their significant-others cheat
on them with sexy people like me," she said. "You really believe that?" he asked,
suddenly aware of the simultaneous throbbing of all the scratches shed left him thus far.
"People dont like to hear it because it attacks the whole idea of romance theyve been
brainwashed to believe in," she said. "Youre incredibly cynical," he said. "No…but I
am incredible," she said casting off her clothing. With a grand sweep of her hand she
presented herself to him, in all her naked perfection. She looked at his dick, standing
like a flagpole, and smiled back at him with the satisfaction of having made her point.
She got on the bed, between his spread legs, facing him, on her knees and elbows.
Gently she held his testicles with one hand and wrapped her other
around his erection. With a twinkle in her dark eyes, she enveloped her luscious, soft
lips around his cock head and as she gently scraped the rim with her teeth, she lapped
his pee-hole with the tip of her tongue. As soon as she heard him moan, she began to
stroke his balls and shaft with her long fingernails. His pleasured moans quickly turned
gutteral, and finally to primal cries, as the combination of her tongue, lips, teeth and ten
long fingernails propelled him rapidly to a climax of such epic proportion and duration
that by the time his pumping contractions finally subsided, he was shaking and sobbing.
When he had composed himself enough to open his eyes, a burning throbbing led him to
glance down at his thighs…now streaked with long, blood-red furrows he had no
recollection of her making. "Like I said: Im incredible," she reiterated as she licked her
long, sharp fingernails slowly clean, one after the other.
Minutes later, his heart was still pumping hard, and he was still out of breath. She came
and sat against him and gave him a gentle kiss…then another, and another. She fondled
her breasts with one hand, and slipped the other hand between her legs. While she
fingered herself, she raised one knee and began to massage his flaccid dick with her toes.
He could see her eyes close, and heard her begin to moan softly. She fingered herself
faster, matching the pace with her toes on his dick, but it refused to respond. "Whats
your problem?" she demanded loudly. "Oh, gee, I dunno…I wonder if it could be
because you got me off twice already, and the last time was only like five minutes ago,"
he replied sarcastically. She glared at him, and then suddenly raked her long fingernails
angrily across his abs, which were already painfully sore from when shed done it earlier.
"Fuck!" he screamed. "Thats what I was hoping," she said with obvious frustration in
her voice. "Im sorry," he apologized. "You should be," she agreed. "Pressuring me
isnt going to help," he said. "Youre right, Im sorry," she said. She got up and walked
to her dressing table. "Lemonade?" she said picking up a full pitcher. "I am a little
thirsty," he said. She turned her back to him while she poured. "You have a nice ass," he
remarked. "Nice? Its perfect," she said placing a hand on it. She turned around holding
a tall glass of lemonade, and brought it toward his mouth. "Im really sore. Maybe Id
recover quicker if you just untied me," he suggested. But she ignored him and put the
cold glass to his lips. He took several gulps and then turned his head. "Youre
dehydrated. You need to drink more," she said, forcing the glass to his lips again, "Drink
it all." "Im sorry I cant get it up for you right now," he said. "You will, very soon," she
smiled. "I admire your optimism," he chuckled, looking down at his dick lying pitifully
against his thigh. "Im not being optimistic," she laughed, "I crushed a few Viagras into
your lemonade." "A few?!" he cried, "How many is a few?" "Oh…five or six," she
said with a shrug, rummaging in her nightstand drawer. "What?! My god! Itll kill me!"
he cried. Laughing, she said, "I was only kidding. It was two. Now relax and let it go to
work. Meantime Ill just freshen these up a little." Once again she went about honing
her long, sharp fingernails. Watching her, he said, "I really wish you wouldnt make
your nails sharper. Or scratch me so hard." "You werent ever scratched by a girl when
you were a boy, were you," she observed. "How did you know that?" he asked with
surprise. "Experience with different guys who were in to my nails," she said, "Guys who
got started because some girl scratched them are more often the ones who get off being
scratched." "I assume you prefer guys who like to be clawed," he said. She laughed. "I
much prefer guys who dont like it," she said.
She ran her long nails through her thick, dark hair. "Lets see if the Viagra has kicked-
in," she said. She reached out and dragged her nails lightly up the inside of his arm.
Then she did it to both of his arms at once. Then she did it again, this time combined
with a strong, hot kiss. She rubbed the soft, warm sole of her foot up and down his
erection and whispered, "I want you inside me. Now." "I dont think we can, not with
me sitting up and my legs spread apart," he said, hoping to convince her to untie him.
"Lets try anyway," she said. With the sinewy grace of a cat, she kneeled over him and
wrapped her arms around his neck. Guiding his cock with one hand, she lowered herself
onto his cock. "See," she said. "Id still like you to untie me," he said. "Stop talking,"
she whispered in his ear, then she licked it and pulled his earlobe with her teeth. Her
body was hot and sweaty against his body, her breath hot on his neck. She thrust her
pelvis against his, riding his hard cock slowly, encased in her hot, slippery pussy. She
began to caress his back with her nails. Firmly, in long strokes. She stroked with one
hand up from the small of his back, at the same time she stroked her other hand down
from his shoulder blade. She stroked with both hands bottom to top; then top to bottom.
A warm tingling sensation covered his back and grew hotter and stronger the harder she
stroked with her sharp nails. "T-thats…uh…getting uncomfortable," he whispered, but
got neither a reaction nor an effect. She moaned, and raked her nails quickly across his
upper back. "Aggh! Hell, that hurts!" he cried. "Shut up!" she panted, and she bit his
neck, thrust harder…and scratched deeper. His cries of "Agh! Agh! Agh!" an octave
below her cries of, "Ohh! Ohh! Ohh!" filled the little bedroom. Sounds of sexual
pleasure juxtaposed with sounds of pain resonated off the walls with their huge, painted
daisies. Glassy-eyed dolls and stuffed animals looked on from their dresser-top vantage
like an inanimate theatre audience witnessing with complete dispassion the young dark-
haired woman encasing her male captive, pumping and clawing him ferociously.
She lay against him, her breasts heaving as she struggled to regain her breath. Sweat-
soaked strands of her dark hair lay matted against her cheeks; her luxuriant, curling dark
lashes like feathered curtains over her closed eyes. Her long legs, smooth and glistening
with perspiration, were stretched out along his. She weakly brushed his ankles with the
tips of her long, gloss-red toenails. "That was wild!" she sighed breathlessly, a huge,
satisfied smile lighting her face. "M-my back…the pain…is killing," he groaned.
"Yeah, I scratched you pretty hard," she said yawning, "Can I get you some aspirin or
something?" "Just untie me," he pleaded. Ignoring his request, she slipped her hand into
his crotch and picked up his flaccid dick. She used her nails, and the pricking sensation
caused his cock to stir. "I hope youve still got some Viagra in you," she said with a little
laugh. "Please! Untie me," he begged. Again ignoring him, she said brightly, "Im
ready to go again." "Oh my god," he sighed. She rose slowly to her knees, and began
kissing his neck seductively, caressing his face with her long fingernails. "Why wont
you untie me?" he cried. She stopped. She lowered her curling lashes. In a soft voice,
she said, "Because Im afraid youll leave." "I promise…," he began. "And then Id
have to scratch you REALLY bad." Her fingers were curled like claws. He watched the
light glint off her long, deadly-sharp fingernails, and he swallowed hard. "I swear to god
I wont run," he vowed. She bit her lower lip in thought. "Ok," she said. She rummaged
in her nightstand drawer and came up with---of all things---a switchblade. "Actually I
think this is for the better," she said as she sliced his binds, "I do feel like having you on
top of me."
Slowly he lowered his arms and closed his legs, sore and stiff from hours spent in one
position with his muscles tensed. "I need to use your bathroom," he said. She made a
dramatic arc with her arm and pointed her long forefinger-nail at the door. "Across the
hall," she said. He struggled to get off the bed, and she helped him to his feet. When he
stood next to her he was surprised that she was as tall as him. She ran her nails through
her shaggy dark hair in the sexy way she had. She took hold of his arm. "Im trusting
you not to try escaping," she said, indenting her sharp fingernails. "I wont," he said.
She drew him close to her hot, naked body. She caressed his calf up and down with her
foot, and stroked it with her sharp, red toenails. They both felt his dick harden against
her. "Hurry back," she said with a gentle kiss on his cheek and a playful squeeze of his
ass with her sharp fingernails.
"Shit!" he whispered to himself, alone in the bathroom, when he saw himself in the full-
length mirror behind the door. There were scratches across his chest and abs, on his neck
and throat…and his back was sliced raw in every direction. He looked at the little frosted
bathroom window and wondered if he could fit through. He was naked, but there were
bath towels hanging on a rod. Then he realized he didnt even know what floor they were
on! He took a deep breath and opened the door. Startlingly, she was standing right there.
"I promised I wouldnt run," he said, "Dont you trust me?" "I have to pee, too," she
replied. She put one hand over her breasts and the other over her snatch as she filed by
him sideways through the narrow doorway. As they passed each other, she held his arm
with her nails, preventing him from leaving. "No, I dont trust you," she said as she sat
down on the toilet, "Look the other way."
When she stood, she took him gently by the
neck and made him stare into her eyes, dark and mesmerizing under her thick, curling
lashes and sexy arched eyebrows. She wet her lips and whispered, "Kiss me." Still
embracing him, she reached behind them into the shower and turned on the water. "Join
me?" she asked, although at the same time urging him into the shower clearly meant it
had been a question only in the rhetorical sense. He grunted and grimaced from the sharp
sting of hot-water needles pounding his
scratched body, and he cried out when she soaped his back with a sponge, even though
she did it as tenderly as she could. "It always shocks me to see what my nails have done
to a guy," she said. "So then why do you keep doing it?" he asked, his jaw clenched
against the burning discomfort that racked his entire upper body. She looked at her
hands, her dark eyes seemed mesmerized by the sparkling orbs of water that hung and
dripped from the ends of her long, lovely fingernails. "The slightest touch of someone
with my nails, the feeling gets…amplified. Sort of like a turntable needle. It goes
straight through all of me. Its like electricity," she said. She stood with her body
touching his, hot water flowing over them, steam rising around them. She began to
stroke his arms with her nails, up and down. "Like sexual electricity," she purred,
increasing the pressure of her sharp nails. "Hey!" he grunted, squirming his shoulders
against the escalating hurt. Suddenly she sandwiched him against the tile with all her
weight, and stared him with her face almost touching his. She fondled his balls and cock
with her slippery, soapy hand and caressed it with her sharp nails. It got him hard as a
rock in seconds. She stepped one foot on his toes and curled her toenails into him.
"Ow!" he cried. She brought her other leg up over his hip, and with her hand guided his
cock into her waiting pussy, then brought her other leg up and wrapped both around him.
She began to thrust urgently, slamming him against the tile again and again. Her nostrils
flared when she spoke. "When I scratch," she said, digging her fingernails deeply into
his ass, "My orgasm is like a nuclear explosion." Then she bit his neck and clawed her
nails up his raw back, dug them into his shoulders with all her might as her body shook
and she let out a long, blissful moan that lasted and lasted. Gradually she relaxed, and
slid her legs down his, until she was standing, leaning weakly against him. "That was
wonderful," she said, laying her head in his neck. He looked down and watched as the
water, tinged pink with his blood, swirled into the drain. She smiled and dropped to her
knees, and with her long-nailed fingers spread on his thighs, took his unfulfilled erection
into her hot mouth. She caressed his balls with her nails, and when she felt them draw up
and knew he was about to cum, she slowly withdrew her mouth from his cock and looked
up at him. She smiled. Then she climbed back up on him, guided his cock back into her
pussy, and brought both of them to simultaneous climax, raking his savaged back yet
again with her long fingernails. He slid down slowly with his back against the shower
wall, until he was sitting on the floor. She stepped out and wrapped a towel around
herself. "Wash that off or itll stain the tile," she said referring to the wide smear of
blood he had left on the wall. He buried his head in his hands and sobbed. "Are you
hungry?" she asked. He looked up at her bewildered. "Get up, Ill make you breakfast,"
she said. Slowly he struggled to his feet, gave his maimed back a stinging rinse, and shut
the water off. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he accepted her hand. In her little
kitchen, he watched her crack open eggs with her thumbnails. When they were fried, she
put them on plates and set them on the little two-person dinette. Just as he picked up his
fork, she placed her hand on his and asked, "So, do you like me…as a person?" She
pressed her nails in while she waited for his response. The longer he was silent, the
harder she dug. He had no choice but to nod. He felt her sharp toenails scaling up the
inside of his leg and she burrowed her foot under his towel until she found his balls. She
reached out and stroked both his arms with her long fingernails. "Lets go away!" she
said with passion. "Away? You mean, like for the weekend?" he asked. "I mean like
forever," she said getting up. "F..f…for…ever?" he queried anxiously. She came and sat
in his lap, and ran her nails through her shaggy dark hair in the sexy way she had of doing
it. "Lets go to Bali," she said, stroking his face with her nails, "Well live naked in a
hut, and make love night and day." "I have a life here!" he said. "Your life is with me,"
she replied, grasping his face firmly with her sharp nails and turning it toward her
determined stare. "What about money?" he asked, trying desperately for some logic to
make her abandon her plan. "Ive got loads of it," she answered. She narrowed her eyes,
squeezing her nails harshly into his cheeks, and asked angrily, "Am I just a one-night
stand to you?" "N..n..n..no!" he responded quickly. "So…Bali?" she asked with a smile.
Desperation filled his soul. She was so beautiful. So sexy. But obviously mentally quite
unstable. She held her hands before her, lovingly admiring her ten uncommonly-long
oval-tipped fingernails. "Im waiting," she said. His mind raced in different directions,
lost between fear and indecision. He looked at her nails. Hers were the kind of nails that
he had always fantasized about. He knew the odds were hed never find a woman with
nails like hers again. But his body was scored with raw furrows and throbbed painfully
after only one night with her. He shuddered to imagine having sex with her one more
time, let alone day and night for the rest of his life. But just as much he feared what she
would do to him if he didnt accept. "Its a limited-time offer," she said, pinching her
nails hard into his cheeks, "Offer going once…twice…" "Ok! Ok," he blurted. "Ok
what?" she prodded. "Ok Ill go to Bali with you!" he answered. "And?" she asked.
"And…live with you forever?" he replied with uncertainty. "And?" she asked, scraping
her long fingernails slowly down the side of his neck. He swallowed hard. "And you can
scratch me," he said with submissive resignation. "As hard as I want," she reiterated. He
took a deep breath, but then he nodded in agreement. "Marvelous!" she sighed with a
smile, kissed him…and raked his raw-skinned back quickly with her long, sharp
fingernails.
-
Career Woman
Career Woman…by R. Starkweather
Marianne Bennett was a self-employed real-estate agent who specialized in finding short-
term rentals for people doing contract work. Consultants, analysts, architects, executives,
anyone who needed an upscale apartment for a few months while completing a contract
or work assignment in the city. Marianne had chosen her career carefully. Not only did
it provide her with more than enough money for an extravagant lifestyle, it also brought
her in contact with a limitless supply of educated, affluent, stimulating people. Sexy
people. And Marianne craved sex. In fact she was addicted to sex. But it was an
addiction with which Marianne was comfortable, if not blissfully happy. Her clients
were only going to be around for a few months at most, and being incorrigible
workaholics, were either singles who had failed at relationships, or had strained
relationships with their spouses or significant-others back home. It was a perfect setup
for Marianne, and she loved her life. She could only fully achieve sexual gratification if
she was the aggressor, if she seduced her sexual partners. Each time, that presented
Marianne with the thrill of a challenge, although she couldnt remember ever having
struck-out. It wasnt difficult to understand why.
At twenty-six, Marianne exuded the beauty of youth combined with the charm and poise
of someone much older. By the time Marianne actually met a client face-to-face, after
exchanging just a few e-mails or short telephone conversations, shed uncovered their
deepest needs and could exploit it to her advantage. The line "you had me from hello"
applied to everyone Marianne set her sights on. From schoolgirl innocence to best-friend
supportiveness to maternal nurturing, Marianne could project it with perfection. Being
58" with long legs and a lithe figure and covergirl features allowed her to do any fashion
with credibility. Sometimes she wore tight, revealing clothing, and sometimes she
dressed modestly. She could wear her soft brown hair up, or let it flow long and lustrous
down to the middle of her back. She could wear striking makeup, or just a subtle hint
that looked like none at all. Chameleon-like, Marianne could reinvent her look to appeal
to whatever each client found irresistible. The only thing that she never altered was her
long fingernails. Ever since she was a young girl, Marianne had kept her nails very long.
She was blessed with long fingers and long nailbeds, and as her nails projected almost an
inch from her fingertips they just barely curved with sublime elegance. They were
naturally strong and never broke or chipped, and Marianne didnt do much with them
other than just slightly round-off the corners and buff them to a natural shine.
Occasionally she polished them, either red, black or silver depending on the effect she
was after, but most of the time she left them bare. She knew that long nails were out of
fashion, but she didnt care, because she knew that long nails were irresistible to
everyone. In fact, shed found that people who claimed to disdain long nails on women
were the first to succumb to their seductive power. People often stole glances at her feet
too, and Marianne was aware of how seductive they also were. She had long, straight
toes and long nailbeds, and she kept her toenails just beyond the ends of her toes and
either polished with silver or white, unless she had her fingernails polished, in which case
she did her toenails to match.
When she got into the taxi, Marianne checked her Blackberry that her 10AM
appointment with a Bradley Hodges was at the Fordham Arms uptown. She called his
cell and confirmed. Bradley was an IT analyst from silicon valley, who would be staying
for six weeks. Marianne had checked his facebook page and found his picture, and she
thought he was quite good-looking, but on the phone she found him to be a quiet,
somewhat shy guy. He had a wife back home who had given birth to twin boys a month
earlier, and they also had a two year-old girl. To Marianne that meant there probably
hadnt been much spontaneous romance in his marriage of late, and in fact he probably
hadnt had sex in a while. Marianne wore a short, low-cut clingy blue dress that
accentuated her figure, and she left her hair down. She thought from the pictures on
Facebook that Bradley wasnt especially tall, so she wore a pair of white strappy sandals
with only one-inch heels, and no pantyhose. She knew that Bradley would have last-
minute guilt and second-thoughts, and the time it would take to get out of hose might be a
deal-breaker. After she paid the taxi driver, she marched up the steps and got in the
elevator. While she rode up to the twelfth floor, she checked herself in the mirrored
walls, and cast an admiring glance at her ten long perfect nails, which were unpolished
but naturally shiny.
She opened the apartment door and scouted around quickly, opening the blinds a little, re-
arranging some furniture, and adjusting the thermostat a degree or two. She checked the
master bedroom, and found lots of throw-pillows on the queen-sized bed, which she
quickly removed, and she turned down a corner of the covers. When everything had been
arranged perfectly, Marianne put on some vanilla-scented lip gloss and waited for her
client to ring the bell. She didnt have to wait long, Bradley rang at exactly 10AM.
Marianne smiled to herself, that shed pegged him right. People obsessively punctual
were generally repressed, and repressed people responded most easily to being seduced.
She was also right about him not being tall. They stood eye-to-eye, and Marianne was
glad she hadnt worn higher heels. "Ms. Bennett?" Bradley said. "Please. Marianne,"
she answered with a warm, disarming smile and a slight toss of her long brown hair.
"Okay," Bradley said. Seeing her beautiful face and hair, he found it impossible not to
check out the rest of her, and tried to scan quickly just with his eyes so she hopefully
wouldnt notice. But Marianne timed herself perfectly, and wiggled her toes just as his
gaze was at its lowest point. Bradley blushed and she giggled softly and turned to lead
him into the room. Bradley followed her, captivated by her tight little ass and the sexy
way her hips moved when she walked.
"I really like how nice and light it is in here," Bradley said, trying to keep things
professional. Marianne smiled, "I wanted to show you this apartment first. I dont think
youll need to see any more." Bradley felt strange that somehow this woman hed never
met seemed to know him so well, and was so confident about it. He tried recalling their
e-mails and phone conversations, wondering when and how hed revealed that much of
himself to her. "There arent any children in this building," Marianne said, "Youll be
able to work in peace, and sleep soundly." She smiled. It was true, Bradley found it
impossible to work at home with his kids crying and carrying-on, and hadnt slept
through the night since the twins came home from the hospital. He desperately needed
silence and solitude. Marianne spoke quietly, and he could hear her perfectly. Not like
his wife who had to scream to be heard above the din of their children. Her voice got all
screechy when she raised it. Mariannes voice was soft and feminine.
Marianne escorted Bradley to the couch and they sat, half facing one another. She
reached to open her attache case on the coffee table, but stopped. "The carpet is plush,"
Marianne said, leading his eyes down to the floor in front of them, "Youll want to go
barefoot." Bradley recalled his home on the west coast, with low-pile carpet that, despite
promises of stain-proofing, was nonetheless spotted from spillage. He smiled, "Well, I
dont usually…" Marianne gently slipped out of her sandals and ran her bare feet
through the carpet, grabbing it with her toes, scraping with her silver-polished toenails.
"It feels wonderful. Come on, try it!" she cajoled. Bradley blushed. "Come on,"
Marianne smiled. "Oh, okay," he said, and slipped out of his loafers. He patted the
carpet with his sock-clad feet and smiled at her. "Tsk! You have to take your socks off!"
she laughed. Bradley blushed and was about to protest when Marianne took his leg and
brought it up on her lap and began peeling off one of his socks. He felt her sharp nails
against his leg and it sent a shiver up his spine and made the hair stand up on the back of
his neck. "Oh my, did I scratch you?" she asked with concern. "Huh? No, no," he
answered quickly. "Ok, thats good. But Ill let you take the other one off yourself," she
said with a grin. Bradley complied, stripping off his other sock. "My nails are very long.
Sometimes I scratch someone without meaning to," Marianne said, spreading her hands
in front of him so he had to look at them. Bradley nodded. "Other times I mean to," she
said slyly, staring into his eyes. Bradley pulled his collar away from his throat with a
finger and laughed nervously. "Go ahead, feel how luxurious the carpet is under your
feet," Marianne encouraged him. Bradley felt the carpet tentatively with his feet. "No,
you have to really feel it!" Marianne exclaimed, and she placed her feet on top of his and
pushed them down. "Grab it with your toes," she chided, and she curled her toes against
his, forcing them deep into the thick carpet, kneading his feet with her baby-soft toes.
"Isnt that the sexiest feeling?" she asked, taking a deep breath. Bradley looked at her a
bit shocked. "Im sorry, was that unprofessional?" Marianne asked innocently.
"Oh…no," Bradley assured her quickly. "I probably shouldnt mention sex to a guy
whose wife just delivered twins last month and was pregnant for nine months before
that," Marianne said apologetically. Bradley looked forlorn, and a little flustered at
hearing the truth spelled out for him like that. "I keep putting both feet in it, dont I?" she
grinned, giving his toes a little dig with her toenails and letting them trail off his feet
slowly. She watched his pupils dilate, knowing what effect she was having on him
despite himself. "Come on, let me show you the bedroom," Marianne said, rising and
taking his hand. Bradley reached for his socks but she led him off before he could, and
they walked barefoot across the soft, thick carpet toward the bedroom. The feel of carpet
under his feet was making him get horny, Bradley admitted to himself. Or maybe it was
the touch of Mariannes soft, warm hand.
"See if the bed is comfortable. If not I can have the owner replace the mattress,"
Marianne said. Bradley awkwardly lay down on the bed and squirmed around as if
testing the firmness. "Its fine," he said, tugging at his collar. "Here, let me help you,"
she said kneeling on the bed. Marianne gently unbuttoned his top button…and then the
second button as well. Bradley tried to sit up but Marianne stretched out next to him on
her stomach and folded her arms across his chest. "Youre so tense," she said, nuzzling
his cheek with her lips, and left a soft, wet kiss. Bradley sniffed the air. "Whats that
aroma?" he said. "You must mean my lip gloss. Its vanilla," she said, putting her lips
under his nose. "It reminds me of my moms baking, when I was a kid," he said. "It was
nice being a kid wasnt it? No responsibilities, just fun with no guilt," Marianne mused.
She waved her legs slowly and Bradley stared at her bare wrinkled soles. She lowered
her legs and he felt her soft, warm toes brush against his bare ankle and slide up and
down his calf. "Wait…I dont…I mean, I cant…" Bradley stammered, swallowing hard.
Marianne smiled her warmest smile. "Its been so long, Bradley. You need it so bad. I
can tell," she said in a syrupy half-whisper, "You deserve some pleasure. You work so
hard. Youve earned it. Dont you think so?" Bradley started to speak but Marianne put
an inch-long nail to his lips. "Shhh, just lie back and enjoy," she smiled, slowly drawing
her nail away and replacing it with her lips. Bradley felt the room start to spin as
Marianne kissed him. He found himself opening his mouth to welcome her tongue. His
brain cried out to him to stop her, but his hands wouldnt respond. She owned him. He
felt his belt being undone and his pants being pushed down to his ankles. He watched her
unbutton his shirt the rest of the way and spread it open, and then climb on top of him.
She kissed him hard again, and she gently bit his neck before she sat upright and closed
her eyes, lowered her hot, wet pussy onto his hard dick and began to ride him slowly.
Marianne moaned and shrugged her dress off her shoulders, and she brought Bradleys
hands to her breasts. Her nipples were as hard as rocks, and she guided Bradley to pinch
and pull them. He was reluctant, and Marianne opened her eyes momentarily and smiled,
"Its okay to do it harder. Mine arent sore and tender from breastfeeding." Responding
to the stimulation of her nipples, Marianne lazily scratched her inch-long, perfect
fingernails up and down Bradleys arms, and once again he felt a shiver go up his spine,
only this time it was stronger, like an electric shock. They both felt his dick stiffen even
more, and Marianne cooed, "Dont you just love the feeling of my long nails on your
skin?" Bradley moaned and nodded.
Marianne knew Bradley couldnt last very long, and she didnt want him to cum until she
was on the verge of orgasm herself. She leaned down and kissed him, and then she sat up
quickly and dragged all her long fingernails harshly over his chest, leaving bright red
tracks in their wake. Bradley grimaced and cried, "Shit!" and Marianne laughed and
said, "Oh yeah! Sometimes I mean to scratch." By now she could feel her orgasm
beginning, and she leaned forward again and whispered in his ear, "Lets cum together."
Bradley grunted and Marianne could feel him start to pump, to shoot inside her, and at
the same time her own orgasm came over her like a tidal wave. She pulled him up and
bit down hard on his shoulder and clawed his back over and over with her nails while she
reveled in the waning moments of her blissful climax. Breathless and dizzy, Bradley
closed his eyes. "So, youll take the apartment?" Marianne asked. He nodded, unable to
speak. "I knew it would be perfect for you," she said, then she winked and whispered, "It
was perfect for me, too." Marianne got up and Bradley tried to. She gently pushed him
back down. "Rest. Sleep," she whispered. "Ill be here for six weeks," he said, "Can
we…?" Marianne smiled and stroked a long nail along his now-limp dick. "Maybe," she
smiled over her shoulder as she left, "Ill call you."
Marianne took a cab home to take a quick shower and change for her 1PM appointment.
Bob Searles was a risk-management consultant in his late forties from Atlanta, married
24 years to his high-school sweetheart, with two daughters who happened to both be in
college locally. He had a six-week contract with a chain of neighborhood clinics, and
needed a centrally-located apartment. She put the lease papers in her attache and got
dressed. She put her long hair in a high ponytail. Marianne painted her toenails bright
red, and when they were dry she wiggled into a pair of tight designer jeans and slipped
her bare feet into red leather strappy sandals with four-inch heels. She put on a white v-
neck knitted top and hung a little gold cross around her neck, did her eyes in deep blue
shadow, and put on bright red lipstick with clear gloss over it. Finally she painted her
long fingernails bright red and waved them around to dry them faster, and dabbed on just
a drop of lavender perfume. She dashed downstairs and caught a taxi for the five-minute
ride to the other side of the park. Bob Searles was standing on the steps, smoking a
cigarette when she pulled up. "Marianne?" he asked. "Bob? Hi!" she said in a chirpy
voice, and waved excitedly. Bob looked apologetically at his cigarette and was about to
drop it on the ground when Marianne exclaimed, "No, wait!" and grabbed his hand and
took the cigarette from him and took a deep drag on it. She pursed her red lips and blew
the smoke out slowly. She held the cigarette between two fingers, engaging Bob to look
at her inch-long shiny red nails, with their subtle curve. She watched his eyes. His
pupils dilated ever so slightly, but it was enough to tell her what she needed to know.
Bob held the door for Marianne and they went inside to the elevator. It was a tiny
elevator, and Bob was a stocky guy, so they stood very close. Bob itched his nose
nervously. "My perfume?" Marianne joked. "No, you smell fantastic," Bob said in his
slight Atlanta drawl, "Lavender reminds me of home." "Thats why I wear it. My
momma had it growin all around," Marianne said, lapsing into a southern drawl herself.
"Youre from the south!" Bob laughed. "Mobile, Alabama," Marianne smiled, "Ever
been there?" "Cant say so," Bob answered. Marianne breathed a silent sigh of relief.
The elevator stopped and they got out. Marianne pointed to the door marked "6D" and
handed Bob the key. He opened the door and motioned for her to enter ahead of him.
She thanked him and he said, "Its nice to see a young girl who appreciates a fella being a
gentleman." Marianne smiled. "I see youre a Christian," Bob remarked, gesturing
toward the gold cross around her neck. She fingered it tenderly between her long, red
nails and nodded, "Living in this city is a constant test of my faith." "You wouldnt
happen to know if theres a Baptist church around here would you?" Bob asked. "Two
blocks south, and one block east," she smiled, "Thats one reason why I wanted to show
you this apartment first."
"Its a dandy place," Bob said looking around, "I sure wish my wife could be here with
me." "Youre lonely already," Marianne said, "Thats just so darn sweet." She leaned on
tiptoes and planted a little kiss on his cheek. Bob turned red and shuffled his feet.
"Omigosh, youre a shy one arent you!" she laughed. Bob blushed more. "Oh, shoot,
look what I did," Marianne said, and she went to wipe her lipstick off his cheek with her
finger. "Its on good!" she exclaimed, licked her fingers and wiped some more. "Nope,
still there," she said, "Cmon in the bathroom and Ill wash it off with soap." Marianne
took Bobs hand and led him through the master bedroom into the bathroom and wet a
towel and proceeded to tenderly wash her lipstick off his cheek. "Whew, I was afraid it
was on forever," she joked. Bob watched himself in Mariannes big brown eyes that
sparkled and danced while she talked. Marianne scraped a bit of stubborn lipstick with
her thumbnail. "Im not hurting you am I?" she asked, "My nails are awful sharp." Bob
shook his head slightly. She saw his forehead was getting shiny, and his pupils were
fully dilated. Marianne stroked her long red fingernails gently down Bobs cheek.
"Youre just such a sweetheart," she said warmly, paying attention to Bobs breathing as
it quickened with each stroke of her nails.
"The bedroom is the nicest room of them all," Marianne remarked, "Its unusually big for
a city apartment. Kinda like down home, isnt it?" Bob smiled and nodded. Marianne
sat on the bed and bounced. "Nice and cushy, try it!" she said with chirpy exuberance.
Bob sat on the edge of the bed and bounced a little. "Very nice," he remarked. Marianne
laughed heartily. "Omigosh you are just so cute and shy!" she exclaimed, kicking off her
sandals and scooting behind Bob. On her knees she began massaging his neck and
shoulders. Bob stiffened, and Marianne put her chin on his shoulder and said, "I know
youre homesick and lonely. I know how that feels. A little human touch always makes
it better. Trust me, ok?" She felt him relax a little, and she continued her massage.
Trying mostly to calm himself, Bob chuckled, "Youve got strong hands for a little girl."
"I could do it stronger if it werent for Id scratch you with my nails," she said. "Why do
you keep them so long?" Bob asked innocently. "For this," Marianne whispered with her
lips to his ear, and she began gently scratching the back of his neck. She felt him shiver
and she giggled quietly and began planting soft kisses along the side of his neck while
she continued scratching. Bob gulped. "Hey, I think this is getting a little out of hand…"
he said hoarsely. "You can ask me to stop anytime," Marianne whispered, and licked
him behind his ear. Bob took a deep breath. "Okay, will you stop?" he whimpered.
"Nope," Marianne said, gently biting his neck and reaching her hands down inside the
front of his shirt to scratch his chest. "B-but you said…" Bob sighed. "I said you can
ask. Didnt say Id stop," Marianne giggled, and she sat down and wrapped her legs
around his front, interlocking her ankles. "All my life folks have been tellin me Ive got
pretty feet," she drawled, "What do you think?" She spread her toes. Bob stared at her
red toenails, that had the same slight curve as her fingernails. "I think you like my toes,"
Marianne whispered while she kissed and licked his neck and scratched his chest with her
long fingernails. She put both feet in his crotch and felt his hardness, and she captured it
between her feet and began rubbing him and kneading him with her toes. Bob reached
for her ankles but Marianne quickly scratched her nails up his chest and grabbed his head
and turned his face sideways, where her lips met his in a long, hot kiss.
Bob didnt remember them undressing, but somehow they were both naked. Mariannes
delicate curves and white skin contrasted starkly with Bobs stocky, hairy body. She
kissed and licked and stroked him into a frenzy. He loved it when she rubbed his huge
cock between her soft feet, and he nearly hyperventilated watching when she kissed his
peehole and teased it with her inch-long pinkie nail, inserting it carefully, little by little,
until it was completely inside. "Betcha nobodys ever done that to you before," she
giggled, wrinkling up her nose. Marianne climbed on Bob and lowered herself onto his
cock. He was really big, and she let out a half-moan half-scream and clawed his body
with both hands. She clawed him very hard, enough to draw blood, yet he didnt flinch.
Obviously it hurt, and Marianne knew it. But she also knew he was the stoic type, whose
moral code was to "take it like a man". That turned her on, and while she rode his cock
she kept clawing him, noting with delight there were tears in his eyes although he didnt
utter a sound or try to stop her. When she felt her orgasm start, she bit down on his
muscular shoulder and didnt let up until shed cum completely. Bob hadnt cum, and
was still rock-hard, and Marianne was sure he could last until she could cum again. She
rolled off him, pulling him on top of her, wrapping her legs around his tank-like body and
guiding his cock back into her with her hand. "Can I call you daddy?" she asked sweetly.
Bob didnt have the breath to speak, he just nodded. "Fuck me, daddy," Marianne
moaned urgently, "Fuck me real hard." And as Bob, overcome with animal lust, began to
pump her with all his might, Marianne bit his neck and clawed his back with wild
abandon until the two of them climaxed in a harmony of screams. "What have I done?"
Bob sobbed as he lay on his back. "Made us both real happy," Marianne laughed, "You
and me, were like a bull…and a mountain lion." She curled her fingers and admired her
long, bright-red nails. "Ive never cheated on my wife!" Bob wept. "Well, seeing as how
the horse is out of the barn…" Marianne smiled. And in the next moment Bob felt her
stroke the length of his limp cock with her sharp nails, coaxing it erect again. After they
fucked a second time, Bob was too exhausted to move. "Ill call you," Marianne
whispered, and she kissed his forehead.
As Marianne got into the taxi, her cell rang and it was a colleague calling to ask her for a
favor. "Can you show an apartment for me, M?" the colleague asked, "They called from
daycare and my little one is sick. I have to pick him up." "Sure, fine," Marianne
yawned. "I owe you, M," the colleague said. "Uh huh, half the commission," Marianne
answered dryly. "The clients name is Chris Harris, and Ill text you the address," the
colleague said. Marianne told the cabbie where to go, and she closed her eyes. She
really wanted to go home and take a shower, and she really hated to meet a client cold,
without doing any background on them. The cab pulled up to the curb and Marianne got
out and the doorman handed her the key to the apartment as her colleague had requested.
She slipped him a tip and went upstairs. After a while the bell rang and she buzzed the
client in. There was a knock on the door, and Marianne opened it to see a slight young
woman, perhaps 30, with long, scraggly black hair and baggy clothes. A pair of flip-
flops completed the very un-stylish look. "May I help you?" Marianne asked. "Im here
to see the apartment," she said. "And you are…?" Marianne asked. "Chris Harris," she
answered. "Oh! Sorry! I wasnt expecting a girl," Marianne laughed. "Neither was my
father," Chris responded flatly. "Come in," Marianne said cordially, ushering Chris into
the small hallway. "I just need a little place near work for the next month," Chris said,
"Im getting a franchisee started with her business." "Oh really? What sort of business?"
Marianne asked, just meaning to make conversation. "I franchise travel agencies
for…er…women," Chris answered. "You mean, single women?" Marianne asked
politely. "Actually, I mean lesbian women," Chris answered, eyeing Marianne carefully.
Marianne smiled blandly said nothing, and ushered Chris into the living room and began
showing her around. "Why were you reluctant to tell me youre a lesbian?" Marianne
asked suddenly, "Do I give off some kind of homophobic vibe?" Shocked by Mariannes
incisive power of perception, Chris blurted out, "Some kinds of straight women get afraid
Im going to hit on them." "Some kinds?" Marianne asked curiously. "Hot ones," Chris
answered candidly. Marianne smiled. No matter who told her she was hot, she loved
hearing it. "Are you?" Marianne asked. "Am I, what?" Chris asked. "Going to hit on
me," Marianne said with deadpan seriousness. "Of course not!" Chris exclaimed. "Why
not? Im not hot enough for you?" Marianne asked indignantly. "What? No! I mean,
yes…wait…" Chris responded, obviously flustered, and Marianne broke into a wide grin.
Chris realized Marianne had been messing with her, and she relaxed and burst into
laughter. "I like you," she told Marianne. Marianne smiled warmly and combed her
nails through her long brown hair. Chris said, "Nice nails!" "Do they turn you on?"
Marianne asked eagerly. "Enough! Shut up!" Chris giggled. Marianne said, "No, Im
serious. Since I was a girl my nails have always driven guys wild. Im really curious…"
Chris bit her lip. "Ok, yeah, theyre really hot," she admitted. "Have you ever been with
someone who had long nails?" Marianne asked, adding quickly, "I mean, if its not too
personal…" "Its ok. Yeah, a few times. But not like yours," Chris said. "You can ask
me a personal question if you want," Marianne smiled. Chris laughed. Marianne didnt.
A tentative look crept across Chris face. "Like, you could ask me if I ever thought
about being with a woman," Marianne said quietly. "Well, did you?" Chris asked.
"Never," Marianne answered flatly. Chris turned red. "Until now," Marianne said softly,
and traced one of her inch-long fingernails slowly down Chris delicate arm, watching the
goosebumps rise and seeing her shiver.
In an instant they were a flurry of groping hands and probing tongues. A trail of their
clothes on the floor led to the bedroom, and the two women rolled into bed kissing and
caressing and moaning urgently. "God youre so hot!" Chris panted. "Will you show me
what to do," Marianne pleaded innocently. "Of course. Dont worry," Chris said
reassuringly. Chris brought her mouth to Mariannes breast. "Jesus Christ!" she cried,
taking Mariannes nipple between her teeth, "Its like a piece of granite!" Marianne
returned the gesture, sucking Chris entire tiny breast into her hot mouth, and she felt
Chris shudder all over. "Fuck! You just made me cum!" Chris shrieked, "Youre
unbelievable!" They frenched wildly, and Marianne started stroking her long fingernails
all over Chris little body. "Shit, youre making me crazy!" Chris moaned, and began
fingering herself. Marianne took Chris by the wrist and pulled her hand away. She took
her other hand and reached for Chris mound. "No! Oh my God! Not with those nails!"
Chris screamed and grabbed Mariannes hand, but her strength was no match. "Ill be
careful, I promise," Marianne whispered, "But you have to stop fighting." As she said so
she slipped her middle finger inside Chris pussy and rolled her clit gently between her
thumbnail and index finger nail. Chris had one crashing orgasm after another, she was
sobbing and screaming and her little body was convulsing so hard Marianne had to pin
her down so she wouldnt accidentally stab her pussy on Mariannes long sharp nails.
Chris fingered Marianne too, which she enjoyed, but after a while Marianne took Chris
face in her hands and said, "Baby I really like to get eaten."
"Whoa!" Chris said, "Thats one thing I really dont…" But she never finished her
thought because Marianne flipped her on her back and quickly sat on her face.
"Uhmmmmppppphhhh!" Chris protested, buried under Mariannes hot, dripping pussy.
Marianne closed her legs tightly under Chris neck and she reached behind and started
scratching her long fingernails slowly up and down Chris ribs. "You like that dont
you?" Marianne cooed. "Mmmmmmmm…" Chris sighed, and Marianne felt Chris
tongue slip inside her pussy. "Thats a good girl," Marianne said, and she reached farther
behind and pulled Chris thighs up and scratched with her nails. Marianne orgasmed and
sank her nails deep into Chris little asscheeks, oblivious to Chris muffled cry of pain.
Marianne rolled on her back. "Oh my God, that was unreal!" she exclaimed. "Shit!
Look what you did!" Chris cried, examining the bleeding welts on her ass. "Im sorry,"
Marianne said in a little-girl voice, making a sad face and batting her eyelashes, "Here,
let me make it up to you." "Oh God! I cant take any more! Stop!" Chris gasped when
she felt Mariannes nails begin fondling her clit. "Thats not an option," Marianne
giggled, and kissed Chris with wild passion.
"Jesus, those claws of yours are fucking amazing! Youre fucking amazing!" Chris
panted breathlessly after another hour of non-stop sex, "I cant believe youve never been
with a woman before." "I never said I havent. Just that I never thought about it,"
Marianne winked. "Can we do this again sometime, while Im in town?" Chris asked.
"Sometime? How about, lots of times," Marianne grinned as she glanced at her watch.
"Crap! Ive got to run," she exclaimed.
Marianne quickly paid the cabbie and sprinted up the steps to her apartment building, and
ran for the elevator. Out of breath she jiggled the key in the lock and went inside. "Im
home! Sorry Im so late!" she yelled. A young man came out of the kitchen wearing an
apron and wiping his hands on a towel. "This is the third time this week Ive had to cook
dinner. You owe me!" he said. "Okay," Marianne said, reaching around to untie his
apron. "I meant…" the man started. "I know what you meant," Marianne whispered in
his ear, "But this is what I mean." With that she ripped open his shirt and clawed her
inch-long fingernails quickly down his chest, leaving deep red furrows. He grimaced and
grunted in pain and staggered backward, but Marianne leapt on him and wrapped her legs
around him, letting her shoes drop to the ground while she buried her tongue down his
throat and sank her sharp nails into his bare shoulders and raked them across his back.
They stumbled back onto the couch and she worked his pants and briefs down and
grabbed his cock and shoved it into herself, clawing his back and biting his neck and
urging him to fuck her as fast and hard as he could. They both came in a matter of
moments, and he fell on top of her exhausted. "What did I ever do to get such an
incredible woman with incredible long nails to marry me?" he asked. "What you just
did," she giggled, "Now lets eat. Im famished!"
"Hard day?" her husband asked Marianne while they ate dinner. "Kind of," she said
blithely. "Busy one tomorrow too?" he asked. "Tomorrow Im showing 3-bedroom
penthouses to three execs from an investment banking firm," she answered. "Finding one
apartment to suit three guys? Think you can satisfy all of them?" her husband inquired.
"Oh, I think so," Marianne smiled.
-
Cat Woman 1-4
"Cat Woman" part 1
writtem by: M.C. e-mail address:
cooper@rclsgi5.eng.ohio-state.edu
i didn't really feel like going out to the club, but "what the hell" i
thought. i paid my cover and went down the stairs to the cellar as it's
called. man the music was loud. as i was standing along side the dance floor
i saw her. my God, she was perfect to my eyes. and she really knew how to
dance. i studied her body as she jammed to the beat, noting how she threw her
skimpy outfit, her strong toned busty tan body and wild long dirty blond
hair. i got closer so i could see the beautiful toned curvyness of her strong
legs perched in wicked 5 inch black stiletto pumps. She moved with such
authority and powerfull grace atop her spikes. then i noticed my ultimate
turn on, long fingernails! i'm not talking wimpy fashion statement nails, i
mean she had claws! her nails were an easy 3 inches long with a sexy
medium-downward-curve to them. i got closer. i could see how perfectly her
nails resembled eagle talons as she had her nails somewhat pointy and
polished a dark sinister red.
As she danced she would outspread her long nails around her beautiful
face wiggling and showing them off. and her hands were so pretty with longish
feminine fingers and tanned smooth skin. her nails looked to be as long as
each finger!
i was staring so long i hadn't noticed the music stopped for a few moments. i
looked up and was caught in her stare. she was looking at me wickedly, as if
she were going to eat me alive! i felt like a mouse looking at a merciless
cat. the music began again and she gave me a little sultry grin as she
resumed jamming to the beat. wow, i hope i didn't piss her off. i got a drink
and continued my gazing at this perfect vision of a catwoman. her figure was
so feminine...so powerfull in a sexy feminine way. she was no skinny whimp!
i finished my drink as a slow song came on. i was startled to see she was
walking right for me, strutting her stuff atop her clicking heels. "Want a
slowdance with me?" she said in a slightly raspy low sexy voice. i gulped and
managed a dignified yes. as i stood before her i placed my arms around her
small warm waist and she placed her sexy hands and nails around the back of
my neck. she was about 5'6" tall and her spikes made her able to nearly look
straight into my eyes. she pulled me close as we swayed to the soft music. as
i felt her nails shift on my neck she said, "I've noticed you staring at me
for a half hour." man she felt good and her nails light touch were driving me
crazy. "i thought you were the most beautiful
woman i've seen in a long, long time."i bet you hate hearing that all the
time," i said still in shock. i felt her nails press a little into my skin as
she said, "Well thank you, I don't mind looks when I'm hunting up some fun
for
myself."
we continued swaying with her giving me long hungry wicked stares. when
the song ended she slowly pulled her hands along the sides of my neck raking
her claws in pretty hard. i cringed feeling the true talon like sharpness of
herfeminine weapons. Her hands then stopped near my throat as she kept up the
pressure saying, "I want to painfully dominate you, are you into it?" "Heck
yes!" i blurted out, not fully realizing what she was capable of, but i loved
her nails and sexiness! She released me and we left for her car.
She drove a hot new 96 black RX-7. i said the hell with my car and jumped
hers quickly. i then noticed her steering wheel. the leather was torn up,
even shreadded in some places, from her sharp long nails! and her leather
stick shifter looked like a cat had chewed/clawed it too. She saw me staring
and
she said, "Look at this cheap leather," as she gripped the wheel with her
nail tips and squeezed. Her gorgeous long nails dug right in completely
through the leather, then she pulled tearing her nails out leaving 8 more
tufts of ripped
apart leather. "They just didn't build this car for a modern strong woman,"
she sternly said as she stared at my concerned reaction. "My God, i'm really
in for it" i thought. i loved watching her sexy hands and curved 3 inch red
nails wrap
around the tormented little steering wheel as she drove. she was brutal to
her poor car, mashing the clutch hard with her sexy perched in spikes feet
and legs. we quickly screeched into her palace-like driveway and we got into
her house.
She led me to her large bedroom and gave me a strong shove, sending me
stumbeling to the floor. "Now get your shirt off my plaything," she ordered
as she stood there with a wide stance in her tight short dress and heels. i
did as i was told. she walked over to me and placed her right foot on my
chest. "Go
ahead, try to get up," she said as she pressed down digging her feminine 5"
stiletto heel in hard. i squirmed under her with no success. She giggled at
my megar whimpering attempt at overpowering her as she stood fully atop me
placing incredable pressure on her sexy high heels. As She stood atop my
chest sinking her tall stilettos into my ribcage, she pulled her skimpy
spandex dress off over her head letting it drop to the floor. All she had on
was a sheer bra, panties, and pumps, all black. my God she was curvy and
toned. what a flat
belly and big breasts and curvy legs...She placed her hands on her hips,
really showing off her 3 inch red talons against her tanned belly, as she
said, "I'm going to enjoy hurting you with
my long fingernails! I want you to stand before me." as she stepped off me i
got up, standing before her. She placed her beautiful claws on my chest and
curved them in. her nails were digging into me harder and harder making me
bit my lip.
i was staring at her beautiful long nails as they dimpled my skin as she dug
harder into my chest. i was whimpering from the increasing pain, trying to
keep standing. the look on her face was of pure smug bliss as she knew the
pain she could inflict with her nails. she dug harder making her nails cut
into my
skin. "Oh my are you in pain? Are my nails causing any discomfort?" she cooed
as her 3 inch feminine claws punctured deeper through my skin into mussle
tissue making my cry for mercy and flow blood down my chest. my legs were
getting
weak and shakey as my dick hardened like a rock. "Is the trama from my pretty
sharp talons to much for a male to take? ......WELL!" she yelled as she
really squeeze carved her long fingernails in hard and deep. i collapsed to
my knees
begging for mercy. i had no idea her nails would be so strong, sharp and
mean. i was looking at her curved talons that were impaled into my chest, the
sight and pain of them made me throb in sexual bliss. i then looked up seeing
her big D cup breasts looming over me, another sigh of her feminine
superority over
me. Her sexy face was glaring down at me as she flexed her hands sending
waves of pain through me as her nails continued their wicked grip on my
bloody chest.
"If you only realized how hot this makes me, just the feeling of my nails
sinking into your living skin and tissue, knowing the damage and pain I can
cause with my nails turns me on," she said as she withdrew her nails from
their
deep wounds. "OUCH, OOOOOOOHHHH!!,"i was whimpering as each millimeter of her
claws pulled free from my skin. once her nails were free she outspread and
wiggled her nails infront of my face. "My nails are so beautiful aren't
they," she said as she now held them still. i was really checking out her
awesome
claws. Her nails are nice and long rooted to each of her sexy tapering
fingers. And her weapons extend to such a perfect constant-curve 3 inch
length ending in a thin sharp semi-pointy edge. She could fillet my face if
she was inclined to.
Then she quickly clutched my face, tilting my head back, and began sliding
her nails up my face in a pushing motion. i yelped as i felt her nails slice
my cheeks open. "My I've got my nails sharp, you poor face is going to prove
it!" she said in a wicked low tone. "No!!! Please have mercy!" i cried as she
now curled her fingers and pulled her claws slowly dowy my face. Her nails
were slowly tearing down my face, mixing my blood and tears as i continued to
whimper my pleas for mercy. "Oh you poor baby," she said as she enjoyed
pulling her nails down my face again raking harder and deeper than before. i
was
really whimpering and crying now as her wicked 3 inch strong talons were
destroying me.
She then clutched my face and began squeezing her nails into my cheeks
very hard. "Oh yes, my nails penitrate your face flesh so easily, beg me not
to squeeze my nails in all the way!" she said with a fury filled voice. my
heart was racing from the danger and pain as she might kill me with her 3
inch long nails! "Please Mistress, please spare me, please it hurts so much,
please".... I franticly cried as she flexed her hands and arms sinking her
talons in deeper and deeper. "OH, OH
YES!! I simply love this......It feels so good digging my nails in this
deep!" she moaned out in pure bliss as my face continued to bare her brutal
abuse. i was in such pain feeling her sink her claws in deeper and deeper
till i felt her nail tips against my tongue! i was in serious pain but my
pants were very sticky ! i looked to either side and could see her hands and
some of her nails, feeling and knowing she had done real wicked damage. She
began shaking my face and moaning loudly in her growing orgasm. "If only my
girlfriends could see
me now with my male pincushion!" she said as she pulled her left hand free
and then squeezed these nails into my forehead and down my nose close to my
eye. She quickly impaled her left hand's curved 3 inch fingernails into my
flesh as she moaned in her orgasm. Her impaled long nails were also holding
me up as i
was quite weak and ready to collapse to the floor, with tears and blood
streaming down my face. "Oh I love this!" she moaned as she seemed to pass
her climax. after her heavy breathing slowed a little she glared at me, "Get
on the bed NOW!" She pulled her nails free and basicly tossed my slump body
onto the
bed.
"Oh please....i love your nails but i don't know how much more i can
take,"i pleaded to her as she approched me. She straddled my legs and sat
down saying, "It isn't how much you can take, it is how much I want!" She
then placed her long thumbnails on my stomach and pressed them in deeply
instantly
drawing blood. "Do you understand!" she snarled. "YES! Oh my goodness YES!" i
cried out in pain. She rotated her hands while keeping her thumbnails impaled
into my belly and dragged them up all the way to my neck causing two nasty
red oozing gouges. i was sobbing in pain from this wicked catwoman, as well
as
saturating my pants!
"Now I want you to kiss and lick my nails, pampering them and showing me
how much you love them," she said. She placed her left hand on my mouth and i
went to town! i really love her nails and i wanted to try and appease her. My
kisses went along the entire length of her five left hand nails, along the
super smooth polished topsides then along the curved sides and sharp
undersides. man, kissing her nails, especially her curved nail sides was so
sensual and sexy for me as this posision shows them at their most wickedly.
then i began licking the sides of her long slightly tapering curved nails
cutting my tongue along the underside edges a few times but it was worth it.
Her fingernails are so beautiful! Finally she began sticking them in my mouth
which was really turning her on. she switched to have me suck her right hand
nails and she placed her left hand on my face to support herself. Her left
hand nails were half covering my eyes with the tips randomly on my forehead
and
near my eyes digging in with her supported weight. i kept on licking and
sucking her right hand nails really turning her on. as she was getting
excited she would begin squeezing her left hand digging her nails blindly
into my face. i could see the roomlight shine on her nails making them glow a
wicked red as i
looked up from beneath their grip. me sucking her nails was really getting to
her as she was squeezing hard enough to draw blood again but i kept on trying
to satisfy her and kept sucking.
"Oh that felt so good," she said now supporting herself with both hands
on my chest and giving me a great view of her barely contained D-cup breasts.
She clenched her hands on my chest curling her claws into my sore bloody
chest as she said, "I'm so turned on right now I could pull you apart like a
lioness, just look at my long curved 3 inch nails on your chest as I'm doing
a simple little squeeze, they just want to sink right into your organs!" "No
Mistress, please don't kill me, your nails could slice and tear me into
pieces, but please let me live," i begged her. She then placed her left hand
on my pants covered groin and began digging her nails in at an angle. my
erection was ready to burst and she squeezed her nails in harder into my dick
and chest slowly while giving me her wicked stare. She pressed her left hand
nails in harder till they were cutting through my pants when i exploded
bigger than ever
before. i completely saturated my pants. She gave me this wicked knowing
smile and then placed both hands tightly over my face.
That is all i remember. When i woke up i was laying in the back seat of
my car and only had faint shadows of scratches all over my chest and face. i
found a note in my pocket that said, "I let you live for another encounter at
another time....love, Catwoman." Wow, she let me live........
Cat Woman part 2
writtem by: M.C. e-mail address:
cooper@rclsgi23.eng.ohio-state.edu
I heard a knock at the door. "Hi. May I come in?" she said. My God, it was
her. It had been 5 months since that night with the Catwoman! I invited her in
of course.
I felt myself shiver as I saw her feminine powerfull form walk in atop her
loud 6 inch spike black strappy sandals which displayed her curvy strong legs
perfectly. She also had on a tight short black skirt and white tight blouse
with no bra. Her massive unconstrained firm D cup breasts had a sexy tear-drop
shape topped by her large brown nipples, easily seen through the thin white
fabric.
She stood with her back to me, her thick wavy dirty blond hair comming
nearly to her tiny waist. Her hands were hanging down by her waist showing her
nails. Oh my her nails were still very long, a very sexy 3 inches long,
pointed, curved and polished a darker red......
"I want you.....And you KNOW how I want to treat you...." she said. I knew
she really wanted to tear into me. I was in for it! She turned and slowly
walked towards me. My stare want to her thighs as her feminine toned legs
flexed with each loud step. I heard splintering noises and noticed she was
ruining my oak floor with each sexy step of her very thin stiletto heels. Man
she had a sexy walk, swaying her hips with each gracefull fowerful step. My
stare moved to her her exposed flat belly to her firm heavy breasts, then to
her sultry face. She stopped only inches from me as she held up her hands
showing off her incredable weapons while saying, "Remember my long
fingernails......I'm in one of thoes wild horny moods."
Her nails looked perfect and extreemly dangerous, and she formed her left
hand into a claw-like posision, and began slowly running her index, middle, and
ring fingernails along the edge of her thumbnail. The resulting slow scraping
hiss indicated how extreemly hard and strong her nails are. "You love my
feminine talons, I can tell.....Even though I can KILL you with them," she said
matter of factly. "Oh yes Catwoman, I'm truly very captivated by your hand and
NAILS and you!" I said. Her green eyes flared as she gave me a wicked smile and
said, "Lets have a quick drink." "OK, my liquor is in the kitchen."
She strutted past me and I watched her sexy walk into my kitchen, and
watched her high heels destroy my linuloeum floor beneath her awesome powerful
perched legs. She was preparing a rum and coke so I handed them to her and she
poured. She gave the 2 liter bottle a playfull squeeze distorting then
puncturing her nails right through with so little effort. She then wickedly
pulled her long talons down and out of the bottle and handed it to me. The
bottle had 5 tears that were 7 inches long. She smiled as I said, "My God, you
could idily pull me apart!"
We walked out to my small balcony. She stood with her back in the corner of
the railing looking at me as she sipped her drink. A light breeze was blowing,
making her big tan breasts and dark nipples all the more apparent through the
thin white top. She giggled in amusement and superiority saying, "Even a subtle
view of a curvy powerfull female's body like mine makes you males so weak, so
vunerable..." Just then a big and unfortunate moth flew into her left breast
and fell dazed at her feet. Before the flopping moth could right himself, she
placed the toe part of her sandal on him, preventing escape.
"Like I was saying, vunerable and weak like a bug at my feet," as she flexed
her thigh and calf mussles loudly crushing her little victim under her red
painted toes. She didn't lift, now shifting all her feminine weight to her
arched little left foot completely lifting her right. She idily sipped her
drink as her entire feminity bore down on him. I was staring at her crushing
pretty perched foot and noticed what I completely missed before, her long
toenails! They were modest in length compared to her fingernails, about 3/4
inch long and so pretty! "I woundered when you would notice why I was wearing
high heeled sandals," she said. Her cute little rounded toes were so pretty
with nails, and knowing she was crushing a little victim under them was a turn
on!
"Get at my feet, and kiss them......I want you to know why I call these my
kiss shoes," she said. I quickly did so, kissing the tan tops of her feet
moving down to her toes then red toenails, running my tongue along their glossy
polish. After a few minutes she said "Look" as she lifted her foot, revealing
the still distinguishable poor little moth, crushed to death my her. "Oh poor
little thing, look at what I easily did to him," she said looking down at her
cute toenails and high heels with a smug smile. I looke up to her and said,
"You are AWESOME! You absolutely drive me crazy!" She then lead me back into my
living room and said, "I want to have my fun, now stand in front of me with
your shirt off." I quickly did so. "Now I just want to rest my nails on your
sholders and..
....oh my this feels good!" she said as she slowly dug her nails in.
Her nails were very sharp and becoming very painfull. "What's wrong my play
toy???" she asked in a not so innocent tone. "Your nails, oh my God they hurt,
you're digging them in so hard.....ouch..oh...oh...ooohhhhhhh!" I cried out.
Her long nails were severly dimpling into my sholders, then she squeezed harder
puncturing all ten beautiful nails in. I was rock hard in excitement from
feeling her beautiful 3 inch red curved fingernails but the real pain and
damage she was inflicting was making me weak and cry. "Ohhhhh yessss! I just
love using my long nails," she moaned out. I fell to my kneese before her
pleading for mercy. "Whats wrong? Feeling vunerable and weak?" she said as she
sank her talons in to the 1/2 inch deep point. I was crying in pain feeling her
beautiful nails impale into my flesh, hitting my sholder bones. "Oh you poor
little male, victim of my feminine fingernails, victim of my feminine
WICKEDNESS!" she hissed glaring at me as she digging her nails in even deeper
to the 1 inch point making me cry out and go limp, she was balancing me with
her taloned grip. Her nails made mean scraping noises as the sank past my
sholder bones, and continued creaking as she held me up. She had a smug smile
as she unclutched my sholders letting me fall to my back.
She stood over my body glaring down at me. I was looking meakly up at her,
seing her flexed thighs and sexy big breasts looming over head, nipples
powerfully poking thru her blouse, and her perfect sultry face staring at me.
"Just like a helpless bug at my feet," she said as she now stood atop my chest.
Air gushed from my lungs as my ribs flattened under her sandaled feet tring to
support this wicked beautiful catwoman. "Oh I love abusing men!" she cried out
as she shifted her weight from her toes to the high heels. I wailed out in pain
as the same tall 6 inch stilettos that were splintering my floor were now on
me, her gorgouse feminity bearing down on her male victim. She cocked her
pretty head as she observed my reactions to her pain inflictions and said,
"Your face is completely red from my torture, and I love that!" She began
rocking her perched feet back and forth bringing some relief then incredable
impaling pain as her feminine body drove her spike heels in. She swayed her
sexy legs and hips to my cries of torture. Despite the wicked damage and pain
she was inflicting, I continued to be awestruck by her beauty thinking 'such a
sexy pair of curvy legs' to myself.
Then I was staring at her 6 inch spikes after she had done a painfull twist
atop me, bunching up my chest skin under her toe platforms. I watched and felt
her tall thin spikes again start to deeply impale my sore chest. "I want to see
some blood from my high heels to match my sharp nail wounds...." she cooed as
she really put weight to her stilettos. I was screaming now in blissful agony
as she looked at me with her curious and aroused face; she was biting her lip
in anticipation! "Ohhhhh yesss.....there we go! I can feel my high heels really
sinking in and there is the flowing blood!" she drawled out, so pleased at
herself and my suffering. I looked through tear filled eyes at her feet and
high heels an at my dimpled bloody chest. I was having trouble breathing from
her 125 pound hardbody weight crushing me still yet it didn't concern her at
all. As she stood atop my yielding ribs she played with her hair, running her
beautiful long nails thru it, fluffing it. She then finally rocked her feet
forward pulling her spikes free making me yelp and whimper as they withdrew.
She stood atop me for a moment then sexily extended her right foot and stepped
off of me. I took in a deep breath and could see I was covered in high heel
bruse marks and bleeding holes, two of which were quite deep.
She was glaring down at me while saying, "I love the power I have, looking
down seeing you under me, feeling you under my painfull high heels is such
bliss for me......I'm so intensely sadistic. Now onto your feet, as I want to
have even more pleasure with my long 3 INCH FINGERNAILS!!!" I staggered to my
feet and stood meekly before her. She spread out her long nails on my face and
caressingly pulled her claws down my cheeks, neck, and upper chest. She
puckered her red lips and blew me a kiss as she continued caressing me with her
sharp semi-curved nails. Boy she was beautiful and making me feel great. "You
are such a beauty Catwoman," I said. As she pawed my neck and sholders she
said, "Why thank you, call me Jessica. And I'm a beautiful Catwoman who loves
to use her claws on spellbound men, from caressing to brutally tearing." Her
voice was so sexy and so intimidating and so commanding. "I'm in such a mood
that you'll be lucky to be in one piece when I'm through," she added as she
pulled her nails down my cheeks. Oh my her nails are sharp. She gripped my
forearm and said, "Towel your chest off and lets go into your bedroom." I did
so quickly, wincing as I clensed my tormented chest, almost feeling sick as I
examined the wounds she inflicted. I then walked behind watching her sandaled
arched feet, strong legs, and terrific tight ass as she strutted to my bedroom.
She turned to me and said, "Give me a hot kiss." Our lips met for a
passionate kiss. She pulled me tight against her large D-cup breasts with her
hands on the back of my neck and head. Her big breasts and hard big nipples
felt so good on my sore chest as she began tonguing me. She tightened her grip
digging her long talons into my neck and head as she continued her powerful
french kiss. I was whimpering into her kiss as her squeezing nails were cutting
into me. She pulled her lips from me, still tightly clutching me, and said, "Oh
yes, I have you so excited in my beauty and in pain, and scared to death! I
love it!" and she began kissing again while impaling her 3 inch fingernails in
harder. I was crying into her kiss and then began screaming as she sank her
fingernails in deeper into my neck and head. She was moaning as she intensified
the pain by digging her 6 inch heel into my foot, still continuing our wicked
kiss. I was in such a state of fear and pain as she completely stood atop my
foot with her heel and continued squeezing her claws in past the 1/2 inch mark.
I was screaming into her suffocating kiss from this insane pain, yet I was rock
hard in arousal, being at her disposal!
She pulled her lips from me, now hearing my cries out loud, and she said,
"Oh poor little thing, tonight is just not your night, it's MINE! I'm going to
tear you apart." She pulled her nails and heel from their impaled posisions and
shoved me backwards onto my bed. She glared down at me saying, "I loved feeling
my heel impale through your flesh and bone, and feeling my nails dig into your
neck, now I want to feel my nails pulling thru more of your flesh!" She then
slipped out of her blouse and skirt, and stood only in her 6 inch sandal heels!
Such a pretty sexy woman. I knew this awesome female was going to seriously
hurt me, maybe KILL me! I was whimpering for mercy as she pulled me to the
seated posision as she arched her back, jutting her big 36D tan breasts out
towards my face. She pulled my face to her left breast, her nipple pressing
into my cheekas i gazed at her right breast. Her big firm breasts felt so warm
and soothing. "Oh my poor little male toy, I so much enjoy torturing you
severly," she said as her left hand nails began digging into the side of my
face as she smashed my head against her left breast. "I get so turned on
pulling men apart with my long sexy semi-curved 3 inch red fingernails......And
with my nails it is so easy!" she said now drawing blood from my left cheek.
"Oh Jessica, you're hurting me so much, you're so beautiful and your nails
are awesome, but I'm seriously hurting, please have mercy.....mercy..."I
begged. She then began digging her left hand nails into my cheek very hard
while saying, "Now, now....I lightened up last time, but today I'm torturing
you how ever much I want! UNDERSTAND!!!" she yelled while digging her left hand
nails in extreemly hard, sinking them completely through my cheek into my face
and gums. I was petrofied in pain and fear, crying to her as blood poored from
my face. Her breasts heaved so beautifully as her talons were killing me! After
a few minuites of her enjoying having her nails thru my cheek playing with my
tongue, she shoved me back onto the bed.
"I love how pitiful you look laying there because of my feminine talons and
strength," she said while holding her claws outspread infront of her. She then
sat atop my pelvis, her naked vagina atop my underware covered pecker. She
leaned forward, her pretty big breasts swaying, and outspread her 3 inch
fingernails on my chest. She slightly hooked her fingers and pulled her nails
down my chest. My breathing was irratic as her nails left ten welt trails over
my already brused up skin. Again she placed her nails on my chest and slowly
raked them down a little harder like a forcefull caress. She was moaning as she
turned my skin beet red from scratching again and again. "I geting so wound up
my poor disposable plaything," she said as she put her nails on my collar bone
and slowly began digging them in. She just stared at me as she dug harder and
harder. I watched in excitement and horror as her 3 inch red fingernails
dimpled deeper and deeper.....then impaling through my skin. I was still
watching but crying out for mercy. "Ohhhh yesss....Do you see that? You can see
why I think my nails are so awesome....They just dig right in.....You can see
why I just love ripping and shreading men apart.....It feels sooooo
gooooood!!!!" she moaned out as she flexed her pretty hands digging her claws
in well past the 1 inch mark. I was totally crying in pain, but she was
completely right, the sight and sensation of her long pretty 3 inch fingernails
digging and destroying my living tissue was awesome!
Her nipples were rock hard and her vagina was wet with her pleasure as she
outspread her nails again on my chest and said, "I want to make you suffer
MORE!" She then slowly ripped her ten sexy talons down my chest to my stomach.
I was crying out as her nails sliced ten mean bloody gouges the whole way. She
again clawed her talons down me raking deeper slices into my torso and making
me wet my pants. Her talons were driving me crazy as well as destroying me. "I
just LOVE using my 3 inch nails, feeling the damage I can inflict with them,"
she moaned as she raked harder still cutting more deep groves into my flesh. I
was still pleading and crying but knew it was useless. My love of her nails and
her beautiful self prevented my running away when I first saw her. "You are so
helpless at defending and excaping from me," she moaned as she raked so hard
and deep her long hard nails went 'click, click, click' down my feeble rib
cage! I was screaming in pain as she moaned in pleasure and raked down again
harder causing bone chips to fly as her long fingernails went 'click, cliCK,
CLICK!!'. I was covered in blood and deep torn wounds. Her hands were at my
stomach when her orgasm hit and she just squeezed her long talons in DEEP.
"Ohhhh yessss... yessss!!!" she screamed as she tightened her grip in orgasm,
digging her fingernails in all 3 inches into my poor guts, and squeeze crushing
and impaling the trapped flesh and organs as her orgasm peaked. I was screaming
in intense pain and tried to pull her left hand free. It was no use, i was no
match for her feminine strength.
As her orgasm began to subside her dreamy green eyes fluttered and she
gripped my forearm with her right hand and squeezed her long nails in hard into
my arm bones. I screamed as she said, "Trying to interupt my orgasm," and she
squeezed much harder. With loud snapping noises her pretty hand and nails had
impaled and crushed my arm bones! "I told you that you were helpless!" she said
as she bent my broken arm nearly to 90 degrees. My screams brought a smile to
her beautiful face as she continued torturing my arm, sinking her long nails
into the bone, splintering it from the pressure of her nail tips.
"I just love truly TORTURING men, your cries make me so hot, your body being
torn apart by my curved 3 inch long red strong fingernails sets me on fire with
BLISS!" she said, now using both hands, all ten nails, digging into my chest.
She was moaning as she quickly sank her nails in, digging them in harder and
harder one inch, then two inches deep. I was so torn up and weak, I just laid
there taking the intense pain. She then stopped at the 2 1/4 inch mark and
asked, "Oh you are so torn apart by me, do you still think I'm beautiful?" The
pain of her impaled fingernails was so intense I could barely think, but i
said, "Yes, yes Jessica, I think you are perfect...." "You are soooo sweet, I
just want to hug and SQUEEZE you!" she said as she clutched my head and
squeezed. I let out a weak wail in pain as her 3 inch nails dug harder and
harder into my bleeding head and my skull was cracking from her hard sharp
nails! "I could just squeeze you to death you're so cute and nice!" she said as
she squeezed harder and shook me. I was crying out my pleas for mercy as she
moaned out in pleasure, "I'm just so turned on....I want you to eat my hot
sex!"
She released me and stood so she was leaning against the foot-board and she
basicly pulled my near limp body between her sexy toned thighs. "Oh yessss, eat
my hot sweet sex slave," she ordered. She had me posisioned with my body under
her legs with my head between her thighs so I could look at her face and
breasts as I ate her. Though I was weak, torn guts and all, I licked her in
earnst and with passion. She was moaning in renewed pleasure and she
interlocked her feet and began squeezing me. Her sexy legs are so strong, and
she squeezes her thighs together harder and harder forcing my face against her
sexy vagina! I was now whimpering in pain as she was squeezing very hard in her
bliss. "Ohhhhh yessss!" she moaned as she had another orgasm. She was flooding
my face as she squeezed her thighs together harder still. "OOOOOHHHH!!!" she
loudly moaned as she crushed my neck and collar bone with her powerfull thighs.
I was crying into her vagina as I felt and heard my bones go
SNAPPP.....CRUSHHH... It didn't seem to bother her as she continued squeezing
in her continuing orgasm. I blacked out.
When I woke I was in a hospital in a neck, sholder, and arm cast. I was
quite shocked. I peaked undr the sheet to see I still had my jewels and saw my
torso was maled badly by her. But then remembering how awesome it was made me
stiffen. Then I heard loud high heel clicking in the hall and it was getting
louder. Then the door burst open...It was her. Man she was sexy wearing tall 7
inch red wide strapped platform sandals, short cutoff blue jeans, and a tight
red mussle T shirt. Her body looked so curvy and toned and her breasts looked
huge, ready to stretch out that tight shirt. She clicked her way over to me and
rested her hand on my left sholder cast asking, "So did you miss me these past
5 days?" Wow 5 whole days. "I just woke up and yes, you were the first thing I
thought of," I said looking at her red 3 inch freshly polished now squared tip
nails. "Well I have a proposision for you," she said as she was now digging her
right hand nails into my sholder cast. My God, her nails were actually sinking
thru my cast......"Ouch, Jessica, ohhhhh your nails!" I cried. "Oh yes I'm so
excited, how would you like to be my permenent house boy slave...Having
fun....Seeing my female friends...." she said still with her nails digging into
me thru my cast! "YES!! I'd really love that," I said. Her face turned slightly
wicked as she took her left hand and grabbed my face, her nails digging into my
cheeks as she said, "Good....As I don't think I'd have taken no for an
answer"..........
the end.....by M. C..inspired by Jessica, gloves.pic, vs1.pic
Cat woman part 3 "Wicked Jessica"
writtem by: M.C. e-mail address:
cooper@rclsgi5.eng.ohio-state.edu
Now i have been living with Catwoman Jessica, as her abused house
slave. She is quite wealthy, much of her money comming from other women who
need a man removed or taught a lession. Kind of an "equalizer woman" avenging
both rich and poor women. And when she isn't doing a job, she amuses herself
with me, teasing and tormenting me. Today was slow so i could tell i was going
to be tormented: this could be a long wicked day.
i was watching TV with her. i was allowed to only wear jeans. She was
wearing skimpy cut off "short-shorts" blue jeans, wide red suspenders , and
serious red 7" high heel wide strapped sandals with 2" toe platforms. She was
sipping a cup of coffee, tapping her 3" long red curved fingernails on the
ceramic cup, while idily digging and twisting thoes 7" stiletto heels into her
hardwood floor making yet another divit. "Have another cup slave....." she
sweetly said, so i hurried up and finished my present cup and got another. i
also brought her one, but she refused it as she didn't ask for it, and she made
me drink it as well. She had some sort of torment set for me. i drank these
cups, making my bladder full. i was soon figeting to go to the rest room, and
my torment began.
She slowly strutted over to me, her very high spike heels loudly
clicking and splintering the wood floor as her toned strong curvy legs and
arched feet flexed with each step. "I want to sit on your lap honey," she said
as she turned, really showing off her "Daisy Duke" shorts. "But i've gotta go
p...." i tried to say before she cut me off. "But nothing, your Mistress wants
to sit on her slave NOW," she said as she sat her tight full ass on my lap.
Damn she felt good and kinda heavy as she is a strong young lady, but i was now
stiff as steel and really had to go. She flung her legs over the chair arm, and
began stroking my face with her KILLER red 3" talons. She was teasing me,
outspreading her nails completely covering my face, then pulling them down to
my chin. Her nails have squared thin sharp tips now, her latest style, and were
scratching pretty hard. i could feel her nails raking my skin so sensually, and
she has such a wicked smile. She paused her curved talons over my eyes, and she
asked, "Are you excited or is that just a flashlight in your pocket...." Boy i
was in bliss feeling her nails and seeing the room light shining through her
talons, glowing red. Not only her nails, but her big tan DD-cup breasts right
there in front of me, her legs and ass.....But my bladder was filling.....
"Oh i'm loving it Mistress.......You are so beautiful, and i love every
second of your presence, but i've gotta pee.......pretty badly," i said, pretty
much knowing she planned this. She gave me a sexy stern look while squeezing
her left hand nails into my cheeks harder and harder while saying, "Well if a
simple biological function makes you want to leave my presence then fine." I
was whimpering as she dug her nails in harder still, cutting my face. She then
released me and ordered me onto my feet. i stood up right after she did,
looking meekly at her. Those high heels had her looking me right in the eye as
she backed me against the wall. She ran her right hand over my chest, ending
with her nails on my nipple. She moaned as she dug her nails in hard, impaling
my trapped nipple. i was squeeling in pain and bliss, feeling her beautiful
nails on my nipple. i was squeeling louder as she dug harder. Damn i had to
pee, and with a raging hardon it was even more uncomfortable. i looked at her
digging long fingernails, driven in by her pretty longish strong feminine
fingers, and my groin was contracting, trying to hold back both cum and pee.
She started pushing her long nails downward as well as in really turning up the
pain as she stared darkly at me.
"I do LOVE torturing you!" she moaned as she impaled her 3" nails to
the bleeding point into my nipple. i was seeing stars in pain and i started
peeing my pants. i was trying to hold back but the intense pain/pleasure
stimulation was too much. My legs were trembling as she continued increasing
her torture, saying, "Oh slave your little male nipple is so small compared to
mine...... .....ooooohhhhh yesssss......I could dig yours right off with my
nails!" She slipped her left suspender off, showing off her big hardened silver
dollar nipple, and glared at me while saying, "My nipples are sooo hard from
torturing you". The trickle of urine was now a flood, soaking my pants as i
stood trembling before her. Damn she was sexy and i noticed her beautiful big
brown nipple despite my tourtured state. Tears were in my eyes as her nails
continued digging into my poor nipple, making my blood run down my chest. She
looked at my soaking pants, and my obvious still peeing hardon, and shook her
pretty head.
"You men just can't control your worm! Look at you, you just pissed
yourself," she was really enjoying herself, and she now slowly raked her red 3"
fingernails down my chest hard, scratching wide pink welts that quickly welled
up with blood. "Ouchhhh Mistressss.....i'm sorry i have such a lack of
control," i cried to her. i was crying from feeling her nails slowly rake my
chest open, but i was seriously loving it also, watching as her curved red
feminine weapons pulled down me, tearing my skin open. "This is sooo much
fun...Look at what I'm doing with my nails," she cooed as she outspread both
hands on my chest and slowly clutched me, squeezing her nails in. She has such
a smoldering look on her face as she tightened her grip, sinking her 3" curved
fingernails into me drawing blood again. "Ooooohh Mistressss....." i cried to
her feeling her claws on my body. "Damn I love this," She moaned as she dragged
her nails down a little, tearing me making me cry out some more. She was
looking at the damage she had done and smiled, then released me. "I think I
like my nails square tipped, the don't sink in as easily so I can really feel
your skin and flesh trying to resisit me, but then I dig a little bit harder
and it feels wonderfull!!" she enthuesasticly said.
She slipped her suspender back on, covering her nipple, and then shoved
me to the floor. i was laying on my back looking up at her and she looked so
superior. She placed her right shoe, the toe platform, atop my bladder and
pushed. i flexed my abdominal mussles to try to resist, but she quickly
overpowered me and pushed down harder making me moan. "I can't have you pissing
yourself tonight, so I'm gonna squish out that last little bit," she said as
she flexed her sexy tanned legs nearly standing on my bladder. i was moaning in
pain as it felt like she would burst or crush me beneath her sexy perched feet.
Despite having cut her toenails short to wear her many other styles of shoes,
they were so cute and sexy and polished the same dark red as her fingernails. i
released and resoaked my pants beneath my Crushing Catwoman Mistress, and she
had a look of pure enjoyment on her sultry face. "I like seeing you under my
feet, knowing how I could crush you like a pathetic bug," she said while
pushing and grinding her shoe into my pelvis. She walked to my side and then
stood atop my chest and shifted much of her weight to her tall 7" spike heels,
instantly putting tremendous pressure on me. i was moaning and grunting from
the pain and pressure as she said, "Now I want you to quickly shower up and
come back to the kitchen." She then strutted off of me and to the kitchen, her
awesome curvy tan gams loudly clicking her high heels as she moved, and i
thought "Damn i'm a lucky guy."
i quickly got into the shower, scrubbing my mean looking wounds clean.
Sometimes she uses her Catwoman healing powers to heal me when she does severe
damage, but these scratches she'll make me live with, and i love wearing her
markings. Once clean, i put on a pair of clean jeans again, and raced back to
the kitchen, expecting to cook for her. Well this time she was cooking some
stir fry shrimp, as she wanted to eat lite, and she was being kinky.
"Look, I've got the freshest shrimp," she said with a big wicked smile.
They were live shrimp she bought at the market, about 2 dozen. i watched
intently as she prepaired them. "First you need to remove their head," she
said. She then held the struggling creature in one hand, and with the other
hand she took her thumb and index nail and slowly pinched behind his head. Oh
my.....Seeing her 3" long red curved talons do this was a mind blower! Her
wicked red 3" fingernails were slowly digging into the poor little guy, as he
struggled helplessly. Grewsome cracking and flesh tearing noises eminated as
her long nails severed his head! She dropped the tail into the wok, and the
still twitching head and legs onto the counter top. She then placed another on
the cutting board and placed the squared sharp tip of her index nail onto his
head and slowly drove her hard long sexy fingernail down. The poor shrimp
struggled as she slowly dug him in to! i was rock hard watching her. The next
one she put on the cutting board and she placed her nail tips all along his
body and just sank them in. "Oh my poor little slave, my little victim!" she
said as her sexy talons made more cracking destructive noises as she dug them
into the creature. She then lifted the impaled creature infront of her face.
She looked so wicked, holding up her long red nails with the poor twitching
creature
skewered on them, her beautiful face glaring smugly at him as she said,
"Oooops...I guess I didn't do this one right, oh well", and she then outsptread
her talons, pulling the creature apart into 4 chunks stuck to her deadly claws!
"Now I've really destroyed the poor little guy, and I loved it," she excitedly
said, and quickly flung his remains into the sink. "Well what do you think
slave, practice for when I have a "bad guy" to terminate?" she said. "Yes,
excellent practice Mistress, you are blowing my mind....." i said awestruck.
"Good slaveboy, now lie at my feet so I may finish prepairing our meal," she
said.
i was laying on my side watching her, and listening to the sounds of
her nails tearing and digging the shrimp in half. Then i was looking up and
down her incredable legs, so feminine and curvy and toned. Just then she
dropped a shrimp head to the floor and placed her tall heel atop him.
"Crackkkkk....Squishhhh" his head went when she flexed her leg mussles. i was
staring at the sceen of her 7" high heel impaling this shrimp head when she
dropped a big whole one! Despite his frantic flapping, she placed her towering
spike heel atop his head and, while humming along like she didn't even notice,
slowly stood on him. Her sexy high heel dug in harder and deeper cracking and
crushing right into him. His body folded up slightly as more of her femininty
bore down atop him, and she then just stood there on him. i remembered what it
was like having her stand on me, then thinking how kinky this was, having this
huge Mistress not even noticing the little slave she was killing under her
heel. i began kissing her tan ankle as she still stood atop him and i said,
"Catwoman Jessica, you are truly the most awesome mean Mistress!!" She looked
down and smiled and then placed the toe part of her shoe on him and slowly
crushed him, making popping and squishing sounds, then said, "Why thank you
slave, I think I'm an awesome Mistress because I enjoy it soooo much! Perhaps
you'll be getting a similar treatment tonight!" Gulp! This was going to be a
long torturous night! She de-headed the rest of the shrimp, and dropped their
heads to the floor to enjoy using her serious spike heels on as she walked back
and fourth to the refrigerator, getting vegtables and such. i stayed a few feet
back so she could work un-hindered, waching her sexy legs and feet and shoes
walk back and forth occasionally crushing or impaling a little victim. "Well
our lite dinner is done, you may sit at the table," she sweetly said.
The meal tasted great, and the shrimp was excellent. As i ate i loved
watching her eat, her lovely tanned hands and 3" curved red fingernails wrapped
around the fork, her sexy mouth with dark red lipstick, just awesome. Some of
the shrimp she'd pluck with her talons and give them a wicked look as she'd
squeeze her claws into them, nearly pinching them into pieces, then pop them
into her sexy mouth. "Oh they taste so good! I'll have to do these little guys
up more often," she said. Then she impaled a big one on her ring nail and said,
"Here, for you slave." It felt so good wrapping my lips around her long red
talon, pulling the tidbit of flesh off. i love it when she allows me to kiss
and lick her nails. "Well I bet you're wondering why I was eating a lite
dinner, and why I was so mean to those poor little defenceless shrimp. Well I
feel like getting REALLY wild and sexy tonight, like going out for some wild
dancing at the club, so I can rip at you on the floor, and when I'm all wound
up, make wild violent love to you. I'm sure you are into it.....If I rip you to
near death, you know I'll fix ya..."
Well it would be pretty damn painfull, but i knew i would be in for
some extreem nail action so i quickly said, "Yes!!!! i'd love to do that!" She
had me wear a simple pair of black jeans and a colorfull button up shirt. She
was dressed up wearing a black leather studded jacket that was kinda short
showing off her belly button, black laced up leather panties, and 7" spike
heeled wide toe strap sandals with 2" toe platforms and ankle straps . She was
plain naked underneath that jacket! "Very sexy Mistress Jessica!!!" i
entuasticly said. Her smoldering green eyes flaired at me as she gripped my
cheek with her curved 3" weapons and said, "Oh you say the nicest things to
your mean Catwoman." She continued squeezing her long nails into me, till i was
moaning and had blood oozing cresent wounds on my face. "Ohhhh yesss I like
that look, the poor Why-does-my-Mistress-hurt-me-so-much look," she said
wickedly. She released me and we hopped into her RX7, and sped off for the
club.
Once at the club, we each had a quick drink and headed for the dance
floor. i was walking behind her loving the view of her curvy strong feminine
legs perched atop such wicked mean shoes. i also noticed people looking at how
she was dressed showing off her cleavage, legs, and intense 3" red talons. i
was just going to watch her at first, so i pulled up a bar stool near the dance
floor. She really had the sexiest moves, flexing her legs, gyrating her hips,
and all her long hair flopping about. And the way she moves her hands, fingers,
and long talons, wiggling them in the air, and bringing them to her pretty
face, blowing me a kiss......so awesome! And her sexy feminine stance atop her
7" high heels, so solid and gracefull, her powerful legs moving with ease. She
was attracting a lot of attention, guys checking her out, her body and her
nails. i over heard an older couple, the woman saying, "Look at her nails, it
looks like she could tear you to pieces with them, and I bet she gets her way
with claws like that." Just then Jessica called out to me, "Oh slave boy....."
The woman looked at me and i just smiled as i walked out on the dance floor.
Jessica could dance circles around me but i tried to keep pace. She was
grinding up to me, really pressing herself sexily against me, and using all
opportinities to scratch at me. Her hands were on my waist and i felt her
squeeze her claws in. She moaned as i cried out, "ouch, ohhh honey......" and
she pulled her nails towards my gut tearing my shirt. The song picked up pace
and she was waving her arms around, taking painfull swipes at me, ripping the
shirt over my chest, drawing mean red welts on my skin. i could tell some
people were staring but they wern't too surprised as many Mistresses come to
this club. i was hard as a rock seeing her sexy body move powerfully and
suggestively. This song was ending and a slower one started.
i put my arms around her waist and she placed her hands on the back of my neck.
"So you like my mean dancing?" she asked as she dug her long fingernails into
my neck. "Oh yes, you look so wild, ouchhhhh, your nails are so awesomly
painfull, ohhhhh...ouchhhhh" i whimpered to her. She then slowly pulled her
right hand nails down my back, slowly tearing 4 rips into my shirt and also
clawing my skin. She was pressing her nails in hard as she pulled them down to
my ass as she said, "Damn I'm getting really wound up." i over heard that woman
again saying "Look at her use thoes nails?! She is actually tearing fabric with
them." i smiled again at her from hearing their comments and from the feeling
of her scratching nails as i love it, despite the fact that she will get much
more
painfull. Then she stepped on my foot with the toe part of her shoe, really
putting crushing weight on my foot. "Ohhhh honeyyyy....." i cried out to her as
i began kissing her.
She was really into the kiss, digging her nails into my back and
crushing my foot as our tongues inter-twined. We popped apart and i said, "Damn
Mistress Jessica, you're so hot......And you're really really in a mean mood,"
i said. She smiled and placed her tall 7" spike heel on my foot and slowly
stood on me saying, "Yes, yes I am, and I really want to be sexy and mean." Her
high heel was digging in beautifully and she added the pain of her nails again,
sinking them into my sholders. i was in such a state of pain and bliss,
pre-cumming in my pants as our slow song ended. We desided to sit down in a
booth, and noticed quite an audience staring at us as we walked off the dance
floor. Her leather jacket was nearly unzipped so her big DD cup breasts were
showing but i know most of them were watching her mean feminine nail action.
We started were making out, as she gave me permission, and were kissing
passionately. i began gently fondaling her breasts, and she was digging her
nails into my back and sholders. She was moaning in wicked passion as she hurt
me more and more with her destructive 3" long curved fingernails. i was really
hurting but still loving it, carressing her sides and back and tight ass as we
continued kissing and she continued slowly impaling me. We stopped kissing for
a moment and i looked into her eyes, all i saw was burning animal desire. Her
sultry eyes flaired as she dragged her claws down my back hard, tearing both me
and my shirt. i whimpered from the pain yet more precum welled up in my pants.
i was so turned on by her. And it was so kinky knowing she was completely
turned on by using her nails and feminity to hurt me! i was getting pretty torn
up, my shirt was trashed and my skin raw and someplaces bleeding. "I know we
just got here, but I want to go and have a serious pain session.....I do enjoy
inflicting pain on you so!" she said clenching her nails into my groin. Man her
nails hurn even through thick jeans. i said o.k. and we walked out, with her
strutting her body to all the onlookers.
Once we were in the parking garage, i loved the way her high heels clicked
loudly. She also started clicking her nails loudly as well, turning herself on
even more as i got more intimidated and turned on as well. Once we were at the
car, she said, "I think you need to kiss my feet now....Get over here and start
grovelling and kissing." i quickly fell to my knees and bent down kissing my
Catwomans red polished toes, then a few minuites later started kissing and
licking her high arches. She moaned out in her pleasure and said, "You try to
be such a good boy, but I'm gonna intensely punish you anyway, as I love it
so." i was worried that she was going to be very extreem yet i was still very
into it, and kept worshiping my Mistresses perched feet. She then pulled back
and kicked me in the ribs saying, "O.K. slave, on your back, now quickly!" she
ordered kicking me again and again. "Oooofff! ouchhh! Yes Mistress1" i said and
quickly laid at her feet.
She then stood atop my chest really digging her tall 7" heels in hard. "Oh
yeah, does that hurt when your Mistress DIGS her heels in, I love having you
squirm! I'm getting so excited," she said as she completely unzipped her
leather jacket top! She was standing on me basicly topless in a parking garage!
She squeezed her huge nipples with her killer 3" curved red claws, kneeding
them with wanton desire. "Now clean my shoes, lick the soles and heels now!"
she said as she pressed her right foot on my face. She was grinding her shoe on
my face as i tried to lick it clean, and she made sure to rake and dig her
spike into my forhead a few times. Damn she looked so terrific as i stared up
her curvy tan leg and saw her big looming breasts, watching her long red
fingernails caress and squeeze herself. Then i could hear footsteps and before
we could react, there was that couple, that woman! "Oh my, look at
them.....Whad did I tell you about her, I knew it," the woman said to her
husband. i just waved, and so did Jessica, in a surprises but not shy way.
Jessica turned back to me and continued really sinking her heels into me,
making my cry out in suffering. The couple just continued on their walk out.
"Just you wait till we get home, then you'll feel my much more sensual and more
PAINFUL 3" red fingernails," she cooed as she raked her car top, making a hiss
sound like a chalk board would. She was glaring down at me, one of her 7" heels
on my forehead and one on my chest, digging them in harder still, loving the
suffering she inflicts on me. She then zipped her top back up a bit, and
gracefully lifted her impaling high heel from my head and stepped down off my
chest. We then hopped in her car and sped home.
Once home she led me to the sofa, and she sat down and pulled me down
making me fall to the floor. She had me sit facing her, with her feet, and high
wicked heels, between my legs. She then began playing with my face, stroking
forcefully at my cheeks, and sometimes down my forehead and eyes. Her stroking
became harder and meaner, raising stinging welts. i was moaning mainly in bliss
as i love her claws! Then she placed her feet on my crotch, with her 7" high
heels squarely against my ridged shaft! She slowly pushed her wicked high heels
in, flexing her perfect strong legs driving her spikes in harder and harder,
while still pawing my face! "Your cock seems to be about like that big poor
shrimp, even bigger and juiceier!" she said as she really put some awesome
force on her heels. "Ouchhhh Mistress!!!" i cried feeling her heels hurt my
cock. She clawed at my face harder, covering me completely with red hot sore
welts. She giggled in her fun, and said, "Now lick my sexy claws, suck on
them." i did so, and was loving it. i truly love licking her feminine 3" red
curved fingernails, running my tongue all over her nails. i would suck tightly
as she pulled them from my lips, loving the sharp cutting sensation of her long
nails underside edges. But i was in intense aching pain as her legs weight
continued to rest atop her spike heels atop my poor dick! She again flexed her
gorgouse gams impaling her tall spike heels into my poor cock, making my cry as
i continue licking her long nails. "Oh I just want to rip you to RIBBONS! Get
up here on the sofa!" she finally ordered.
i sat on the sofa, in the corner of it, and she began pressing
herself against me, madly kissing my face. Then she arched her back as she
removed her jacket, revealing her awesome 36DD tanned breasts, and allowed me
to carress them! Man her breasts felt so good, so warm and firm. Then she
burried my face between them while squeezing her long nails into my scalp. i
kissed and licked her breasts, making her moan and dig her nails in harder. i
was loving this bit of gentleness feeling her big feminine brests while still
getting the thrill of feeling her sink her nails into my scalp. "My I could
suffocate you with my big tits if I didn't let you back up for air, pinning you
against my breasts with my wicked talons," she said as she dug her long nails
in harder and harder. This gentle situation was turning mean and turning us
both on. i was wimpering into her chest as she carved her claws in very hard,
making me feel the incredable pain of her claws. She then placed her talons on
my sholders as she slid down me and again we kissed passionately, with her
gripping her nails into me the whole kiss. After a long probing kiss she
gripped my shirt and pulled it apart completely off of me. She then placed her
hands on my chest and started slowly clenching up her fingers. This sent her 3"
red talons slowly sinking into my chest. Her gorgeous hands and NAILS were
really turning me on as i felt them digging in harder and harder. The sight and
feeling was blowing my mind! "Oh I just LOVE this!!" she moaned as she pulled
her claws down my chest drawing mean scratches over my already very sore chest.
Her claw marks look so wicked and it really turns her on seeing what damage she
can do with those NAILS. She outspread and clenched her nails on my chest again
and raked harder still causing fresh bleeding scratches crisscrossing her
earlier markings really hurting me and making my dick ooze big time! i love it
when she gives me her feminine poor-baby-look as she rakes her long talons down
me again and again. She's moaning in her pleasure, loving the feeling of her
nails tearing my flesh, hearing my cries. "Oh yeahhhh......is your dick getting
hard slave? Am I intensely HURTING you with my beautiful 3" long red curved
fingernails, that are so strong and sharp and WICKED!!" she drawls out in her
sexy desire rich vioce as she forcefully carves and rakes her nails down again
slowly. i'm crying in pain yet more turned on and erect than ever! "Yes
Mistress Jessica, ohhhhh Mistress your nails hurt so much!! You're tearing me
apart!" i said.
"Oh I just lovvveeee destroying flesh with my feminine NAILS! Destroying
men with my TALONS!" she moans out as she just starts digging her claws in
sinking them deeper and deeper into my torn chest. Her nails are sinking deeper
into my chest cavity, loudly penetrating my ribs that are in her way. i am
screaming in pain, trapped in the taloned clutches of Catwoman Jessica, pinned
in the corner of her sofa. Through my tear filled eyes i watched as her
beautiful hands were clenched sinking her gorgouse 3" red curved fingernails so
deeply into my chest. My breathing became irratic as her claws impaled my
lungs, her nails an easy 2 inches into my chest. "Ohhhhhh," she moaned out as
she orgasmed, squeezing her nails in slowly to ALL 3 INCHES! i was crying and
coughing up blood as she tortured me in her orgasm pulling her talons down my
chest, her insanely strong sharp talons cutting and ripping down my ribcage,
making grusome cracking and clicking noises. "Ohhhh that was such a powerful
orgasm, and I'm still so hot, so turned on for another..." she said glaring
crulely at me. "Mistress Jessica, i love you and our nails.....You are killing
me......" i cried to her. My dick was still so hard and wet.....i couldn't
beleve i was ready to cum still! i'm nearly dead!
"Oh your poor face," she wantonly says as she puts her hands on my face. i
plead for mercy as she slowly pulls her sexy nails down my cheeks drawing mean
scratches. Her glare is full of selfish desire as she rakes my face very hard
slicing my cheeks open. i'm crying in pain and fear, still begging for mercy.
"Is your Mistress HURTING you? Am I too rough, too extreem?" she moans out in
her extreem excitement and bilss as she pulls her claws down my face again and
again, raking me to bloddy shreads. Then she places her hands on my bloody
cheeks with her nail tips resting on my temples. She slowly squeezes my face,
digging her awesome claws into my temples. She moans as she digs harder and
harder, sinking her sharp claws deeper and deeper into my head, into my skull.
i'm in such pain, still weakly crying to her for mercy and for her to let me
live. Her moans become louder as she orgasms again, really driving her claws
in. As her fingernails impale against my yielding cracking skull, she places
her long curved thumbnails on my eyes and slowly drives them in! i'm crying out
,"NO NO PLEASE," as she glares at me with her fluttering eyelids in her
blissful orgasm. My vision is now totally blurred as her strong wide thumbnails
drive into my eyes, one eye getting totally impaled, the other having the nail
drive to the side. "Ohhh yesss, I'm sinking my thumbnail so DEEPLY into your
left EYE!! I love feeling it pop, as I drive my nail in harder! Oh this feels
sooo good!!!" she moans as she digs her right thumbnail completely through my
eyeball!! i'm in such a nail toutured state that i explode in waves of cum in
my pants, exploding from feeling my orgasming Catwoman dig her claws into my
face and eyes! Her beautiful thumbnails destroying my sight, her fingernails
impaling through my temples! We were both screaming in intense
sexual orgasm!
"Oh yessss I love this, feeling my 3 inch fingernails impale your face,
feeling my thumbnail impale your eye! Feeling your flesh's resistance as I dug
my beautiful nails in deeply," she enthuasticly said, staring at me seeing all
the damage she did. i was hardly there, breathing getting short and only seeing
her through one blured eye. i screamed as she withdrew her long fingernails,
and
felt blood pouring from the wounds. "Mistress....Please fix me, i'm barely
alive," i managed to say, my lungs half collasped and chest torn open to my
belly. "But I want you to really realise the power of my nails, the intense
damage and pain I can inflict with them," she said. i laid there weasing,
slowly fadeing. "Oh alright already, I just love seeing what I did with my
nails," she said as she began her mystical healing powers. In a matter of
minuites i was completely healed, thank God!!! "Just be glad I don't make you
wear my markings when I make them this WICKED!" she said.
THE END
Cat Woman part 4
writtem by: M.C. e-mail address:
cooper@rclsgi23.eng.ohio-state.edu
i will never forget when it all changed, i mean everything dealing with women
and their men. ever since that female scientist made her discovery and also
became president, women have had total power over men. her genitic research
made all women at least 10 times stronger than males, and for the women into
it, their fingernails 10 times stronger as well. this resulted in many women
growing their nails easily to 3 inches, and these feminine nails had the
power to penitrate wood, beer cans and the flesh and bone of their male
victims. men are total slaves to their women, and are often abused terribly.
i was the property of a sexy buxom woman named Donna. i considered myself
lucky to be hers. she could be very wicked at times but i could tell she
liked me, her slave. Donna was taking me to an S&M scene bar with her two
wicked friends. this bar was so mean that women could purchase criminal-case
males for the sole purpose of brutally torturing them to death with their long sharp fingernails! sometimes the woman would kill him in the middle of the dance floor with all the female patrons cheering her on. it was summer so i only had on shorts and shoes. Donna was wearing a black mini skirt and a black leather bra constraining her tanned D cup womanly breasts, and wicked strappy 5 inch spike sandals. Her legs looked so curvy being perched in her heels. Her two friends, Lisa and Jen, were wearing similar revealing feminine outfits, Lisa in red and Jen in white and black. They both had on mean 5 inch spike pumps. My Mistress Donna's nails were so sexy being at a mean 3 inches long with a medium downward curve with squared tips that were very sharp! Lisa's nails curved a little more and were needle-pointed and Jen's were a bit straighter and sported semi-pointed sharp tips. Both girls nails were also very close to 3 inches long.
We were quite a sight, all three of these wicked women strutting along,
clicking their heels loudly on the sidewalk at the bar enterance. Then they
started clicking their nails, oh man was it sexy and loud. Lisa and Jen had
decided to purchase a "tourture toy male" and were laughing through their
conversation of how badly they were going to use their nails on him. i was
just glad Donna had taken a liking to me. Once inside we got a booth and
ordered drinks.
Donna had her flawless clear polished left hand nails on my sholder and
as she chatted she was digging them in slowly for her enjoyment. Her hands
and nails were so beautiful, watching and feeling her dig them in was making
me hard. As Donna began digging real hard she was saying, "Well girls i like the idea of having a more permenant slave." i was whimpering as she then traced her right hand nails around my mouth and having me lick the tips. She then began pulling her right hand nails down my chest as she continued, "That way you can train them and have them do all the crap around the house. Besides, I've always got him when I'm horny or pissed to rip up whenever I feel like it." She was really hurting me now with her nails, drawing nasty oozing scratches all over my chest.
"Yeah, but you've gotten soft by hanging onto him. You just don't feel
like exersizing your full female rights of dominance.....You know....Ripping
him till he can't even walk or just finding a total jerk male and digging
your nails in till death," Lisa said with Jen smugly noding.
"Oh yeah, we'll see," Donna said as she ordered me to get under the
table. "Service our feet, male!" she yelled. As i began to lick my Mistress'
sexy sandals i hear, "NO me FIRST.....NO meee FIRST!" They all began jabbing me with their stiletto heels very hard, making me cry and be basicly useless at cleaning their shoes. They were angry and all stomped down on me crushing and pinning me to the floor, crying for mercy. Their forcefullnes made me very aware of their extreem strength as well as making my poor male body crack and bleed."You see, he has failed us and you.....I think you should get rid of him," Jen said. Donna ordered me back to my feet, and when she saw how dirty i was as well as all the blood from their heels, ordered me to clean up
quickly in the bathroom.
When i returned, i sat next to Donna and she began roughly stroking my
face with her sexy clear polished nails. "I'm a bit disapointed in you," she
said as she was now stroking hard enough to slice and tear my face open. i
couldn't help but whimper my pleas for forgiveness. She slowly ripped her
long fingernails in harder as she said, "My meanness is for your own good, an
incompitant slave is no good to me, perhaps i've been to soft." my God her
nails hurt and were ripping me to ribbons but i loved her and her nails and
her sexy powerfull femininity. as i pleged my total servitude to her she
moved her nails to my chest, raking them down all the way to my belly. She
then clutched my chest with her nails just lightly dimpling my skin. i was staring at her nails, they looked so pretty in such a threatening pose. She began flexing her sexy hands sinking her claws slowly into my flesh. "Oh yes, I do love feeling my nails dig into your body, all a girl like me has to do with nails like these is squeeze," she said impaling her nails in deeper drawing more blood. i was whimpering, then crying from the pain as she dug them in very deep, but was very excited as well. Then she began pulling her nails down my chest with them dug in nearly an inch. i screamed in pain and for mercy as she raked her talons slowly down a few more inches really opening me up. She was grining wickedly as she licked her lips and moaned in a wanton feminine way. "Oh I just truly love hurting my slave with my long feminine fingernails and besides, sometimes the only way to make a male listen is with pain," she said in a esire rich voice. She placed her sandal spike heel on my foot while saying, "Well you had better get your act together, am I making myself clear?" as she squeezed herlong sexy natural 3 inch nails into my bleeding chest while impaling my foot under her flexed leg. Despite the pain of her nails and 5 inch stiletto heel, i continued my plege and also complmented on how the natural beauty of her nail is so well shown off by her clear nail polish. "Thats better.....My slave,"
she said releasing me. We turned our attention to her girlfriends on the floor dragging a scared ex woman murderer.
Lisa and Jen stopped close to our table so we could see the show. i felt
Donna nails digging into my back as she watched in anticipation. "So you were
once a real tough guy, beating your wife to death....." Jen said loudly. "No,
please have mercy, please, please,........" the bastard kept saying. Lisa was
holding his head back as Jen said, "Well she would have had a better chance
if you couldn't see her." Jen outspread her right hand long feminine weapons
over his nose and eyes while tightly gripping his forehead with her left,
causing her nail tips to cut into his head. Jen then began pushing her nails
into hid eyes making him scream and try to close his eyes. "Men are so stupid, you think your eyelids will stop Jen's nails?!" Lisa said while begining to queeze her very curved claws into the side of his head and ears. He was giving a gut wrenching cry as Jens nails dug deeper into his destroyed eyes. "Oh I love how easily my nails push right into your eyes and head, it was worth the ten bucks to buy you. I love digging my nails in real deep, the feeling of my nails sinking in is pure BLISS!!!!" Jen said loudly making all the watching women moan and holler.
This poor-but-not-inocent male was quivering in shock, blood pouring from
his eye sockets and the sides of his head. Jen was moaning as she dug her
nails in all 3 inches into his eye cavitys and then curled them towards his
brain. "I see you want to finish him," Lisa said now pouring on the pressure,
digging her curved 3 inch red talons into the side of his head harder causing
loud racking noises as her feminine long fingernails penitrated his skull. "Oh yesssss, this is bliss," Lisa said feeling her nails press in all the way. i felt sorry for this asshole, but seeing these two sexy women using their strong fingernails was awesome! Jen had withdrawn her nails and was now raking his face to pieces, then ripping very deep bloody gouges from his chin down his neck and to his stomach. Lisa's left hand curved talons were pulling up handfulls of hair, flesh, and skull bone while she held him up with her impaled right hand.
Finally, the two woman dropped the bloody male mess to the floor and were
teasing each other saying, "You got to do more ripping than I did, and you
got to kill him as well.......Well next time you can rip him to death, you
want me to pay you your half back?"
The women wanted to leave now, and Donna was horny and wanted to get
home. We got up and as we walked across the dance floor Donna stopped and
looked at him. She then shrugged her sholders and placed her perched
sandal-heel clad foot atop his groin and pushed down very hard while twisting. "Squish, Snapp!" went his ball sac and pelvis as she shattered them. "Nice touch," Jen said with a wicked smile. "Well I've never been as mean to a male as you two were, not YET anyway," Donna said while giving me a wicked stare.........Yikes!
-
Checkmate
" Checkmate "
written by: Mistress Candice
(edited version to comply with AOL regulations)
(snip, snip, snip....:(
She was 18 years young and yet she stood 6' tall and she was a
major distraction to everyone that could see her. I will never forget
the day she signed up for my class. By the way I am Mr. Lewis and
I used to teach psychology at the school that she attended. Her
name is Candy and she was a straight A student.....except for my
class. She deserved an A but I wanted her to do better as I knew she
was holding back her God given talent ( Her brain ) . She was
smarter than anyone I have ever taught. At 18 she was an expert in
almost every subject. Candy hated me for the b+ grade that I gave
her the first semester and one day after class my life would change
forever, here's what happened.........
It was 2: 55pm and class had just concluded for the day. Candy
was wearing 6" high heels and a leather mini dress that showed off
her firm young teenage tits with a glorious array of youth and sex
appeal. She had 3" long fingernails that she claimed she had been
growing since she was 14. Her hair was black and it was sort of
wavy. It dropped down over her back like a cape, it was very very
wicked looking for a Lady of 18. Candy always told me that she
wanted me to play her a game of chess and I said to her that she
would not like getting beat by me and so she called me a
coward. I was pissed off that she was bold enough to call her elder
of 20 years a damn coward so I said.."Tonight at my home, 7pm
sharp Candy" She smiled and said .."I wouldn't miss it for the
world Mr. Lewis ". At 7pm sharp I heard what sounded like a
thunderous roar on the door...I knew she had arrived. I opened the
door and there she stood. Dressed in what I would say is the
kinkiest outfit I have ever seen a 18 year old Female dress in. She
had on a black leather catsuit with full length arms, 7" spiked heel
boots that also donned silver spurs. Her nails were long and
polished black. She smelled great and her eyes looked deep into
mine as she said........."I am gonna beat you in chess and then I am
going to beat you in my own way as well." It was not uncommon
for Candy to play mind games with me and I thought that's what
she was doing this night too. I would not gratify her with a smart
remark as she would know she was getting to me. I simply said..
"Candy ..you look lovely as usual come in and I will
teach you how to play chess." She smiled and said..Let's do it hot
shot! We went into my game room and I had set the chess players
up in the starting positions, I did however grab a pawn of each
color and ask her to pick a hand. As fate would have it she picked
the hand that had her favorite color..BLACK....She laughed and
then sat down. For some strange reason Candy knew that I felt
inferior to her as she always looked down at me and sort of
smiled as though she was going to beat me up or something. I am
only 5'-7" and I hated how she did that to me. Once we were both
sitting I made my first move...Candy made hers..I made mine....
Candy made hers...as the game went on I found myself getting hard
watching her long black nails move the pieces. After about an hour
a grim reality set into my now amazed mind.....This dog gone
schoolgirl was about to beat a grandmaster at his own game. I could
not even believe it..I was in awe. I did not want her to have the
satisfaction of her saying checkmate so I knocked all the pieces off
the board and said.....You win Candy. She smiled and said.."I
always do". I said, "Now what?" She then stood up and what
happened next was the last thing I ever expected. She said........"Mr.
Lewis..I won and now you must serve my needs."..I was so turned
on at the power she had over me I actually agreed to serve her needs
.....not even knowing exactly what she meant by that. Before long I
was stripped naked and kneeling on the floor before this sexy 18
year old in a leather catsuit. I was willing to let her have me any
way she wanted me. My hands were cuffed behind my back and I
was totally helpless to anything she might do...I was very excited.
The first thing she said to me was, "B+"..next I felt my face start on
fire as she slapped me hard and cut my face up with her long kinky
nails. Her black nails were now black and red..red with my blood. I
was worried what she would do and I said, "Enough Candy." She
just laughed said...."You are mine tonight slime-ball and you
will pay for what you have cheated me out of." Next she kicked me
in the ribs with the point of her boot. I felt a rib crack and then
I fell onto the floor. She put her 7" heel in my crotch and said, "Beg
me for mercy bastard." I would not do that. She pressed harder..
"Pleasssee Candy I beg you..be merciful with me." She laughed and
sat in achair and then put her spurs to my mouth and said...
"LLLLLLLLLLLICK WORM!"......I licked her spurs very clean
and I was now hard again. Candy now said.."You screwed me over with
that b+ and now I am going to screw you over." Candy grabbed me
with her 3" sharp, kinky nails and marched me into the kitchen
where she then tied my ankles to chair posts and then tied my neck
to the front of the chair back. She walked outside and in a few
minutes she came back in wearing a huge black strap-on dildo. She
lifted my head up as far as she could and said .."Look slut." I was
horrified at what was next. She also had a wooden paddle in her
hand and I knew that hell was only seconds away. WHACK,
WHACK, WHACK.....I was screaming in pain as she laughed and
kept hitting me over and over for what seemed like an eternity.
Finally she stopped and said.."Well slut..beg me to let you lick my
dildo" ....I knew that I had to, so I did it. Then she got behind me
and scratched the skin off my back with her deadly nails. I felt
totally deranged now and could not understand how I was able to
achieve an orgasm under these conditions. Finally she untied me
and I thought that I would never know what sitting down meant
again. Candy knew she had my mind now and so she said.."Suck
my big rubber dildo again.... clean it bitch".....I did.......
Well, through the next semester Candy came over once a week and
punished me. I was in love with her kinky, sexy young girl power. Need
I say, Candy received an A+ as her final grade in my class. And also
received an A+ in Dominance, something I now know I will forever
hunger for till I die. I am her slutty little pawn bitch forever,
this I know!
THE END
<<< About the author>>>
The author of this story is Mistress Candice. Yes she is a beautiful
dominatrix, but she is also wealthy and in no need of money, so she
"doms" her close friends out of love and nothing more. the sessions
are very very painful for her friends, And yes, her "subs" love her
in return for the very same reasons. This lovely creature is not a
figment of someone's mind. She really does exist, and lives in the
state of Colorado. Here is how she describes her physical appearance:
I have brown eyes. I am 145 lbs. 38 years old. Long black naturally
curly hair, sort of waved actually, I call it curly. I am 6' tall
barefoot. My fig is 35c-27-37. I am Swedish and German. I have
been told that I should be a model. ( The hell with that now, but
I know I could have been one if I wanted to ...probably still could I
look 30 ) I have full lips and high cheek bones. My eyes are very
sinister looking but they are also beautiful all at once. They are
large eyes but not too large. My nose is small and points upward.
I have a long neck and I wear a size 10 pump. That's about right
for my 6' structure. My hands are long and my fingers are also long.
My nails are real and 3" long and have been for a long time. They
are semi curled and I always paint them red or black. They are not
pointed but are semi curved on the tips. My toenails are long and
curl over the tops of my toes but do not go under the toe I do trim
them when they start to look uneven and start over.
-
Chrysalis
Chrysalis…by R. Starkweather
Life was racing too fast for John. He had turned eighteen and graduated from high
school, got himself a job working construction over the summer to save for tuition, and
now here it was already September and his first day of community college. He wished he
couldve gone away to school like most of his friends, but there wasnt the money, and he
had neither the grades nor the athletic ability to earn a scholarship. He imagined hed be
younger than a lot of his female classmates in community college, and he was right.
Most of the women in his first three classes that day were in their early to mid twenties,
quite a few were married and/or had children, and those who werent looked at him with
obvious lack of interest. Aside from being only eighteen, John was a young-looking
eighteen at that. By the time he walked into his last class of the day, he was tired and a
little depressed and not really paying much attention to anyone else.
But then he saw a girl with her arms folded on her desk, resting her head like she too was
exhausted and depressed. All John could see of her was her hair, long and naturally
blonde, draped over her arms and back. She looked no older than him, and he wondered
what her face looked like. Luckily there was an empty seat next to her, and John grabbed
it before someone else could. In doing so he scraped the chair on the floor, and the girl
picked her head up and looked in his direction. The sight of her face made John stop
breathing for a moment. She was angelically beautiful, with huge blue eyes and perfect
cheekbones and a small, delicate nose. And her mouth---oh my God---her mouth was
small but with the most succulent-looking lips John had ever seen. She stretched her
arms and yawned, then giggled and quickly apologized. "Hi," she said, in a soft, shy
voice that made John tingle like someone was stroking him with a feather. Her smile was
like sunburst after a storm. "Hi, Im John," John said, his voice cracking just a little,
which made him flush red. She didnt seem to notice either, and she shook back her
shiny blonde hair and said, "Im Sophie."
Class began, so the two of them couldnt continue their conversation. The instructor
assigned several chapters of reading and hinted that he liked to give pop quizzes, which
elicited groans from the class. John and Sophie glanced at each other, and she put her
book up in front of her to hide her hand from the instructors view, and gave him the
finger. John smiled, and she smiled back. After class, they walked out together. "Thats
a lot of reading!" John observed. "No kidding," Sophie agreed. "Im going to have to sit
out in my car I think," John sighed. "Why?" Sophie asked. John shook his head, "Well,
Im living at home, and between my Dad watching ESPN in the den and my mom
blasting the TV in the kitchen, and my brother practicing clarinet…" "That sucks,"
Sophie said. They walked for a little and then she said, "Um…if you want you can study
with me…I mean, at my apartment…well, actually its me and my sisters, but she works
nights. Its pretty quiet." "Oh wow, thats really nice of you," John said, "Uh…can I
pick up pizza or something?" "Sure. Cool," she said, with a shrug and smile and a little
toss of her head that sent her long, silky blonde hair shimmering in the late-afternoon sun.
With his heavy backpack over one shoulder, carrying a large pizza in one hand and a one-
liter bottle of Pepsi in the other, John stomped up the steps to Sophies 3rd-floor
apartment. He set the bottle on the ground and knocked on the door. When she opened
it, she seemed shorter than he remembered, and he looked down and sure enough it was
because she was barefoot. She had on pink toenail polish and she curled her toes and
scratched an itch on the opposite ankle. John thought what nice legs she had, but it didnt
surprise him considering she was very beautiful in general. "Come in," Sophie
beckoned, opening the door wider and stepping back. "I just got a plain pizza because I
wasnt sure of what you didnt like, and I didnt have your number to text you," John
said. "Plains fine. Actually, its perfect, cause Im vegetarian but not vegan," she said.
"Is Pepsi ok?" John asked, holding up the bottle. "Its great," she said, "Wait, before we
forget lets exchange numbers so we can text each other…you know, if we need to
sometime."
Sophie set the pizza on the coffee table in front of the couch, along with a couple plastic
tumblers for the Pepsi, and a little pile of napkins. Sophie took a piece of pizza and took
a bite, and when she pulled back a long strand of cheese followed her from the pizza
slice. She smiled and blushed and giggled while she chased it with her perfect mouth,
and when the pizza was done she licked her fingers. "Sorry about my manners," she
apologized. John smiled and furrowed his brow. "Pizzas not meant to be eaten with
manners," he joked. "Amen," she said, sucking her thumb quickly. John took notice of
Sophies hands for the first time...small hands with long fingers, very feminine. Her
nails, clipped short, were shiny from the pizza grease. "What?" she asked, splaying her
fingers and looking down at her front, "Did I get pizza sauce on me or something?"
"Huh? Oh…no…not…no, you didnt…youre fine…I mean, you dont have sauce,"
John stammered, feeling embarrased for getting busted staring at her. Sophie just
smiled, and then picked up her book, and she curled up at one end of the couch and began
reading. John sat at the other end and busied himself reading also. Each time Sophie
turned a page, it attracted Johns attention, and he cast a secretive glance at her with only
his eyes. She had an unconscious habit of playing with her toes while she read, and for
some reason John couldnt understand, he found it attractive. In fact, he began to
daydream about touching her feet, and it distracted him. He found himself reading the
same sentence over and over, and finishing an entire paragraph with the realization he
hadnt absorbed a single word. Just when he thought hed gotten it under control, Sophie
stretched one leg out and accidentally touched his. "Sorry," she apologized. "Huh? No,
its fine," John said quickly. "I hope my feet dont stink," she said. John leaned over and
made a sniffing gesture. "Nope," he said seriously. Sophie burst into laughter, "I didnt
mean you had to sniff!" Her laughter was like music that filled his head. John blushed.
"I like you," she said very quietly. "Me too," John said. "You like yourself?" Sophie
asked facetiously. "No…not me…I meant...," John stammered. Her musical laughter
rang out again, "I know." John sighed. They went back to reading silently. Suddenly
John heard her book slam shut. "Do you feel like taking a break?" she asked. "Sure," he
said. There was an awkward pause. John said, "Would you like some more Pepsi?"
Sophie shook her head. She scooted down the couch near John and smiled at him. Her
long blonde hair fell so it half-covered her face, and she combed it away with her pinkie,
but it fell back over her face and she giggled softly. John found himself lifting his hand
tremulously, reaching for her hair. She took hold of his hand lightly, brushing his palm
with her thumb. The sensation made John start to grow hard. He saw her eyes narrow
just a bit, her chin lift up ever so slightly, and she moved toward him just a little. Her
soft fingertips very gently touched his cheek, and he felt the touch of her tender,
succulent lips for the first time. It was a brief kiss, just a whisper of a touch, but she did
it again…and again. Each time she kissed a slightly different place on his lips. It was
maddeningly erotic and John was hard as a rock. In moments she draped her arms
around his neck and their lips came together in a long, lingering kiss. Sophie crossed her
arms in front of her and pulled her t-shirt up and over her head and off and she undid her
thin cotton bra. John stared lustfully at her perky breasts, which were just the perfect size
for her delicate frame. Sophie smiled and tugged Johns t-shirt up, and he took it off.
She closed her eyes and embraced him with her legs as well as her arms and they shared
another long kiss and the sensation of each others naked upper bodies. "Want to finish
studying, in my bedroom?" Sophie whispered.
Sophies skin was like velvet, her long blonde hair like spun silk. Her touch was tender
and gentle, and the kiss of her luscious, succulent lips was beyond anything hed ever
experienced before. It wasnt Johns first time in bed with a girl, but with Sophie he was
realizing for the first time the difference between sex, and love-making. Sophie was
unhurried, prolonging and savoring the pleasure of every moment. She caressed Johns
back with her fingers and his legs with her toes, gently, to the same slow rhythm of her
sensually undulating hips. She kissed his neck and throat and lips all the while, her eyes
closed, breathing deeply. There were no screams, no moans, no words. Several times
Sophie inhaled suddenly and held her breath and then softly whispered, "Ohhhhhhhhh,"
as she exhaled, each time followed by a long, sweet kiss. After John had cum he lay on
his back. Sophie rested her head on his chest, feeling herself rise and fall to his labored
breathing. He put his arm around her and pulled her close and they kissed. "Was it…I
mean, did you…?" he asked. Sophie flashed a contented smile and held up four fingers.
John smiled with satisfaction.
"Something tells me were not gonna get much studying done together this semester,"
John joked. "Would you rather study?" she joked back. "No," he said, and they both
laughed. Sophie traced her fingertips around on Johns chest. "It feels so weird," she
remarked. "Gee, thanks," he said sounding wounded. "Oh, no, its not you," Sophie
said, "I mean, it feels weird to feel with the tips of my fingers." John laughed, "Huh?"
Sophie said, "I cut my nails yesterday morning. For the first time since I was like fifteen.
Ive never touched a guys skin with my fingertips before." "Really? How long were
they?" John asked with interest. "They were kinda all different lengths, but mostly
like…," and she poised one forefinger about an inch and a half in front of the tip of the
opposite one. "Wow. Thats pretty long. But why did you cut them?" John asked.
Sophie shrugged, "I dunno. Everyone has short nails, unless theyve got fake tips or
something. Confession? I regretted it right away and I cried for like an hour." "So are
you gonna grow them back?" John asked. Sophie shrugged again, "Should I?" "Do you
want to?" he asked. "Kinda…," she said. "Then do it," he said. "Ok," she smiled.
Sophie curled her fingers and scratched his chest with her non-nails. "Mmmmm, that
feels nice," John sighed. "Just wait a few days," Sophie said with a delicious smile. "A
few days?" John said with surprise. "My nails grow super fast," she said. "I guess we
should study," John said. "Yeah, we should," Sophie agreed. Then they kissed and made
love again.
By the end of the week John could see that Sophie wasnt exaggerating when she said her
nails grew quickly. She already had almost an eighth of an inch, and he could see them
from underneath if she held her palms toward him. That Friday night she lightly
scratched his back while they made love, and when he moaned she laughed quietly and
whispered, "You like that, huh?" and did it a little harder. John squirmed. Later when
they were getting dressed, Sophie looked at Johns back and saw shed left marks and
drawn blood in a couple places, and she gasped and apologized, "Oh my God, I forgot
how sharp my nails are after just being cut! I mean, for like forever all I did was only file
them." "Its ok," John said. Sophie smoothed her hand over the scratches and kissed the
nape of his neck. He turned around and held her shoulders. "This is gonna sound
completely lame, but…Sophie? Do you believe in love at first sight?" he asked. "If
someone wouldve asked me that a week ago I wouldve laughed and said no," she
replied, and embraced him tightly, nestling her face in his neck.
In another week Sophies nails had grown to nearly a quarter inch. They were snowy-
white like french tips, and she hadnt touched them with a file so the corners were still
square. During sex one night Sophie moaned aloud when she came, and scratched his
chest. John was startled by the sting, and he glanced down. Each nail left two hair-thin
red lines, from each sharp corner. Sophie opened her eyes and her jaw dropped. "Oh,
baby, Im sorry!" she cried, looking at her nails, "Do you want me to cut them?" John
cried, "Hell y…" Sophies hands were poised in such a seductively feminine pose, with
her dainty fingers slightly curved, her nails so white and sparkling. The word yes stuck
in Johns throat, he was overwhelmed by desire for her. He took her hands and kissed
them and shook his head. "Are you sure?" she asked. He nodded. "Ok, I wont cut
them," she said, and licked her tongue slowly along his wounds while she stared up into
his eyes. "Maybe you could just file them a little so theyre not like razors?" he
suggested. "Now?" Sophie asked, with his hard cock still deep inside her, and she slowly
resumed undulating her hips. "No! Oh God! Not now! Later!" he gasped. "But what if
I scratch you again?" she asked, licking his ear. "I dont care," he moaned, "Just, please
dont stop." "Ok," she whispered, gyrating her hips a little faster and harder. John took
her cue and thrust into her with gusto. In the past with other girls, John always thought it
was a chore trying to last until the girl came, but Sophie came easily and multiple times,
and John actually enjoyed prolonging the sex, trying to see how many orgasms he could
give her before cumming himself. "Oh baby!" she sighed, and she inhaled deeply and
held her breath and her body quivered. John smiled for a second, until Sophie exhaled
with a long moan and clawed her nails over his back. It felt like someone had lit him on
fire. He nearly lost his erection, and he clenched his teeth together and held his breath so
he wouldnt cry out. But in a moment, Sophies succulent mouth was upon his, and the
sweet taste of her hot tongue soothed his jagged nerves. He gently held her hands back
against the sheet and continued thrusting until he came. After theyd cuddled for a while,
John got up, and Sophie let out a little scream. John turned around suddenly and she was
holding her hands over her mouth and her eyes were wide and filled with tears. John
checked his back in the mirror and he gaped in shock at the bleeding maze of bright red
scratches that scored his back. Sophie ran to the bathroom and returned with a damp
washcloth and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. John waved her off with bravado, but she
said, "It could get infected!" and made him lie face-down on the bed while she gently
cleaned the scratches, all the while making little plaintive sighs and whispering "Im
sorry," over and over. When she was done she immediately got a file from her nightstand
drawer and sat down on the bed next to John with her legs folded. He looked up at her
and held her arm. "Youre not going to make them shorter, are you?" he asked. "Uh uh,
Im just gonna round the sharp corners," she said. "Ok then," he said and let go of her
arm. "Wow, you really like my nails long, dont you?" she smiled. "Theyre sexy," he
said. "They arent even that long," she remarked. John craned his head over his shoulder
like he was trying to see his back. "How much longer are they gonna get?" he asked
timidly. Sophie laughed, "Actually, when theyre really really long I cant scratch as
hard, cause it hurts my fingers." "Oh!" John said brightly, "In that case, grow them super
long." "That was my plan," she laughed.
Filing the sharp corners off her nails prevented Sophie from slicing John open when she
scratched him during sex over the next couple weeks, but being that especially his back
was already tender and sore, it still hurt like hell and detracted from his pleasure. She
tried many times but was unable to control herself when she got turned-on, and
particularly when she climaxed, which was several times during every encounter.
"Maybe I could keep my shirt on?" John had suggested, but Sophie looked at him with
the saddest expression and said, "I like feeling you naked against me, baby." He also
tried holding her hands down, but she hated it. "I need to touch you, baby," she pleaded.
Sophie half-jokingly offered to put tape over her nails during sex until they grew out
enough that she couldnt press hard enough to cause pain. But the sight of Sophies long
fingernails turned John on so much that he rathered tough it out than have her cover them
up. "Its weird but I love how my nails have this, like, I dunno…sexual power?" she
confessed, while she poised her fingers and gazed at her nails, which were approaching a
half inch long.
The two of them spent nearly all their together-time in bed, which was fine with John, but
he was surprised that unlike any of the girls hed ever dated, Sophie never complained
that they rarely went out or did stuff together like other couples. Hed pick up pizza and
come to her apartment after school, but they never seemed to eat it any way but cold, at
around two in the morning, after several sessions of passionate lovemaking. Itd been a
couple months since theyd first met, Sophies fingernails were not quite an inch long.
True to what shed said she couldnt press as hard as before, and the pain wasnt as
severe as when theyd been shorter. John couldnt take his eyes off her long nails when
they were together, and he couldnt stop seeing them in his minds eye when she wasnt
around. John noticed that Sophie had started dressing more provocatively and wearing
makeup, especially her eyes, that made her even more alluring. And when they did go
out in public, she teased him unmercifully. She gestured her hands in slow, feminine
arcs when she talked, opening and closing her fingers, curving them and raking them
through the air. She tapped her nails on glasses and tabletops, and she licked them slowly
after she finished eating, all the while staring him sultry looks with her huge blue eyes,
her succulent lips slightly parted, occasionally licking them slowly around with the tip of
her tongue. In class together she would whisper things like, "I know my nails must be
making you horny as hell," and "I bet youre dying for me to scratch you." One time she
begged him to take her to a movie, and she sat them in the very last row, then once the
lights went out she started stroking his arm with her nails until she could hear he was on
the verge of hyperventilating, and then she reached into his lap and with one stroke of her
nails across the hard bulge in his pants, made him cum. "Shit, Im all sticky!" he
whispered. "So am I," she whispered back, "Lets go."
Out in the lobby there was one of those booths where you go inside and sit down and it
takes a series of pictures of you. Sophie dragged John to the booth, and he said, "Huh?
Cant we get our pictures taken some other time?" "Please?" she whined. John
shrugged, "Ok." Sophie closed the curtain and while John fished in his pocket for
money, she started pulling her top off. "What are you doing?" he asked, trying to pull her
top back down. "Dont you want a picture of us with my bare tits? I thought you liked
them," she said. "I do," John protested, "But…" Sophie pulled her top completely off
and sat on his lap and while the machine took pictures, she kissed him hotly and stroked
her long nails on his face. "Got some more singles?" she asked. "Um, yeah," John said.
"Stand up on the seat," she said. "Huh? Why?" he asked. "Just do it," she said. John
shrugged and got up on the wooden seat. He had to squat to keep from banging his head,
and Sophie quickly undid his pants and freed his dick. "What are you doing?" he
whispered. She put the dollar in the slot and as the machine clicked, Sophie stroked her
nails slowly over his dick making him hard. "Sophie, whats getting in to you?" John
whispered. "You, I hope," she said, pulling up her skirt. She raked his neck gently with
her long fingernails and put another dollar in the photo machine and whispered, "Quick,
lets do it!"
"Put your shirt back on!" John demanded, pulling his pants up. "Whats your problem?"
Sophie asked, annoyed. "My problem? Whats your problem?" he snapped. John
walked quickly to the door, with Sophie scurrying to keep up with him. They were silent
on the drive back, and when they pulled into her apartment lot, John kept the engine
idling. "Youre not coming up?" Sophie asked very, very quietly. "I dont think so," he
said. "Oh my God! Are you breaking up with me?" Sophie asked, her voice breaking.
She wiped her watering eyes, smearing her heavy eye makeup. "I dont know. I dont
want to. But youre different. Youve changed," John said, swallowing hard from the
lump in his throat. "I love you," she said, tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. "I
love you too," John said, his eyes reddening and beginning to tear. "So then wont you
please come inside and talk to me?" she said barely above a whisper, and she touched his
hand gently. John shut the car off and they went upstairs.
They sat facing each other on Sophies bed, unsure of who should start talking first.
Finally John began, "Sophie, in the beginning you were like this sweet, warm person.
Making love with you was…really beautiful and special. But youve changed. You talk
dirty in bed, you jerk me off in public…you take dirty pictures of us and try to get me to
fuck you in a photo booth…youre not the same girl I fell in love with." Sophie sighed,
"I know. Im sorry. I can fix it," and she reached into her nightstand drawer and pulled
out a little scissors and set the open jaws against her pinkie nail, right down by her
fingertip. "Wait…No! Dont! What are you doing?" John cried, lunging across the bed
and grabbing her hand away. "My nails are the problem," she said. "I dont understand,"
John said. Sophie explained, "I see how you look at my nails and I know how much they
turn you on, and it kinda brings out this wild side of me. Anyway, I thought you wanted
me to be like that. Im sorry. Let me cut my nails and go back to the way things were in
the beginning, ok? Please, John?" "Wait, are you saying you cant be the girl I fell in
love with unless you cut your nails off?" John asked. She said, "Well…I dunno…I just
thought…" "I really love your nails, and I dont want you to cut them. Ever!" he stated,
"I dont believe you have to. I dont believe letting your nails grow long made you into
somebody else. If anything it was the way I reacted to them, made you think I wanted
you to be somebody youre not. I believe the sweet girl-next-door Im in love with is the
real you. It has to be." "It is," she said, wiping her makeup off with a wad of tissues.
John gently took the scissors from her and put it in his pocket. "Im going to hide these
from you, just in case you ever get the urge to cut your nails again," he smiled. Sophie
giggled and blew her nose. She looked at her hands, turning them slowly and modeling
her extremely long sexy fingernails. "Hmm…sweet girl-next-door…with two-inch
nails," she pondered, then she smiled at John, "Why not? I can do that!" She took hold
of his hand lightly, brushing his palm with her long, sexy thumbnail. The sensation got
John hard as a rock in an instant. Sophies eyes narrowed just a bit, she lifted her chin ever
so slightly, and she moved toward him just a little with parted lips. She scraped her
feminine, two-inch long fingernails very gently and slowly across his cheek, and grazed her
tender, succulent lips against his. She left a soft kiss, teasingly brief, but she did it
again and again, each time touching a slightly different place on his lips. They shed their
clothes and intertwined their naked bodies, feeling each others heat. Sophie stroked
Johns legs with her bare feet, soft and warm, and she wrapped her legs around him. She
sighed quietly as he penetrated her, and she scratched his back tenderly. It was
maddeningly erotic. It was like it was the first time they made love, only ten times better,
now that she had ten long, sexy, feminine fingernails.
-
CRUISIN
CRUISIN by R. Starkweather
Tom and Vicki had pored over the enticing brochures for months before they settled on
this particular 3-day cruise to celebrate their 20th wedding anniversary and Vickis 40th
birthday. They anticipated a short but relaxing time filled with pampering, intimacy and
romance. But brochures are always optimistic. Tom and Vicki found themselves laying
out in deck chairs arranged in a row like canned sardines, with barely enough room
between them to get on and off. Pot-bellied husbands paraded back and forth in front of
them, whining and arguing with their lumpy-thighed wives, while scores of ill-behaved
children ran screaming and squealing, weaving around their parents stark-white legs.
Tom glanced at Vicki. She had her hair knotted up with an elastic band, face covered
with white sunblock, and was wearing a seasickness patch. Some romantic cruise this
was going to be, he thought. He looked at his wifes hands. Shed gotten fake nails for
the cruise, those pre-fab french tips. God they were gross, he thought. Tom recalled how
her real nails had been long when they met. Half an inch or so. Shed snipped them off
when she went into labor with their first of three children, and never grew them back.
Tom had always known he was into long nails, but he could never bring himself to tell
Vicki how much.
Vicki was engrossed in a paperback pulp novel, Tom was bored and thirsty. He decided
to go inside and have a cold drink, maybe a slice of pizza too. Like every other amenity
on that ship, there was a long line at the restaurant. He stood behind a couple of girls in
their late teens who were giggling and sharing private jokes with each other. The one
with straight brown hair laughed "Shut up!" and playfully shoved the other girl, who had
long, curly super-light blond hair, and she stumbled back into Tom. She looked up.
"Oops, sorry," she apologized, covering her mouth with her small hand. Right away Tom
saw she had very long fingernails, tapered and rounded, unpolished and definitely real.
The girl turned around and kept gossiping with her friend, who Tom noticed had pretty
hands, but short nails. He stole a glance at the floor and noticed that both girls were
wearing flipflops. The dark-haired ones toes were kind of plump, her toenails slightly
stubby, but carefully pedicured, and painted a frosty pink. The girl with blonde curls and
long fingernails had long, narrow toes with long nailbeds and unpolished toenails…and
very noticeable tips, a little over an eighth of an inch, slightly rounded, and crystal clear.
When Tom raised his eyes, they met hers. Her eyes were deep blue. She didnt look
away, either, just kept looking at him. She bit the corner of her lower lip. She had really
soft-looking lips. Tom swallowed hard. Surely she wasnt looking at him "like that", at
41 he was old enough to be her father, in fact, his own daughter was also eighteen and
thought any guy over 21 was geriatric. Sure, it was a cruise, she was just being friendly.
Tom smiled. The girl smiled back. She tapped her crystal-clear pinkie nail, three-
quarters of an inch long at least, against her straight, white teeth. "Im Markie," she said,
nibbling on her nail. "Tom," he said, offering his hand in a rather businesslike manner.
She didnt really take it, more like just touched her fingers against his palm and squeezed
lightly with her thumb, and then drew back slowly. He felt her warm, soft, damp fingers
and long nails slide against his fingers. It was a sensation he hadnt felt in years. He
could feel his dick stir, and he flushed. Markies dark-haired friend grabbed her arm and
whispered in her ear---loud enough that Tom heard---"What are you doing?!" "Oww!
Tina! Stop!" Markie whined, as her friend pulled her ahead to follow the hostess to their
table. Markie turned her head back toward Tom and waved her longnailed fingers. "See
ya round," she said with a little smile.
Tom stood in line another couple minutes before he was seated. He couldnt help scan
around the small room looking for the two girls. They were a few tables away, still
gossiping and giggling nonstop. Markie liked to gesture with her hands. The waiter
brought their plates, and Tom watched Markies hands with fascination as she used her
very long nails to pluck one french fry at a time from her plate and feed it into her mouth,
bite by bite. He watched her pink cheeks cave slightly as she sucked on a thick vanilla
milkshake, holding the straw delicately between her small fingers. She looked up and
their eyes met. Tom felt himself flush with embarrassment, expecting her to give him a
dirty look. Instead, the corner of her mouth upturned in a little smile, and she lifted her
longnailed pinkie from her straw and waved it at him. Her friend Tina saw and turned to
see who Markie was waving at, and when she saw it was Tom, he saw her give Markie a
little kick under the table and say something to her that made Markie giggle. The girls
finished their lunch before Tom, and as they left they passed by his table. "Bye, Tom,"
Markie said with a coquettish smile, tapping and sliding her fingernails across his table as
she walked by.
Tom couldnt get the thought of Markie out of his head. It was a huge ship, and he
figured he might not ever see her for the rest of the cruise. And that would be for the
best, he figured. Oh sure, he was attracted to pretty young women all the time, but there
was something different this time. Maybe it was that she seemed interested. Naaah. She
was just a hot eighteen year old getting her kicks teasing an older guy. She and Tina
were probably laughing their asses off by now. Tom found his way back to his wife and
lay down on the next deck chair. "Thanks for asking me if I wanted a drink," she said
facetiously. "Oh…jeez, Im sorry," he said, "What would you like?" "Nothing now,"
Vicki muttered, picking up her things and getting up, "Im going back to the cabin. I
have a headache." Great. Some romantic cruise this is going to be, he thought, again.
Tom closed his eyes for a moment.
"Was that your wife?" a girls voice said. Tom opened his eyes. It was her. Markie.
"Yes. Her names Vicki," Tom said. "Shes cute. Is she coming back?" Markie asked,
looking at the empty deck chair next to Tom. "No, she had a headache and went to lie
down," Tom replied. Markie sat down. "She gets seasick," Markie said. "Uh…yeah,
but howd you know?" Tom said. "I saw her patch," Markie said. "Oh, right," Tom said.
"I dont get seasick on cruise ships," Markie said, "Well, not unless Im really drunk."
"So this isnt your first cruise?" Tom asked. "Third," she said, "Me and Tina have went
on one every year since we turned 16." Tom pegged it right, she was eighteen. "Why
not a singles cruise?" Tom asked, "There arent many people your age on this one.
Mostly kids and older guys." "I like kids," Markie said with a sweet smile. Tom
laughed, "No, what I meant was…" "And older guys," she said, with a much different
sort of smile. Tom laughed, nervously. His brain told him to excuse himself politely and
leave, now. His dick told him to stay. His dick won.
Markie lay down on the deck chair and took her coverup off. She was wearing a tiny
two-piece thong bikini. She was a small girl, but everything was in the right place and
proportion. She started rubbing sunblock on herself. "Even with SPF 50 I can only lay
out a few minutes at a time," she complained, "Ive got really fair skin." Tom smiled in
acknowledgement. "Its the price of natural blondness…this is really my hair
color…see?" Markie said, bowing her head so that Tom could see her roots were the
same extremely light blond. "You have pretty hair," Tom said. "Thanks. You do too,"
she said. Tom laughed, thinking about his salt-and-pepper hair. "No, really," she said.
"Ive been thinking its getting time for me to start dyeing it," he said. "You shouldnt,"
Markie said, fixing her deep blue eyes on him, "Its really sexy." It wasnt that warm on
deck, but Tom was perspiring. He nervously broke eye contact with her and looked
forward. Markie wiggled her feet and giggled. "What?" Tom asked. "Tina says I need a
pedicure," she said. Tom pretended like he had to strain to see, although the tips of her
crystal-clear toenails were easily noticed. She swung one foot over onto his deck chair
and spread her toes. "Do you think theyre gross? I think theyre kinda sexy," she said.
Tom didnt really know how to respond, or if he should at all. Yes, he did indeed think
they were sexy, although that surprised him. "Now, if they were as long as my
fingernails, then that would be totally gross!" Markie giggled, spreading her fingers so
the light gleamed through her three-quarter-inch clear fingernails. "By the way," she
asked, "Do you like them?" Tom laid his newspaper over his trunks and squeezed his
erection between his legs, hoping it wouldnt show. "Theyre beautiful," he said.
"Thanks. Ive had them since I was thirteen," she said. "My wife used to have long
nails," Tom said wistfully, "But she cut them when she had our first baby." "Bummer,"
Markie said.
Markie turned on her stomach. "Um, Tom, could you?" she asked, holding the tube of
sunblock out to him. He hesitated momentarily. "Ill burn to a crisp and the rest of the
cruise will be ruined," she said with a pouty face. Reluctantly, and very cautiously, Tom
applied sunblock to Markies back. She reached her arm back over her opposite shoulder
and put her hand on Toms hand. "You can rub a little harder. Dont worry, you wont
break me," she said, lifting herself up on her elbow and turning her deep blue eyes on
Tom again. "Get my legs, ok?" she asked. Tom put sunblock on her calves, and worked
his way up her thighs. "Thanks," she said. "Youre welcome," he said, handing her back
the sunblock. Tom was feeling very confused and nervous, and yes, guilty, at that point,
and he started gathering up his things. "Tom?" Markie said, turning her face in his
direction. "Yeah?" he said. She said, "Do you want to come back to my cabin?" Tom
instantly flushed red-hot, his mouth was moving but no words were coming out. Finally
he managed to croak out a weak, "I cant." Markie smiled. She stood up, close to him,
ran her long fingernails along his arm. "I cant is so not the same as I dont want to.
But, whatever," she said, and left a tantalizingly-soft kiss on his neck, "At least come get
ice-cream with me. My treat."
As usual, there was a line at the ice-cream place. Tom ordered a chocolate cone. "Ill just
have a lick of yours," Markie said, walking her long fingernails up his arm. She led him
to a tiny table off in the corner. He sat down and she sat close to him. He offered her the
cone. "You go," she said, and Tom took a lick. He offered it to her again. She wrapped
her fingers around his hand, her long nails rested softly against him. They were so clear
he could almost see through them. Markie leaned in and extended her tongue. She had a
double tongue stud, two silver orbs. He watched her lick the cone, her tongue covered
with chocolate ice-cream, then she licked her lips. A little melted ice-cream dripped on
Toms finger. "Let me get some napkins," he said. "Here," she said, and sucked his
finger clean. Her lips were unbelievably soft and warm, and he clearly felt her tongue-
studs brush his finger. Markie turned her deep-blue eyes up to Tom, and she smiled
when he blushed. When Tom leaned in to take another lick off the ice-cream cone, she
leaned in quickly too. She licked his tongue, and then across his lip. "Oops. My bad,"
she said, but in a way that removed any doubt shed done it deliberately. Markie caressed
his hand with the tips of her long, tapered fingernails. Tom breathed in hard. Her nostrils
flared a little. Tom watched her small, firm breasts rise and fall faster as she breathed
harder. He felt her foot, warm and soft, rest on top of his, and the gentle but sharp
sensation of her making light, rhythmic strokes with her toenails. Tom trembled. She
leaned to the ice-cream and opened her mouth, extended her studded tongue. She looked
into Toms eyes. He leaned in too, and she licked his tongue and lips again, slower and
for longer this time, continuing to scratch him feather-light with her long fingernails and
toenails. "Scratching is sexy," she whispered. Markie stood up, brushing her fingernails
up Toms arm. She bent down and put her lips to his ear, "Im in cabin 415, in case you
change your mind about us hooking up."
Tom watched Markie walk away. If hed thought to follow her, he couldnt have gotten
up without everyone seeing the enormous tent in his swim trunks. Tom had never
cheated on Vickie. Letting Markie touch him with her nails, and lick him with her tongue
was more than hed ever done with another woman for as long as hed been married. He
was surprised at how easily hed let it happen, and surprised that he didnt feel sick with
guilt. When his erection had subsided enough for him to stand up, Tom went back to his
cabin. Vickie was still sleeping, and Tom lay down on the other bed and closed his eyes.
When he woke up, he looked at his watch. It was six-thirty, and they had a seven-thirty
seating for dinner. He gently shook Vickies shoulder, and she stirred a little. "We really
should get ready for dinner," he said. "Ohhh, God, Tom, dont mention food!" she
whined. "Isnt the patch working?" he asked. "I guess not so much," she said, "And
plus, I just got my period. You go to dinner. Im just going to eat some crackers and
have a cup of tea and go back to sleep." Tom showered and dressed for dinner. Vickie
woke up a little as he was leaving. "Tom?" she called. "Yes, sweetheart?" he said.
"Remind me never to let you drag me on a cruise again," she said. "Dont worry," Tom
said, and he closed the cabin door behind him as he left.
Dinner was strange, Tom being the only single guy at the table of couples, none of whom
knew each other. He looked at Vickis empty chair and felt depressed. He skipped
dessert and decided to wander the ship until it was time for bed. He heard music, and
followed the sound as it grew louder. Couples scurried in and out of the club, bumping
and jostling him. He felt very much out of place, and even more depressed. Someone
tapped him on the shoulder, and he swung around. It was Markie and Tina, in short, tight
party dresses, holding large glasses of green-apple martinis. "Hi!" Markie said with a
very wide smile. Tom guessed she wasnt on her first drink. "Have a sip!" she pleaded,
shoving the glass at him. "Oh, I…" Tom held up his hand. Markie pouted, and shoved
the glass at him again, insisting. Tom reluctantly took a sip and smiled. Markie smiled.
"Isnt it good?" she asked. "Delicious," he answered politely. Markie downed the rest
and took Toms arm. "Lets get you one. In fact, lets get me one, too," she giggled.
"Wheres your wife?" Tina asked. Markie swatted her arm. "Shes not feeling well,"
Tom said. "Shouldnt you, like, be with her, or something?" Tina asked. "Oww!" Tina
cried, sucking her arm where Markie had just pinched her, "Damn it Markie, your nails
are fucking sharp!" "Yeah they are," Markie said, looking deep into Toms eyes. Markie
ordered two green-apple martinis, but Tom changed his to a scotch-rocks, and the they
threaded their way through the crowd to the table where Tina was sitting. "Im going to
try finding someone to dance with," Tina said, getting up, and she added, "Someone
under thirty." "You should join your friend," Tom told Markie. "Dont you like me?"
she asked, seeming hurt. Recognizing she was a little drunk, Tom reassured her, "Of
course I like you." "Then dance with me," she said, pulling him to his feet and toward
the pulsating music.
"Wow, you can really move!" Tom said as he watched Markie roll her hips and gyrate.
She put her arms around his neck and ground herself against him, letting the throbbing
beat take over her body. She took his hands and held them on her hard little ass, refusing
to let him pull away, and she ground herself against him. "I need a break," Tom shouted
in her ear after several dances in a row. They went back to their table and sat, sipping
their drinks. Keeping Toms attention, Markie slowly removed her maraschino cherry
from its toothpick, holding it with her long, clear nails, and pursed her lips to it, sucking
and licking it until she finally bit half of it. She impaled the other half on her three-
quarter-inch nail and gracefully put it to Toms lips. He shook his head, but Markie
pouted and pushed it through his lips and into his mouth, and she slid her nail out slowly,
running it against his tongue and lips. He felt pressure on his foot. "No fair, youre
wearing shoes!" Markie complained. Then with a playful grin she slipped her foot up
under the cuff of his pants and pulled his sock down with her toes. While she scratched
his ankle lazily with her toenails, Markie stuck out her tongue and played the studs
around for him. Tina came back and plopped down in the chair, dejected. "No luck?"
Markie asked with false sympathy. "Shut up," Tina said. She got up. "Im going back to
the cabin," she said. "Okie dokie," Markie said, and she picked up Toms hand with both
of hers and kissed his fingers, "Ill see you whenever." Tina gave her a disgusted look.
"Have fun with your dad," she said facetiously, and walked off. "Fuck you!" Markie
called after her. Tom said, "Shes right, you know. As much as Im flattered by your
attention, youre wasting the cruise. Even if I were single, Im old enough to be your
father." Markie looked at Tom and bit the corner of her lower lip. He swallowed hard.
It was so sexy when she did that. "Do you see me as a little girl?" she asked, "Because
Im not one. And I know what I want." "No, I…" Tom started, but suddenly she had his
face in her hands, and her mouth was on his. Tom felt her thumbnails stroking his
cheeks, and the two smooth, round balls of her tongue studs tickled the roof of his mouth.
He took her wrists and tried pulling back, but she just gripped his face stronger with her
nails and kissed him harder. Finally she backed off. Her mouth was slightly open, and a
strand of saliva stretched from her lips to his, until it broke and vanished. She was
looking into his eyes with burning desire, and her breasts were heaving with each rapid
breath. "I know what I want," she repeated.
Tom spoke quickly, "I know most guys would jump at this opportunity…you probably
think Im an idiot for not…its not that Im not attracted to you…God knows I am…its
just that…" Markie put two long fingernails against his lips, "Shhh." She stood up and
took his hand to lead him away. "Markie…" he began. "Just walk with me to my cabin,
then well say goodbye. Thats all. Ok?" she pleaded. Tom nodded. He walked her back
to her cabin, she held his hand and leaned against his shoulder, and lightly scratched her
long fingernails on his arm. "You dont know what youre missing out on," she said
quietly. "I think I do," he said. Markie stopped, her deep blue eyes stared intensely.
"No, really, you have no idea," she said, biting the corner of her lower lip in that
irresistibly sexy way.
They found themselves in front of her cabin. "Well, I guess this is it," Tom said, offering
a handshake. Markie took his hand in hers and scratched his palm with her long nails.
She felt his hand tremble. "Its only eleven. Come in and hang out for a little while," she
said, "Pretty please?" "Really, no…" Tom said. "Tinas there. What could happen?"
Markie said. "Oh, well, then I guess itd be ok…just for a few minutes," Tom agreed.
Markie slipped her keycard in the door and they went inside. Tom grinned when he saw
clothing and lingerie strewn everywhere, it reminded him of his daughters room. Tina
was lying on one bed in shorts and a tank top, reading, and she looked up. Tom expected
to see a look of shock and/or displeasure on her face, but she just looked blankly at them
and resumed reading. "I have to get comfortable," Markie said, kicking off her heels and
grabbing her pool coverup, and she went into the bathroom. "Have a seat, if you can find
one," she giggled from inside. "I hope Im not disturbing you. Ill only be staying a few
minutes. Markie can be very persuasive," Tom said to Tina. She raised her eyebrows
and nodded. Tom cleared some clothes off the chair and sat down, somewhat uneasily.
Suddenly Markie came out of the bathroom and plopped herself on his lap, held his face
in her hands stroking him with her long, tapered fingernails and wiped her tongue studs
across his lips. Tom gasped, and when he did she thrust her tongue inside his mouth.
Tom whined and pushed her off as gently as he could. He looked at Tina pleadingly, but
she just looked at him blankly and went back to reading. "Ok, I thought you were going
to behave," Tom said. "He even sounds like your dad," Tina remarked from behind her
book. "Shut up!" Markie giggled. "And I thought I was safe, with Tina in the room,"
Tom said. Markie laughed. "Tina and I have a cool relationship," she said, sitting on the
bed next to her friend and giving her a sisterly hug. "Hey, wanna watch some girl-on-girl
porn?" Markie asked out of nowhere. Tom was startled. "Uh…I…well, its your TV,"
he said nervously. Markie smiled, "Who said anything about TV?" Then she gave Tina
a long, open-mouth kiss.
Tom sat there like a deer frozen in headlights, mesmerized, unable to move, watching the
two girls make out, his head filled with the sounds of lips and tongues mixed with little
whimpers and cries and moans of pleasure. Markie held Tinas face in her hands like
shed held Toms, slowly stroking her cheeks with her long, clear thumbnails. She
worked Tinas tank top off, and the brunettes voluptuous breasts bounced free. Markie
cupped Tinas breasts with her fingers, Tom watched her nails indent her soft flesh, and
she started sucking one large nipple while she gently kneaded the other between her
fingers. "Watch your sharp nails!" Tina warned, as she succumbed to the pleasuring.
"You mean, like this?" Markie asked innocently, gently clawing her nails over Tinas
breasts. "Ohhh, fuck! You know what that does to me!" Tina panted. She wrapped a leg
over Markies hip and pulled her down on top of her, and Markie kissed her way down
Tinas body slowly, pulling her shorts down, and she buried her face in Tinas crotch.
Tina spread her legs wide and grabbed Markies blond curls as Markie ate her. She
moaned, softly at first, then louder, and faster…until she was crying,
"Ahh…ahh…ahh…" over and over…and finally, "Ahhhhhhfffffucccckk!" as her body
shook from the force of her orgasm. Tom was rock-hard.
Markie came up giggling, and while Tina collapsed panting and sighing loudly, Markie
flung off her pool coverup and her panties. Tina had barely time to catch her breath when
Markie pounced on her and pulled her up to a sitting position, making out again. Tom
knew the feeling of Markies soft, tender lips, and it was like she was kissing him. He
couldnt remember when the last time was he was that hard, that filled with animal lust.
Watching Markies long, clear fingernails make tracks on Tinas smooth back made Tom
tingle all over. Markies little nipples were like bullets, long and hard, and when Tina
took each one between her teeth and then sucked them noisily, Tom could almost feel
them on his own tongue, he could almost taste the saltiness of the sweat he saw dripping
down Markies small, firm breasts, as she arched her back and moaned with pleasure.
Markie put her hands on Tinas shoulders and urged her to head south, which she did
with relish. She wrapped her legs around Tina, and Tom watched Markies slender toes
curl under, and she scratched her toenails into Tinas bare ass, and the back of her thighs,
leaving bright pink trails. Tina squealed and lifted her head and whined, "Shit, Markie!
Your fucking long toenails are like razorblades!" "Sorry, baby," Markie panted, and she
grabbed Tinas head and shoved it back into her crotch, grinding herself against Tinas
face. Then Markie screamed, "Oh baby, do it! Do it! Im cumming. Oh, God, baby,
ohhhhhhhhh!" She pulled Tina up and began kissing her hard, letting the afterwaves of
her tremendous orgasm wash over her like the oceans tide slowly going out. Markie
raised her arms and motioned Tom to come over. He shook his head nervously. She
sighed and pouted.
Tom was ready to explode from watching the two beautiful young women do each other,
but he was reluctant to approach Markie. She stumbled out of bed and over to him.
Markie took his hand and sucked his thumb like a baby, rubbing her twin tongue studs
against it inside the hot wetness of her mouth. She crawled on his lap, naked and sweaty.
The scent of her sex took hold of his senses. He made a weak and ineffective attempt to
take her hand away when she began unbuttoning his shirt. She rubbed her tits against
him slowly. She scratched her nails across his nipple, feather-light, and it hardened.
Markie smiled at Tom, and she rubbed her hard, pointy nipple against his. She turned her
face to his, biting the corner of her lower lip in her supremely sexy way, touched the
rounded tips of her long nails to his cheek, closed her eyes, opened her mouth, and gave
him a long, burning kiss. She raked her nails through his graying hair, her kiss getting
stronger, making little sounds of pleasure deep into his mouth where her hot tongue
played with his, her twin tongue studs tickling the roof of his mouth. Tom heard a little
moan, and when he looked over at the bed, Tina was fingering herself slowly. Markie
whispered in Toms ear, "Tinas not into dudes, but she likes to watch when I do a guy.
You dont mind, do you? Shell leave if I ask her." "No! Its ok!" Tom said, his mind
clinging to the ridiculous idea that Tinas presence could safeguard him from cheating on
Vicki.
Tom hadnt even felt her undo his belt and unzip his pants. Suddenly his hard cock was
free. She slid down kneeling on the floor, and pulled his pants and boxers down, then she
crawled back into his lap and lay against his skin. She kissed him again, long and slow,
stroking his cheeks gently with her thumbnails. It was an amazing feeling, her hot,
sweaty body, her driving kiss, those tongue studs…and those long, crystal-clear
thumbnails tracking softly over his skin, making a light crackling sound. Toms raging
hardon was trapped between him and Markies hard abs, and when she breathed it was
like being jerked off. He felt Markie touch her toes to his ankle, and then slowly scratch
with her toenails, up and down his calf. He couldnt keep himself from moaning out
loud, and she whispered hotly in his ear, "See, I dont need a pedicure." She traced her
fingernails slowly down his chest and over his stomach, and wrapped her warm fingers
around his throbbing cock. He tried pulling her away, but she gripped his arm firmly
with her long, sharp fingernails, and he was afraid shed leave marks that he wouldnt be
able to hide from Vicki. Markie slid down on the floor on her knees again. For a
moment she just stared contemplatively at his erection, then she had it in her hands again,
caressing it with her soft fingers. She pursed her lips and kissed the tip. Then with her
thumbs she held his pee-hole open and licked inside with the tip of her tongue, tasting his
precum and smacking her lips. Tom gasped aloud. Markie smiled up at him, and he
returned a silly grin. Then she closed the tips of her long, clear nails around the base of
his cock and scratched them feather-light up his shaft. Tom cried out, "Fuck!" Markie
laughed softly, "I told you scratching is sexy."
Markie formed her lips into an "O", lolling her tongue out slowly as she enveloped his
cock in her hot, wet mouth, supporting his balls gently with her long fingernails. Tom
hadnt had a blowjob since before he started dating Vicki, because she thought it was
gross, and flatly refused. Maybe it was the long passage of time, but Tom didnt
remember a blowjob had ever felt as good as what Markie was doing. That was even
before she started using her tongue studs on him. When she did that, Tom thought he
was going to pass out. In a few seconds he came so hard he screamed. Markies deep
blue eyes smiled at him while she swallowed everything he shot into her, and she sucked
him dry and licked him clean. Markie did the thing again where she closed her nails
around the base of his cock and scratched toward the tip just barely touching him, and
Tom saw to his amazement that he still had an erection. Or maybe it was a new one, he
wasnt sure. Before Tom knew what was happening, she crawled up on his lap quickly
and wrapped her legs around him and the chair, and lowered her hot, wet pussy onto his
throbbing cock. "No! We cant!" he cried. "Aw, too late," she giggled, beginning to ride
him slowly. "Wait, what about a condom?" Tom asked. "Why? Do you have any
diseases?" she asked. "No, but…" Tom said. "Me neither," Markie said, "I always use
one. Just not with you. I have to do you bare." She clamped her mouth on his and
shoved her studded tongue deep inside, stroking his cheeks with her thumbnails while
they kissed.
Markie settled into a slow rhythm of rise and fall on his cock, combing her nails through
his hair and kissing him, nibbling his earlobes and neck gently with her teeth, arching
backward so Tom could suck on her nipples. Mostly she liked to kiss, open-mouthed and
hard, working her tongue studs around inside his mouth, driving him crazy with desire
while she fucked him slowly. She would scratch her long, crystal-clear fingernails over
his shoulders and around his back and up his arms and sides and down his neck, and then
return her hands to his face, stroking her thumbnails over his cheeks while they kissed.
Having cum once, Tom was having no trouble lasting, which is exactly what Markie
wanted and needed. She was into long, slow fucking. Tom lost track of time, but he was
certain this was the longest hed ever had sex in his life. Markies kissing and scratching
was as much pleasure as her fucking. Vickies nails had disappeared shortly after they
were married, and they rarely kissed much anymore, even when they had sex, which had
been becoming less and less frequent. Markie was into sex and into him with uninhibited
passion, and Tom hadnt felt that in years, if ever. She was slowly getting more and more
excited, breathing deeper, moaning a little louder. She hadnt orgasmed, but she was
building to it. "Take me on the bed," she whispered in his ear, and she clung to him with
her nails as he got up from the chair and they fell onto the bed. Tom looked over at Tina
momentarily, she was lying on her side on her bed looking at them, one leg up, her
fingers deep in her pussy. Markie moved her taut hips faster. "Fuck me!" she cried,
urging Tom to pump her. "Oww, shit!" Tom gasped when Markie clawed her sharp
toenails into his ass and scratched him hard, "They are like razorblades!" He heard Tina
laugh. Markies slow, tender sex now gave way to urgent fucking. As she got closer to
orgasming, she scratched him passionately. They came almost at the same time,
screaming almost in harmony. "Was that amazing or what?" Markie exclaimed. Tom
was too winded to do more than just nod. "Was it good for you?" Markie asked Tina
with a giggle. "Shut up!" Tina sighed, breathing hard after her own orgasm.
"Oh my God!" Tom gasped, looking at his watch, "Its after 3AM! Ive got to get back
to…" It hit him, hed cheated with Markie. Hed just spent hours having sex with her.
Amazing, incredible, unbelievable sex. But, hed cheated on his wife. He stood up, and
Markie stood too, holding her naked body against him. "Cant you stay just a little?" she
whined. "I…I have to go," Tom said, hastily gathering his clothes and trying to get
dressed while Markie kissed him and stroked him with her nails. "Oww!" he said feeling
his back burning. "Oops. I think you better keep your back to Vicki for a few days. Or
better yet, keep your shirt on," Markie said, looking over the marks shed left with her
sharp nails in the heat of sex. "Shit," Tom muttered. He sat on the edge of the bed trying
to put his socks on, and Markie came behind him and whispered in his ear, "One kiss
goodbye?" He turned, and she was biting the corner of her lower lip in that irresistible
way. Her long, clear thumbnails scraped his cheeks softly as her tender, moist lips
opened against his, and he felt her tongue studs again on the roof of his mouth. She
scratched his thigh lightly with her sharp toenails, and he found himself on his back, with
Markie once again slowly raising and lowering her hot, tight pussy on his hard cock.
When Tom finally left, it was nearly 5AM, and Markie crawled into bed with Tina and
cuddled her sleeping body. "Bye," Markie whispered, and she blew him a kiss.
Tom neednt have worried, because Vicki didnt wake up when he snuck in to their cabin
after 5AM. In fact, though he didnt wake up until 10AM, she was still asleep. He
slipped out of bed careful to keep his back to her until he put his shirt on. He could still
feel the burning from Markies nails. Tom looked at Vicki, asleep with her hair tied up
with a band, and eye shades on her face. He looked at her fake french nails. Tom went
into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. It wasnt long-term guilt over
cheating that was going to plague him, because to his surprise, he felt no guilt. No, it
would be the longing for Markie, the longing to be with her, to see the sexy way she bit
the corner of her lower lip, to taste the sweetness of her burning kiss, to feel the scratch of
her long, crystal-clear nails. "Scratching is sexy," he heard her say, over and over in his
mind. Yes, her scratching was so, so sexy. Tom saw Markie and Tina with their luggage
the next day when everyone disembarked the ship. Theyd never exchanged e-mail
addresses or any personal info. They didnt know what city each other was from, or even
their last names. Shipboard romances are supposed to be like that, he assumed. Besides,
he was obviously a fling for her. Hed be insane to think shed want to pursue a
relationship with someone his age. Just because he was miserable in his marriage didnt
mean she wanted him in her life. Toms eyes met Markies for just a second across the
deck, then she turned and gossiped with Tina. Clearly shed already moved on.
The cruise that was supposed to rekindle their romance was in reality the last puff of
smoke. A week after they got home, Tom told Vicki he was leaving her, and he moved
to a hotel. He preferred to be miserable and alone than stuck in a dead marriage. And his
wish seemed to be coming true, he was quite miserable. He went to bars, he went to
singles events. He registered for on-line dating sites. The cute-looking 20-somethings
preferred men "25-35", and at 41 he was far outside the limit. He found a couple whose
preferences said "25-45" but they werent attractive to him at all. Tom laid awake many
nights wanting to track Markie down, but what was the point? To hear her tell him it was
just a shipboard one-nighter? that she wasnt interested in him? that she had a
boyfriend…a young boyfriend? He stopped trying to date. Every night he ate alone at a
diner around the corner from his hotel, watched some on-demand porn, and went to sleep.
Even the girl-on-girl porn he used to like seemed phony and grotesque when he recalled
watching Markie and Tina pleasure each other.
Three months had passed since the cruise. Toms life was an endless progression of
depositions and mediations and hearings. Their friends abandoned him and sided with
Vicki. His kids hated him. His work performance suffered. Tom knew his marriage
probably wouldve ended one way or the other, what tortured him was not being able to
get Markie out of his head. It tortured him, and yet ironically it was the only thing that
gave him any pleasure. The only thing that he looked forward to anymore was late at
night, lying in his hotel room, reliving in his head that one night with Markie, and
fantasizing about her while he jerked himself off. His mind held exquisitely vivid
pictures of her. Her deep blue eyes, her long blond curls, her lips, her tongue with the
two round studs, her little tuft of blond snatch. His minds eye could see magnified the
almost-invisible, white-blond fuzz on her upper lip, while he recalled the sexy way she
bit the corner of her lower lip when she was sexually aroused…and how it aroused him
when she did it. And his mind had a high-definition image of each of her nearly-inch-
long fingernails and little sharp, tapered toenails, all of them so perfect and youthful and
crystal-clear.
"Tom, theres someone here to see you," his assistant said, knocking on the frosted glass
door to his office. "Send him in," Tom said, engrossed in a spreadsheet on his computer.
"Hi," a soft, feminine voice said. Tom looked up, pushing his computer-reading glasses
down his nose. A wave of adrenaline coursed through him. "Markie!" he cried, "What
are you doing here?" She brushed her blond curls back behind her ear. The sight of her
long, clear fingernails was like a drug to him. Tom saw Markie biting the corner of her
lower lip. It meant she wanted him. His heart raced. "Are you mad at me for showing
up?" she asked. "God no!" Tom said, "I thought about trying to find you. I thought
about it a lot." "Really? Why didnt you?" she asked, nibbling on the end of a long
fingernail. "I didnt think youd want me to," he said. "Oh my God I so wanted you to,"
she said, reaching for his face. She scratched his cheeks softly with her long, clear
thumbnails while she open-mouth kissed him. "How did you find me?" Tom asked. "It
wasnt easy. But I had to find you," she said, looking up at him with her deep blue eyes.
Her mouth was dry, and so was his. "I had to tell you…" Markie said. "I know, I cant
stop thinking about you either!" Tom interjected, and he kissed her again. "I left Vicki,"
he said. "Was it because of me?" she asked. "Its not your fault. It was coming. You
just made me see it clearly," he said. Markie was silent, but her eyes were excited and
happy. "How long can you stay?" he asked. Markie shrugged, "As long as you want me
to I guess." "Are you hungry?" he asked. Markie nodded.
They got a bite at the diner near Toms hotel, and then they went upstairs. Markie took
her shoes and socks off and stretched out on the bed. Tom stared at her feet. Her clear
toenails were a bit longer than before. She saw him looking and wiggled her toes. "Ive
still got my razorblades," she giggled. Tom smiled. Markie took her top off and
unfastened her bra. She opened her arms to Tom, and as he launched at her, furiously
undressing himself, she wriggled out of her jeans and panties. The moment Tom felt
Markies long nails touch him, he was in heaven. She opened her mouth and kissed him
hungrily, sweeping her studded tongue around inside his mouth. She licked and kissed
him up and down his body, and she scratched him everywhere with slow, gentle,
passionate strokes of her long, crystal-clear fingernails and toenails. "I need lots of
foreplay," she whispered, "You dont mind do you?" "Mind? Youre incredible!" Tom
moaned. "Young guys just want to fuck right away," she said. "I remember…barely,"
he laughed, which turned into a long moan when Markie teased his pee hole with the tip
of a long fingernail. "Youre not old," she said softly. "When youre 40 Ill be ready for
Social Security," Tom said. "Will you still love me then?" Markie asked, with a feather-
light clawstroke of her nails from the base of his cock to the tip. "Oh God! Yes!" Tom
cried. "You better," she smiled, and she lowered her hot, tight pussy onto his rigid
member and took him on a luxuriant, passionate, hour-long ride to their nearly-
simultaneous orgasms.
The two of them lay side-by-side, breathing deeply, glistening with sweat and glowing
with sexual satisfaction. Tom touched Markies hand and she responded by stroking his
palm with the tips of her long, tapered fingernails. "Youre amazing," he said. Markie
rested her head on his shoulder, her long blond curls draped across his chest, and she
kissed his neck. "How do you feel about babies?" she asked out of nowhere. Tom was a
little startled since she was only 18, but after all, it was a legitimate question, him being
41 and already father to three kids. "Well…whenever youre ready," he said. "Ill be
ready in about six months," Markie said quietly. Tom laughed, "Whats your rush?" "I
mean, Im pregnant," she said. Tom sat up suddenly. "That night on the cruise…I guess
I should of let you use a condom, huh. Are you mad at me?" she asked. "No, Im not
mad at you," Tom said, holding her close, "Just promise me one thing." "Like what?"
she asked. Tom took her hand and kissed it. "Promise me you wont cut your nails when
the baby comes," he said. "I promise I wont cut them…ever," Markie said. She reached
down and closed the tips of her long, crystal-clear fingernails around the base of his cock
and stroked it feather-light up to the tip. Tom moaned aloud and was rock-hard by the
time she finished. "Scratching is sexy," she whispered.
-
Cuts
It was a gorgeous summers day....boiling hot and sparkling bright.....i was driving home from work as i always do
a quiet road but used by reps for the local town and ind est,s.
Rounding a bend i discovered a small car parked on the verge....on approaching closer i could see the bonnet was raised and
under the bonnet gazing at the engine was a very pretty young blonde around 19 short skirt gorgeous long legs with on her feet "4 high platform sandals.
Me being a good samaritan stopped and reversed....i got out from my car and asked if the young lady would like a hand.As she started to explain her problem
i noticed her hands.....more what was attached to the end of them...at least 1.5" long real nails....un manicured and looking pretty sharp.
As i began to inspect her engine.....my eyes were soon turned to her feet and those lovely sandals.....but to my amazment also on her feet were gorgeous
toenails....not over long.....but long enough.Anyway back to the matter in hand i thought.....in the end her problem was pretty simple.....just a loose wire off her battery
quickly fixed and i was done."How can i thank you" she asked....i thught for a minute.....and not to miss an oppurtunity i
asked if her nails were real.Oh yes she said....10 months to grow them and they are lethal.Well i said....could you possibly show me how sharp they really are??
on that she approached me....raised her left hand and bang.....the pain was searing....i had 4 very sharp blades in my arm......and the thum was crushing from
underneath .......and then she dragged her weapons down my arm leaving deep red lines with blood seeping.
While i was rubbing and inspecting my damaged arm i suddenly felt a burning pain in my lower leg......i look down to discover she had removed her sandal.
was gouging my leg ith her big toenail on left foot."Thats how sharp they are" she said.....these babies are my defence.
I must be off now she said.....thanks for fixing my car......and remember long nails are always sharp.
Im still nursing the cuts she inflicted on my arm....and the thumb puncture wounds......lethal
-
Das Leben ist Gut!
Das Leben ist Gut!
by molicker
Vorab erstmal 1000 Dank für die netten Kommentare zu meinem 1. Dreiteiler. Schreibt mir ruhig weiter, ich freue mich über jede Anregung und Kritik. Egal ob positiv o. negativ. Vergeßt auch nicht zu voten, denn ein bisschen Ergeiz hier mal zu den Honorierten zu gehören habe ich auch ;-))
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Der Radiowecker spielte leise einen aktuellen Hit, als Martin durch ein bekanntes und überaus angenehmes Gefühl in seiner Körpermitte geweckt wurde. Es war das unnachahmliche Schlecken und Knabbern seiner Freundin Diana an seiner, prall von ihm abstehenden Morgenlatte, welches ihn aus seinen Träumen weckte.
Diana war, wie er selbst gerade 18 Jahre alt geworden und sie war Martins erste ernsthafte Freundin. Sie kannten sich aus der Schule und waren seit etwa einem halben Jahr ein Paar.
Martin konnte sein Glück kaum fassen, dass dieses bildhübsche Mädchen, mit den langen blonden Haaren und der Figur eines Penthouse-Modells gerade ihn erwählt hatte. Nahezu jeder Junge auf der Schule hätte alles dafür gegeben, einmal mit diesem Traumgirl allein zu sein. Doch Diana hatte nur Martins, anfangs recht schüchterne Annäherungsversuche erhört und seit sie ihn das erste Mal nackt gesehen hatte, war sie wie vernarrt in Martins, nahezu stetig einsatzbereite Männlichkeit und konnte kaum die Finger von ihm lassen.
So war es auch wieder an diesem Morgen und obwohl sie eigentlich früh aufstehen wollte, da ihr Unterricht in der 1. Stunde begann, konnte sie dem Anblick von Martins steifem Phallus nicht widerstehen und tat, was sie am liebsten tat, nämlich das harte aber dennoch zarte Stück Fleisch mit ihren weichen Lippen und ihrer feuchten Zunge zu umspielen und zu küssen, bis der Eigentümer dieses Prachtexemplars von einem Penis, wohlig stöhnend erwachte und sie mit halb geöffneten Augen lächelnd ansah.
„Guten Morgen Schlafmütze!" haucht sie zärtlich und ließ ihre schmale, gelenkige Zunge einige Male um seine blanke Eichel kreisen, was Martin abermals zu einen tiefen Seufzer veranlasste und in seinem enorm angeschwollenen Glied ein bekanntes Zucken verursachte.
Aus der schmalen Öffnung am Eichelkopf quoll ein dicker Tropfen klarer, schmieriger Flüssigkeit, den Diana sich sofort, seinen Penis wie einen monströsen Lippenstift verwendend, auf ihre prallen Kusslippen massierte. Anschließend glänzten diese wie feuchte Erdbeerhälften und von ihrem feuchten Mund bis zu Martins dunkelblau gefärbter Eichel spannte sich ein dünner Faden des sämigen Saftes, den Diana genussvoll mit ihrer Zunge einfing, bis ihre weichen Lippen sich öffneten und sich über den hoch sensiblen Schwanzkopf stülpten.
Ihre schmalen, zarten Finger umschlossen zärtlich seinen adrigen Schaft und der, aus ihrem feuchten Mund fließende Speichel sorgte für die richtige Schmierung bei ihren langsamen Wichsbewegungen. Mit der anderen Hand ergriff Diana Martins prall gefüllten Hodensack und ihre langen, im Frenchstyle lackierten Fingernägel kraulten vorsichtig über die sensible Sackhaut.
Mit ihren strahlend blauen Augen schaute sie Martin direkt in das lustvoll verzerrte Gesicht und genoss das Gefühl der totalen Kontrolle, welche sie in diesem Moment über ihn hatte. Immer, wenn sein knochenharter Penis verräterisch zu Zucken begann, ließen ihre Lutsch- und Wichsbewegungen an Intensität nach und nachdem Martins Erregungskurve wieder langsam gesunken war, steigerte das blonde Mädchen die Liebkosungen am Schwanz ihres Freundes, bis dieser erneut kurz vor der Explosion stand.
Martin brachte diese lustvolle Marter fast um den Verstand und er konnte schließlich an nichts anderes mehr denken, als den aufgestauten Inhalt seiner schmerzenden Hoden endlich in den feuchtwarmen Schlund seiner bildhübschen Freundin zu schießen.
Diana spürte deutlich das nervöse Zucken des mächtigen Phallus, dessen purpurne Spitze sie fest zwischen ihren fleischigen Lippen gesogen hatte und wichste mit beiden Händen den pumpenden Schaft, bis sich der gallertartige Samen Martins explosionsartig in ihren Blasemund ergoss.
Während Martin im Orgasmusrausch laut aufstöhnte, ruckte sein Becken ekstatisch einige Male empor, um seinen speienden Prügel so tief wie es ging in die Mundhöhle des Mädchens zu stoßen. Diese jedoch ließ nach den ersten kraftvollen Samenstrahlen, welche ihre Zunge alsbald mit dem warmen Nektar überfluteten, die unablässig weiter eruptierende Eichel aus ihrem Sperma gefüllten Mund gleiten und richtete, den langen Schaft nun mit beiden Händen kräftig weitermelkend, in Richtung ihrer voluminösen Brüste.
Immer weiter schoss die aromatische, weiße Liebessoße aus der kleinen Öffnung in der Eichelspitze und überzog die weiche, blasse Haut von Dianas perfekt geformten Brüsten mit einem milchigen Schleier, von dem dicke Bäche aus zähem Lustschleim zurück auf Martin pumpende Eier tropften.
Diana liebte es, den stahlharten Schwanz ihres Freundes abzumelken und in ihren funkelnden Augen spiegelte sich die eigene Erregung wieder, die sie dabei empfand, als ihr begehrenswerter Körper vom warmen, schleimigen Sud aus Martins ausgelaugten Hoden überschwemmt wurde.
Während das junge Mädchen laut schmatzend die Genitalien ihres Freundes von den schmackhaften Zeugnissen seiner Manneskraft reinigte, glitt ihre rechte Hand hinunter, zwischen ihre jugendlichen Schenkel und mit wenigen, zielsicheren Stimulationen an ihrem dick geschwollenen Kitzler brachte sie sich selbst auf einen erlösenden Höhepunkt, den sie tief grunzend und mit verdrehten Augen bis zum entspannenden Ende auskostete.
Nachdem Diana ihre Gedanken wieder halbwegs geordnet hatte, krabbelte sie am muskulösen Körper Martins empor und die Münder des jungen Liebespaares fanden sich zu einem zärtlichen, lang anhaltenden Kuss, bis sie durch lautes Klopfen an der Zimmertür aus ihrer Zweisamkeit gerissen wurden.
„Diana, Schatz! Es ist schon spät! Beeile dich, dann nimmt Papa dich auf dem Weg zur Arbeit mit in die Schule!" Es war die Stimme von Dianas Mutter Victoria, die freundlich, aber energisch durch die geschlossene Tür drang. Diana zuckte zusammen und wand sich aus den Armen Martins mit den Worten: „Ja Mama, ich bin gleich unten! Ich springe nur noch schnell unter die Dusche und dann komme ich!"
Martin sah, wie das blonde Luxusfräulein vom Bett sprang und mit einem leisen Kichern in ihrem angrenzenden Badezimmer verschwand. Er selbst hatte heute erst zur 3. Stunde und so noch genug Zeit, sich noch einmal in dem warmen Bett umzudrehen und weiter zu schlafen.
Als Diana nach einer Viertelstunde das Bad geduscht und sparsam geschminkt wieder verließ, sah sie, dass ihr Angebeteter bereits wieder im Land der Träume weilte und stahl sich, nachdem sie ihm einen leichten Kuss auf den inzwischen arg geschrumpften Penis gehaucht hatte, auf leisen Sohlen aus dem Zimmer.
Durch leises Klopfen an der Tür wurde Martin ein zweites Mal an diesem Morgen geweckt und er hörte Victoria Schuhmanns unverkennbare Stimme: „Hallo Martin, bist du wach? Ich habe frische Rühreier zum Frühstück gemacht und wenn du möchtest, kannst du gern herunter kommen!"
„Ja, danke Frau Schuhmann", antwortete Martin verschlafen und wand sich aus dem Bett. Nachdem er ebenfalls eilig geduscht und sich schnell in seine Jeans und T-Shirt geschmissen hatte, begab er sich ein Stockwerk tiefer in das große Esszimmer der Familie Schuhmann, wo Dianas Mutter bereits am Frühstückstisch saß.
„Guten Morgen, Frau Schuhmann", begrüßte Martin die Mutter seiner Freundin höflich und diese erwiderte: „Hallo, du Langschläfer!" mit einem bezaubernden Lächeln ihrer dunkelrot geschminkten Lippen.
Nicht zum ersten Mal musste sich Martin eingestehen, dass ihn der Anblick seiner „Schwiegermutter in spe" mehr als faszinierte. Victoria Schuhmann war eine äußerst attraktive und elegante Frau von 39 Jahren, wobei man ihr diese keinesfalls ansah und sieh im Höchstfall auf Anfang 30 schätzen würde.
Ihr wallendes, dunkelblondes Haar reichte bis auf ihre schmalen Schultern und ihr markantes, geradezu edel wirkendes Gesicht war jederzeit perfekt geschminkt. Die Ähnlichkeit mit ihrer Tochter Diana war wirklich verblüffend, auch wenn sie natürlich das ein oder andere Fältchen mehr besaß, so hätte man sie fast für Dianas große Schwester halten können.
Victoria trug einen dunkelroten Morgenmantel, dessen tiefer Ausschnitt halb offen stand und Martins Blick glitt wie von selbst in die tiefe Schlucht zwischen ihren prall hervorstehenden Brüsten, die den samtigen Stoff unter dem sie prangten wie eine zweite Haut erschienen ließen.
„Komm doch, setz dich zu mir", bat ihn Frau Schuhmann an den gedeckten Tisch und deutete mit ihrer rechten Hand auf den Platz ihr gegenüber. „Ich hasse es, allein zu essen", sagte sie, während Martin sich auf den ihm zugewiesenen Platz setzte.
Als sich Victoria Schuhmann erhob, um ihm Kaffee einzuschenken und sich dabei ein gutes Stück vornüber beugte, hatten Martins staunende Augen einen ungehinderten Blick in ihr atemberaubendes Dekoltee und diese Aussicht ließ den Schwengel zwischen seinen Beinen langsam aber stetig zu voller Größe anschwellen.
Um sich ein wenig zu entspannen und damit die Mutter seiner Freundin nichts von seiner peinlichen Erregung mitbekam, rückte Martin mit dem Stuhl ein wenig näher an den Tisch heran, so dass Victoria keine Sicht auf seine Lenden hatte. Lächelnd goss Frau Schumann den Kaffee in Martins Tasse und füllte seinen Teller anschließend mit einer großen Portion der köstlich duftenden Rühreier.
„Iss soviel du magst - damit du wieder zu Kräften kommst", sagte Victoria mit warmer Stimme, während Martins Augen ihre perfekt manikürten Hände bestaunten. Auch Diana, seine Freundin, hatte schöne Hände, mit schlanken Fingern und makellosen, langen Nägeln. Doch die Krallen ihrer Mutter übertrafen diese an Länge nochmal um das Doppelte, waren leicht nach unten gebogen und mit einem dunkelroten Nagellack überzogen, der ihnen ein gleichzeitig bedrohliches, aber ebenso sinnliches Aussehen verlieh.
An jedem Finger trug Victoria mindestens einen goldenen Ring, einige davon mit teuer aussehenden Edelsteinen besetzt und auch ihre schlanken Handgelenke wurden von mehreren breiteren und schmaleren Armbändern und -reifen geschmückt, welche bei jeder ihrer Bewegungen hörbar aneinander klackten.
Frau Schumann bemerkte die entrückten Blicke des Jungen und beschloss, ihm, mit einer kleinen Vorführung ihrer Fingerfertigkeiten noch ein wenig weiter zu imponieren. Sicher war Martin der Freund ihrer Tochter und in einem Alter, dass er ebenso gut ihr Sohn hätte sein können. Doch der Gedanke, dass der junge Mann an ihren Reizen offensichtlich Gefallen zu finden schien, sorgte bei ihr für eine bekannte, aber lange nicht mehr gefühlte Zufriedenheit, die sie ausgiebig genießen wollte.
Während Martin damit beschäftigt war, den Berg Rühreier in sich hineinzuschaufeln, begab sich Victoria eilig in das Badezimmer und kam umgehend mit einer großen Dose wohlriechender Feuchtigkeitscreme zurück. Sie stellte diese auf den Tisch, nahm sich einen nach dem anderen ihrer teuren Ringe von den schlanken Fingern und begann damit, sich vor dem fasziniert zuschauenden Jungen, die traumhaft schönen Hände zu cremen.
„Es stört dich doch hoffentlich nicht, wenn ich mich ein wenig meiner Verschönerung widme, oder?" fragte sie Martin und ohne eine Antwort abzuwarten fügte sie seufzend hinzu: „In meinem Alter muss man schon ein bisschen was dafür tun, um die Spuren der Zeit nicht allzu deutlich werden zu lassen."
Martin schluckte hörbar und wusste nicht, was er antworten sollte. Schließlich stotterte er halblaut: „Sie...Sie...Sie sind doch nicht alt, Frau Schumann. Für mich sind sie eine sehr attraktive Frau und ich - ich wäre sehr stolz, wenn irgendwann meine Frau noch genau so toll aussehen würde, wie sie!"
Plötzlich, als ihm bewusst wurde, was er gerade gesagt hatte, wurde Martin puterrot im Gesicht und blickte beschämt nach unten. Victoria, deren langgliedrigen Hände mittlerweile von der Creme ölig glänzten, erkannte die Verlegenheit des Jungen sofort und war darüber halb gerührt und halb belustigt.
„Oh - Martin! Das war aber sehr nett von dir! Ich habe schon lange kein solch schönes Kompliment mehr bekommen. Weißt du", sagte sie, während sie sich von ihrem Platz erhob und langsam auf ihren klackenden Highheelsandalen um den Tisch und auf Martin zustolzierte, „ich bin sehr glücklich, dass Diana so einen netten und sensiblen Jungen wie dich gefunden hat."
Inzwischen stand die atemberaubend aussehende Frau direkt neben dem, nervös auf seinem Stuhl herumrutschenden Martin und streichelte mit der Außenseite ihrer ultralangen Nägel der rechten Hand sanft über seine Wange. „Manchmal beneide ich sie sogar ein bisschen - obwohl ich das eigentlich nicht sollte!" hauchte Victoria und umspielte mit der Spitze ihres Zeigefingernagels Martin bebenden Lippen.
Der Junge hatte einen riesigen Kloß im Hals und konnte nichts sagen. Was war hier plötzlich los? In seinem Kopf war er hin und her gerissen zwischen den Gedanken an Diana, die er aufrichtig liebte und der unbeschreiblich verführerischen Ausstrahlung ihrer göttlichen Mutter, die ihn gerade so schmeichlerisch umgarnte.
„Darf ich dich mal was persönliches fragen?" flüsterte Victoria in Martins Ohr, dass ihm ein wohliger Schauer durch den Körper lief. Dabei beugte sie sich tief zu ihm hinab, sodass ihre vollreifen, vom dünnen Stoff des Morgenmantels nur notdürftig bedeckten Brüste dem schwitzenden 18jährigen fast die Luft zum Atmen nahmen.
„Ja - klar, Frau Schumann!" brachte Martin halblaut heraus und rutschte nervös auf seinem Stuhl herum. „Steh' mal bitte auf!" gebot ihm die Mutter seiner Freundin plötzlich in einem eher strengen Ton und ein dirigierender Griff unter sein Kinn ließ Martin keine andere Wahl, als sich zu erheben.
Um die deutliche Ausbeulung seiner Jeans zu verbergen, verschränkte er seine Hände vor dem sichtbaren Zeichen seiner Erregung und bot damit noch einen wesentlich witzigeren Anblick als vorher.
Victoria konnte sich ein Schmunzeln nicht verkneifen und fuhr damit fort, dass gerade begonnene Spiel noch weiter auf die Spitze zu treiben.
„Sag mal Martin", ihre warme aber gleichzeitig energische Stimme ließ die Knie des Jungen zu Butter werden, „für wie attraktiv hältst du mich?" Während ihre Blicke sich wie Feuerpfeile in die Augen des ihr gegenüberstehenden Schülers bohrten, zupften ihre makellosen Hände an ihrem Umhang und ließen ihre weiblichen Rundungen noch provokanter hervortreten.
Martin schluckte hörbar, während er krampfhaft nach einer ehrlichen aber unverfänglichen Antwort suchte. Natürlich fand er diese Traumfrau attraktiv und hätte sich liebend gern kopfüber zwischen ihre großen und festen Brüste gestürzt. Aber vielleicht wollte sie ihn ja nur testen, ob er Diana auch treu sein würde, wenn es darauf ankommt.
Nach einigen, unendlich lange erschienenen Sekunden der Stille brachte er schließlich halblaut hervor: „Wie...Wie meinen sie das, Frau Schumann?"
„Nun Martin - ich bin ja nicht blind und bemerke sehr wohl, wie du mich seit einiger Zeit anschaust. Ich kenne diese Blicke der Männer nur zu gut, doch leider ernte ich von meinem Mann schon lange nicht mehr solche Bestätigung. Wahrscheinlich bin ich ihm zu alt geworden und er besorgt es lieber seiner jungen Sekretärin! Dieses Schicksal möchte ich meiner Tochter aber ersparen und darum möchte ich von dir wissen, was du empfindest, wenn du einer Frau wie mir gegenüber stehst. Eines Tages wird Diana so alt sein wie ich jetzt und wirst du sie dann noch genau so begehren wie heute?"
„Ja, Frau Schumann, das werde ich bestimmt", erwiderte Martin kleinlaut und blickte dabei verschämt zu Boden.
„Das würde ich dir gern glauben, Martin. Aber was ich will ist ein Beweis! Zeige mir, dass Du mich ebenso attraktiv findest wie meine Tochter! Steh' nicht so unbeholfen rum, wie ein kleiner Junge! Es gibt nur einen Weg, mir deine Aufrichtigkeit zu beweisen: ZEIG MIR DEINEN SCHWANZ!!!"
Erschrocken blickte Martin dem eiskalt blickenden Luxusweib in die funkelnden Augen und er erkannte, dass sie es Ernst meinte. Die Mutter seiner Freundin wollte, dass er vor ihr seinen inzwischen schmerzhaft gegen den Hosenstoff drückenden Penis entblößte und sie ließ ihm keine Wahl, ihrem Wunsch zu widersprechen.
Mit zitternden Händen öffnete er den Bundknopf seiner Jeans und zog den Reißverschluss hörbar herunter. Die leichte Entspannung, die seinem eingeklemmten Riemen hierdurch gewährt wurde, tat ihm sichtlich gut und ohne weiter darüber nachzudenken, was er hier eigentlich gerade tat, streifte er die Jeans samt Boxershorts bis zu seinen Knien hinab.
Im steten Rhythmus seiner heftigen Herzschläge pochend stand sein steinharter Lustknochen in einem 90Grad Winkel von seinem muskulösen Körper ab und an der schmalen Öffnung am Ende der Purpur leuchtenden Eichel glänzten bereits einige Tropfen herausquellender Vorfreude.
Victoria Schumanns Augen blickten wie hypnotisiert auf das zuckende Symbol, purer, männlicher Erregung und sie spürte deutlich, wie auch in ihrem Lustzentrum die heißen Säfte der Geilheit zusammenflossen und den samtenen Stoff ihres schwarzen Stringslips langsam durchnässten.
Ohne ein Wort zu sagen öffnete die reife Frau den lockeren Knoten ihres Morgenmantels und ließ denselben lautlos von ihren schmalen Schultern hinter sich, auf den gefliesten Fußboden gleiten. Ihre Krallenhaften Finger wanderten sanft über die prallen Rundungen ihres weiblichen Körpers, bis sie schließlich den oberen Saum ihres Slips erreichten, diesen eilig über ihre bestrumpften Beine streifte und schließlich einen kleinen Schritt nach vorn trat, bis die aalglatte Penisspitze des, wie versteinert vor ihr stehenden Jungen nur noch wenige Zentimeter von ihrer teilrasierten und unablässig schleimenden Möse entfernt war.
„Zieh dich ganz aus, ich will dich nackt haben!" stöhnte sie dem Freund ihrer Tochter entgegen, bevor sie ihre vollen und aufreizend geschminkten Lippen heftig auf seine presste und ihre Zungen einen wilden Tanz der Leidenschaft vollführten.
Martin, der sich seiner Kleidung inzwischen in Windeseile entledigt hatte, konnte immer noch nicht glauben, wie ihm geschah. Aber das lüsterne Weib ließ ihm keine Zeit, seine wirren Gedanken zu ordnen und hatte sich inzwischen rücklings auf den großen Esstisch gelegt.
Schamlos vor Wollust spreizte sie ihre langen, nylonbestrumpften Beine bis aufs Äußerste, so dass sich ihre vollreife, von schleimig glänzenden Schamlippen gesäumte Prachtfotze, wie eine im Morgentau rosa erblühende Orchidee, einladend öffnete.
Mit den Krallenfingern einer Hand schob Victoria ihre dick geschwollenen Schamlippen auseinander, während ihr kugelrunder, tiefrot leuchtender Kitzler zwischen zwei Nägeln der anderen Hand langsam aber mit sich steigernder Intensität stimuliert wurde.
„Gefällt dir, was du siehst?" fragte Frau Schumann den schwer atmenden Freund ihrer Tochter mit zitternder Stimme. „Oh Gott, Frau Schumann!", antwortete dieser keuchend, „Sie sind die schönste Frau, die ich je gesehen habe!"
Wie zur Bestätigung seiner ehrlichen Bewunderung ergriffen Martins Hände seinen nervös zuckenden Schwanz und begannen, den langen, adrigen Schaft gefühlvoll zu wichsen.
„Das hast du sehr nett gesagt", raunte Victoria Schumann, während sie sich langsam aufrichtete, dabei eine Hand von ihrer auslaufenden Möse nahm, diese dem vor ihr stehenden Jungen vor den Mund hielt und mit sonorer Stimme weiter sprach, „aber jetzt gib mir endlich deinen harten Schwanz und zeig mir, wie geil du wirklich auf mich bist!"
Martins bebende Lippen kosteten den klaren, schleimigen Mösennektar von Victorias ultralangen Fingernägeln, welche sie ihm, einen nach dem anderen, zur mündlichen Reinigung darbot.
Victorias andere Hand umschloss unterdessen sein waagerecht von ihm abstehendes Glied, wichste einige Male kräftig den pochenden Schaft und ließ die klare Flüssigkeit, die als Zeichen seiner Erregung in schleimigen Fäden aus der schlitzförmigen Öffnung rann, direkt auf ihren knopfgroßen Kitzler tropfen.
Das Leben ist Gut!
by molicker
Der junge Mann stöhnte laut auf, als die zarten Finger der reifen Frau die Vorfreude aus seinem steinharten Phallus molken und als Victoria seine purpurrote Eichel genussvoll über ihre dick geschwollen, von Mösensaft und Nillenschleim triefenden Schamlippen rieb, brannten bei ihm die letzten Sicherungen durch.
Ruckartig schnellte Martins Becken nach vorn, um mit einem gewaltigen Hieb seinen bebenden Riemen tief in die weit offen stehende Fotze seine ‚Schwiegermutter' einzudringen. Aber kurz bevor die leuchtend glänzende Eichel in den warmen Lustkanal eindringen konnte, schlossen sie die klauenartigen Finger Victorias wie ein Schraubstock um das hervorzuckende Glied und verhinderten sein weiteres Vordringen in letzter Sekunde.
Martin schrie wütend auf, weniger aus Schmerz als aus Enttäuschung über die missglückte Penetration und wusste im ersten Moment nicht, was er von Victorias Rückzieher halten sollte.
Diese aber lächelte ihn wissend an, legte ihm einen Finger zum Zeichen der Beruhigung auf die Lippen und sprach langsam und mit warmer Stimme: „Schschsch! Ruhig Blut, mein wilder Hengst! Ich weiß ja, wie geil du bist und glaube mir - ich bin es auch! Aber ich möchte auch, dass dieses erste Mal für dich und für mich etwas ganz besonderes ist. Etwas, an das wir uns immer erinnern werden und was dir meine Tochter bisher noch nicht geboten hat!"
Ihre geschlossene Faust, zwischen deren Fingern Martins Schwanz noch immer fest eingeklemmt war, wanderte unterdessen ein kleines Stück tiefer, bis vor das faltig glänzende Arschloch und dabei lief die sämige Vorfreude in einem wahren Rinnsal durch Victorias tiefe Arschkerbe.
„Gib mir deinen Schwanz! FICK MEINEN ARSCH!!!", befahl Frau Schuhmann mit herrischer Stimme, entließ den glühendheißen Liebesdolch aus ihrem eisernen Griff, packte den lüstern grunzenden Jungen fest an den strammen Pobacken und zog ihn mit aller Wucht zu sich heran.
Mit animalischer Wucht bohrte sich Martins roter Lustpfahl in Victorias Enddarm und die dabei orkanartig auf sie einstürzenden Gefühle ließen beide in ungezügelte Lustschreie ausbrechen. Als der dicke, lange Kolben in voller Länge in den heißen, engen Darm der reifen Frau vorgedrungen war, glitten Frau Schuhmanns Krallenhände von Martins zitternden Arschbacken zu seinen Handgelenken und brachten diese an ihren angewinkelten Kniekehlen in Stellung.
Mit einer Hand griff sie in Martins Nacken und zog den Kopf des Jungen herunter und mit gierigem Schlägen ihrer schlangengleichen Zunge leckte sie lüstern dessen lustverzerrtes Gesicht, bis auch Martins Zunge die Liebkosungen erwiderte.
Nach einigen Minuten des wilden Züngelns und Schleckens, in denen Martins harter Schwanz aber regungslos tief in Victorias Arschfotze verharrte, hatte sich die hemmungslose ‚feine Dame' einigermaßen an die mächtige Präsenz in ihrem Rektum gewöhnt und legte sich flach auf den Rücken.
Ihre angewinkelten Beine wurden dabei von Martins Händen hart gegen ihre wogenden Brüste gepresst, deren steil emporragende Nippel gleichzeitig von ihren ultralangen Nägeln heftig gequält wurden.
„Fick mich jetzt! Fick mich tief und hart!!" bettelte Victoria dumpf und leckte sich mit ihrer langen Zunge die geschwollenen Brustwarzen, während Martin in langsamen und tiefen Zügen seinen, zum Bersten geschwollenen Schwanz in einem gleichmäßigen Rhythmus schonungslos in ihren Hintereingang trieb.
Jedes Mal, wenn sein steinharter Liebesknochen in den engen und heißen Darmkanal, dessen schleimig schmierige Wände ihn hauteng umschlossen, vordrang, stöhnten beide aus tiefster Brust im Rausch ihrer Gefühle, um beim darauf folgenden Zurückziehen keuchend wieder einzuatmen und den dabei nachlassenden Pressdruck auf ihre umschlungenen Organe als kurze, aber wohltuende Erholung zu nutzen.
So fickten sie minutenlang mit langsam steigerndem Tempo und Martin, für den es sein erster Arschfick war, genoss die wohlige Enge die seinen Schwanz umhüllte und die totale Wolllust, in der sich die Mutter seiner Freundin vor ihm hingab, in faszinierter Glückseligkeit.
Unterbrochen wurde das gleichmäßige Stöhnen und Keuchen nur von Victorias obszönen Anfeuerungen, mit denen sie Martin aufforderte, sie noch härter und schneller zu stoßen. Sätze wie: „Los die geiler Fickhengst, gib' mir deinen harten Schwanz!" und „Benutz' mich! Fick mich kaputt!" oder „Ich spüre dich so tief in mir!", machten Martin völlig irre und sorgten dafür, dass er seinem Höhepunkt unweigerlich entgegen stieß.
Frau Schumann bemerkte, am sich steigernden Tempo und glasigen Blick des Jungen, dass es nicht mehr allzu lange dauern würde, bis er sich in ihren Darm ergießen würde und ließ von ihren prachtvollen Brüsten ab, um sich selbst, mittels ihrer dekadent Langnageligen Finger zum heiß ersehnten Orgasmus zu wichsen.
Als Martins verklärt blickende Augen sahen, wie die dunkelrot lackierten Nägel die fast ebenso rot leuchtenden Schamlippen teilten und der rosarot glänzende Kitzler immer schneller zwischen 2 Nägeln der anderen Hand, wie ein kleiner Penis gerieben wurde, war es um seine Beherrschung endgültig geschehen.
Tief in Victorias Prachtarsch versteifte sich das zuckende Rohr des Jungen nochmals und seine samenvollen Hoden zogen sich hoch bis fast unter die vibrierende Schwanzwurzel. Martin spürte deutlich, wie ihm der Saft aus den Eiern in die Latte schoss und schaffte noch einen letzten, finalen Stoß, der auch Victoria in einen Vulkan der Wollust stürzte.
„Oh ja, gib mir deinen heißen Saft! Spritz deine Geilheit tief in mich rein!!", brachte sie noch heiser heraus, bevor sie in einem tiefen Rausch der Leidenschaft versank, in dem wilde Zuckungen ihren ganzen Körper durchfuhren und alles was sie noch wahrnahm, war eine Flut von männlichen Samen, die sich Welle für Welle in ihrem tiefsten Inneren ergoss und alles andere hinfort spülte.
Martins Hände hatten sich unterdessen in Victorias vollem Tittenfleisch vergraben und heulend vor Lust pumpte er die Frucht seiner Lenden mit animalischer Wucht in die reife Frau, bis er schließlich schweißüberströmt auf ihrem drallen Luxuskörper zusammenbrach und mit dem Kopf zwischen ihren voluminösen Brüsten erst langsam wieder zur Besinnung kam.
„KLAPP - KLAPP - KLAPP", plötzlich durchschnitt ein langsames aber lautes Klatschen wie knallende Peitschenhiebe den Raum. Martin richtete sich erschrocken auf und sah in Richtung des sich nähernden Geräusches.
„Diana!!" entfuhr es ihm augenblicklich, als er erkannte, wer sich da mit langsamen Schritten dem immer noch fest umschlungenen Paar näherte. Reflexartig wollte er sich aus Victorias Hintern zurückziehen, doch die Frau hielt ihn mit ihren muskulösen Beinen in einer engen Umklammerung und ihre Hände drückten seinen Kopf zurück zwischen ihre steil aufragenden Brüste.
„SchSchSch!" flüsterte sie dem zu Tode erschrockenen Martin ins Ohr. „Keine Angst, mein Kleiner. Sie weiß schon lange, dass ich es mit dir machen wollte und es war ihre Idee, es heute zu tun!"
Ungläubig blickte Martin der Mutter seiner Freundin in die freudig funkelnden Augen und er begriff schließlich, dass diese, angeblich spontane Verführung ein bereits lange gehegter Plan von Mutter und Tochter gewesen sein musste.
Bevor er etwas sagen konnte, spürte er allerdings, wie sich Dianas lange Finger in seine Haare krallten und wie sie mit der anderen Hand fest nach seinem leer gepumpten Hodensack griff.
Martin stöhnte laut auf, als sich ihre kalten Finger um seine empfindlichsten Körperteile schlossen und er an Haaren und Eiern nach hinten gezogen wurde. Sein inzwischen nur noch halbharter Schwanz rutschte dabei mit einem schmatzenden Geräusch aus Victorias spermagetränktem Enddarm und pendelte schleimbeschmiert vor dem weit geöffneten Hinterteil seiner Schwiegermutter.
„Macht man denn so was?" hörte er Diana in sein linkes Ohr zischen während er spürte, wie sich ihre harten Nippel in seinen schweißüberströmten Rücken bohrten. „Einfach die Mutter seiner Freundin in den Arsch ficken, während die brav in der Schule ist?" Diana zog kräftiger an Martins Haaren und Hoden und dieser schüttelte mit Tränen des Schmerzes in den Augen seinen Kopf.
„Hat es dir etwa nicht gereicht, dass ich dir den Schwanz heute Morgen ausgesaugt habe? Konntest du etwa meiner Hure von Mutter nicht widerstehen? Hat sie dich so geil gemacht, das du dein dickes Ding in ihre Arschfotze stecken musstest?" Diana wurde mit jedem Satz lauter und Martin verneinte jede ihrer Fragen mit abermaligem Kopfschütteln.
Plötzlich ließ Diana Martins Haare los und ihre Hand wanderte langsam hinab, über seinen muskulösen Oberkörper, den durchtrainierten Bauch, bis an die Wurzel seines schleimig glänzenden Penis.
Ringförmig umfasste sie mit Daumen und Zeigefinger den halbharten Schaft und streifte langsam die Überreste von Martins und Victorias Lustsäften ab, die nun gallertartig an ihren schönen Langnageligen Fingern klebten.
Achtlos lies sie anschließend den sich langsam wieder aufrichtenden Schwanz los und hielt ihrer Mutter die besudelten Hand vor das lüstern lächelnde Gesicht. „Los Hure - du hast doch seinen Saft noch nicht gekostet, oder?" Victoria schüttelte langsam den Kopf. „Dann leck ihn mir von meinen Fingern!" herrschte Diana ihre Mutter mit gut gespielter Bosheit an und hielt Victoria die Hand mit gespreizten Fingern vor die leicht geöffneten, vollen Lippen.
Gierig und vor Wollust stöhnend schnellte Victorias lange Zunge hervor und leckte über die schleimtropfende Hand der eigenen Tochter, welche jeden Finger einzeln durch den durstigen Mund der Mutter gleiten ließ, bis sämtlich Samenreste ihres Freundes darin verschwunden waren.
„Köstlich, nicht wahr?" fragte Diana höhnisch und beugte sich hinunter, bis ihre Lippen sich sanft auf die ihrer lusttrunkenen Mutter legten und der zähe Spermasud zwischen den geöffneten Mündern der beiden Frauen hin und her wanderte.
Während die Zungen von Mutter und Tochter einen wilden Kampf um seinen verschossenen Samen fochten, war Martin von dem Anblick der sich ihm bot, nahezu betäubt. Erst jetzt sah er, dass Diana sich in einem schwarz glänzenden, im Schritt offenen Lackbody gezwängt hatte, der wahrscheinlich 2 Nummern zu klein war und der ihre weiblichen Formen überaus provozierend zur Schau stellte.
Zudem trug sie fast hüfthohe, ebenso schwarze Lackschaftstiefel mit 15 cm hohen Absätzen, durch deren extreme Fußstellung die prallen Rundungen ihres Hinterns extraordinär zur Geltung kamen. Ihr Gesicht war, ebenso, wie das ihrer Mutter stark und aufreizend in dunklen Farben geschminkt und in ihrem Outfit hätte sie jeder Domina der Herbertstraße die Schau stehlen können.
Also so hatte er seine Freundin noch nie zu Gesicht bekommen und langsam dämmerte ihm, dass er hier nur ein ‚Spielzeug' war, dass dem wahrscheinlich schon länger währenden, schamlosen Treiben zwischen einer sexhungrigen Mutter und ihrer dominanten Tochter als willkommene Abwechslung dienen sollte.
„Setz dich auf den Stuhl!" Dianas herrische Stimme riss Martin aus seinen Gedanken und widerspruchslos folgte er ihrem Befehl. „Wie ich sehe, gefällt es dir, dabei zuzusehen, wie meine verfickte Mutter und ich uns deinen Saft teilen!"
Diana deutete mit dem Zeigefinger auf Martins knallhart abstehendes Fickrohr, welches von dem vorangegangenen Arschfick noch rötlich pulsierte. „Ich wette, da, wo du deinen heißen Samen hineingespritzt hast, gibt es für mich noch viel mehr von der köstlichen Ficksahne zu holen!"
Mit einem eisernen Griff packte das platinblonde Mädchen seine Mutter im Genick und drückte ihren Kopf hinunter, bis die reife Frau, zwischen Martins Knien hockend, mit dem Gesicht zwischen seinen weit gespreizten Beinen steckte.
„Heb' deine Füße und stell' sie auf ihre Schultern!" befahl Diana weiter und platzierte Martins Füße links und rechts neben den blond gelocktem Kopf ihrer Mutter. Dadurch rutschte Victorias Gesicht zwischen seine Arschbacken und er konnte ihren heißen Atem am sensiblen Außenring seiner Rosette spüren.
Für Martin war der Blick, der sich ihm nun bot, nahezu göttlich:
Zwischen seinen weit gespreizten Beinen kniete eine überaus attraktive Frau Ende 30, mit dem Gesicht tief in seine Arschkerbe gedrückt, so dass er nur ihre, vor Geilheit funkelnden Augen und die blonden Locken sehen konnte, während hinter dem hoch emporgereckten Arsch dieser scheinbar willenlosen Sexfurie deren 18jährige Tochter in die Knie ging, um ihrer Mutter das Gros seines, vor wenigen Minuten in ihrem engen Darm entladenen Samens zu entlocken.
„Wichs' seinen Schwanz und leck' seinen Arsch, Hure!" schallte Dianas Stimme durch das Esszimmer und mit zwei klatschenden Bewegungen ergriff sie mit beiden Händen die voluminösen Arschbacken ihrer ergeben niederknienden Mutter.
„Aber untersteh' dich, ihn zum spritzen zu bringen!" schob sie noch kehlig hinterher, bevor auch ihr hübsches Mädchengesicht im Lustzentrum ihrer eigenen Mutter verschwand und ihre gelenkige Zunge sich mit wilden Schlägen den Weg tief in deren frisch gefickten Analkanal bohrte.
Mit exakt dem selben Eifer, wie sich ihre Tochter über ihr empfindsames Rektum hermachte, bedachte Victoria auch Martins Poloch mit heißen Zungenschlägen und nach einigen Umkreisungen der Zungenspitze um seine faltige Rosette, bohrte auch sie ihren lang gewachsenen Leckmuskel zentimetertief in sein jungfräuliches Arschloch.
Der Junge glaubte, vor Geilheit sterben zu müssen und stöhnte seine Lust mit tiefem Grunzen hinaus, während der Raum von Leck- und Sauglauten erfüllt war, die nur durch keuchende Seufzer der Gier nach sexueller Befriedigung unterbrochen wurden.
Diana züngelte dabei Schwall auf Schwall des kostbaren Jungmännersamens ihres Freundes aus dem weit offen stehenden Arschlochs ihrer völlig entfesselten Mutter, die ihrerseits den Enddarm ihres ‚Schwiegersohns' immer tiefer penetrierte und seine tief hängenden Hoden, sowie seinen stolz emporragenden Schwanz mit einer gekonnten Fingernagelmassage ihrer dekadent langen Krallen verwöhnte.
Als sich die schlanken Finger ihrer einzigen Tochter jedoch an Victorias blutrot geschwollenen Fotzenlippen zu schaffen machten und erst 2, dann 3 und schließlich 4 Finger ihres Kindes tief in ihren Lustkanal vordrangen, war es um Victoria Schumann endgültig geschehen.
Wild bockend fickte sie ihren prallen Unterleib der töchterlichen Hand entgegen und als Diana zusätzlich 2 Finger der anderen Hand in Mutters wundgelecktes Arschloch schob, explodierte die blonde Luxusfrau in einem Nerven zerreißenden Orgasmus, der ihren gesamten Körper erfasste und aus ihrer wild gefingerten Möse endlose Schübe weiblicher Ejakulationssaftes direkt in das liebliche Gesicht ihrer Tochter schießen lies.
Martin setzte sich auf und verfolgte dieses Schauspiel elementarer weiblicher Ekstase mit ungläubigen Blicken. Er hatte nicht gewusst, dass Frauen zu so etwas fähig waren, aber es erregte ihn ungemein, zu sehen, wie eine Tochter, um die speziellen Erregungspunkte der Mutter wissend, diese zu solch einem Dammbrechenden Höhepunkt treiben konnte.
Als die Langgezogenen Fontänen aus Victorias ekstatisch zuckender Fotze abebbten und die sonst so selbstsichere und elegante Frau nur noch ein wimmerndes Häufchen restlos befriedigter Weiblichkeit war, erhob sich Diana hinter dem niedergesunkenen Prachtarsch ihrer Mutter und schritt, besudelt vom Gesicht bis zu den Oberschenkeln mit mütterlichen Lustsekreten und Martins Samenresten auf den fassungslos starrenden Freund zu.
Wortlos griff sie mit einer Hand an seinen Mund, öffnete seine zittrigen Lippen und ließ, von oben herab, einen warmen Schwall des eigentümlich schmeckenden Suds in Martins hastig schluckende Kehle fließen. „Schmeckt sie dir auch so gut wie mir?" fragte sie den etwas irritierten Jungen und der antwortete ein knappes aber ehrliches „Ja, Diana! Sie schmeckt ebenso fantastisch wie Du!"
Diana lächelte erfreut und mit ihren Safttriefenden Händen schmierte sie Martins pochenden Riemen der Länge nach ein, während die vollen Lippen des jungen Liebespaares sich zu einem wilden und leidenschaftlichen Kuss trafen.
Anschließend öffnete das junge Mädchen den Reißverschluss, vorn an ihrem schwarzen Lackbody und schälte ihre vollen Prachtbrüsten aus den überquellenden Halbschalen. Neckisch spielten ihre langen Nägel an ihren steil abstehenden, Fingerhutgroßen Nippeln und Martins Schwanz zuckte beim Anblick der sich selbst stimulierenden Freundin.
Stolz drehte Diana sich auf ihren ultrahohen Fickstiefeln um und präsentierte dem gierenden Jungen den pfirsichförmigen, makellosen Knallarsch. Langsam durchfuhr ihr Zeigefinger die feuchte Furche ihrer Lustspalte und kratzte mit dem Nagel spielerisch über das rosI lockende Poloch.
„Hier will ich dich jetzt spüren!" gurrte sie mit sonorer Stimme und spreizte mit beiden Krallenhände ihre zarten Pohälften extrem weit auseinander. „Leck meinen Arsch!!!"
Martin ließ sich dies nicht zweimal sagen und rutsche von der Stuhlkante hinab auf seine Knie. Den herrlich duftenden, runden Prachthintern direkt vor Augen leckte er erst zärtlich und schließlich immer wilder durch die tiefe Kerbe und über den puckernden Schließmuskel, bis dieser wie von selbst nachgab und der Weg für seine neugierige Zunge in Dianas allerheiligsten Eingang frei war.
Irgendwann hatten seine Hände den Platz von Dianas eingenommen und massierten die fleischigen Arschbacken kraftvoll, während die zarten Finger des Mädchens erneut ihre fast schmerzhaft erregten Nippel und den fett hervorgetretenen Kitzler malträtierten.
So dauerte es schließlich nicht lange, bis auch die Tochter von einem markerschütternden Orgasmus gepackt wurde und ihr, lauthals aufjaulend, die warme Muschisoße in Sturzbächen über die nackten Oberschenkel und die schwarz glänzenden Schaftstiefel lief.
Erlöst und befriedigt sackte sie direkt über der noch immer daniederliegenden Mutter zusammen, doch Martin hatte noch nicht genug: Nun wollte auch er nochmals seine schier überschäumende Begierde stillen und hielt Dianas Hintern weiterhin im festen Griff seiner starken Hände.
Diana lag mit dem Oberkörper flach auf dem Boden und blickte erwartungsvoll nach hinten, als sie spürte, wie sich ihr Freund über ihrem hoch aufragenden Hintern in Position brachte. „Na mach schon - steck mir deinen harten Schwanz endlich rein!" röchelte sie mit letzter Kraft und fügte fast flehendlich hinzu:
„Aber mach es mir wie meiner Mutter: Fick mich in den Arsch!!!"
Martin stöhnte begeistert auf als er diese Worte hörte. Noch nie hatte er Diana dermaßen hemmungslos erlebt und selbst hätte er sich nie getraut, ihr so etwas vorzuschlagen. Aber wie die Mutter - so die Tochter und ohne weitere Überlegungen setzte er die pulsierende Krone seines knochenharten Lustspenders an Dianas zartes Poloch und drang langsam, mit angehaltenem Atem durch den elastischen Schließmuskel in das Ziel seiner geheimsten Wünsche ein.
Ein langezogenes und lautes „AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" ihrer Tochter ließ Victoria aus ihrem ekstatischen Delirium erwachen und als sie die Augen öffnete sah sie ein Bild, welches sie ihr Leben lang nicht mehr vergessen würde.
Direkt über ihrem Gesicht erkannte sie sogleich die Glattrasierte, makellos schöne Liebesgrotte ihrer geliebten Tochter und in dem kurz darüber sitzenden, extrem weit gespreizten Poloch steckte der adrige Prachtschwanz ihres Freundes und bohrte sich langsam aber stetig tiefer in den jungen Körper des Mädchens hinein.
„Oh Gott!!! Du bist so groß und so hart!!!" grölte Diana enthusiastisch heraus und als sie spürte, wie sich ein weiches Lippenpaar fest auf ihre triefend nassen Schamlippen presste und eine zärtliche Zunge ihren freigelegten Kitzler umspielte, lösten sich die restlichen Verspannungen ihrer Darmmuskeln in einer herrlichen Entspanntheit auf, so, dass der bohrende Dorn in ihrem Hintern wie durch warme Butter, bis zum Anschlag in ihren entkrampften Enddarm einfuhr.
Alle 3 Partner stöhnten lusterfüllt aus tiefster Kehle, als Martins Liebesstange komplett in Dianas weit gedehntem Rektum verschwunden war. Die beiden Jugendlichen aufgrund der überwältigenden Gefühle totaler körperlicher Verbundenheit und Victoria wegen des atemberaubend erotischen Anblicks, nur Zentimeter vor ihren wollüstig blickenden Augen.
Das Leben ist Gut!
by molicker
hart!!!" grölte Diana enthusiastisch heraus und als sie spürte, wie sich ein weiches Lippenpaar fest auf ihre triefend nassen Schamlippen presste und eine zärtliche Zunge ihren freigelegten Kitzler umspielte, lösten sich die restlichen Verspannungen ihrer Darmmuskeln in einer herrlichen Entspanntheit auf, so, dass der bohrende Dorn in ihrem Hintern wie durch warme Butter, bis zum Anschlag in ihren entkrampften Enddarm einfuhr.
Alle 3 Partner stöhnten lusterfüllt aus tiefster Kehle, als Martins Liebesstange komplett in Dianas weit gedehntem Rektum verschwunden war. Die beiden Jugendlichen aufgrund der überwältigenden Gefühle totaler körperlicher Verbundenheit und Victoria wegen des atemberaubend erotischen Anblicks, nur Zentimeter vor ihren wollüstig blickenden Augen.
Martins dickes Hodenpaar lag dabei schwer auf Victorias Stirn und als er seinen harten Schweif wieder langsam aus Dianas Arschkanal zurückzog, schliff sein tief herunterhängender Sack dabei geil durch die Blondgelockten Haare seiner immer wilder Tochterfotzenleckenden Schwiegermutter.
Langsam aber druckvoll schob der Junge seinen stahlharten Liebesdolch in dem hautengen Fickschacht seiner Freundin vor und zurück, wobei Victoria bei jedem erneuten Vordringen Dianas triefendes Mösenloch gierig abschleckte und bei jeder Rückwärtsbewegen Martins, dessen unbehaarten Eiersack mit ihrer unersättlichen Zunge verwöhnte.
„Oh Mami, das ist so gut!" stöhnte das Mädchen wollüstig, während ihre Mutter sich wieder einmal ihrer rosa schimmernden Klitoris widmete und gleichzeitig Victoria ihrer Tochter die eigene Spalte fordernd entgegenreckte.
Zwischen den spitzen Schreien und tiefem Grunzen von Mutter und Tochter hämmerte Martin inzwischen immer rücksichtsloser in den vor ihm prangenden Arsch und er spürte überdeutlich, wie sich ein gewaltiger Erguss den Weg von seinen hin und her schwingenden Klöten bis hoch in die hektisch zuckende Schwanzspitze bahnte.
Plötzlich waren auch Diana und Victoria am Gipfel ihrer inzestuösen Vereinigung angelangt und ihre gleichzeitigen Orgasmen entluden sich in überschäumenden Ejakulationen aus den wundgeleckten Löchern und überzogen die Gesichter der jeweils anderen mit Schwallen von herb duftender Fotzenbrühe.
In ihrem Nervenzerfetzenden Orgasmus krampfte sich Dianas Schließmuskel dermaßen eng um Martins Schwanzwurzel, dass sein eigener Erguss nicht mehr möglich war und vor Enttäuschung und mit allerletzter Kraft packte er die wogenden Arschbacken des Mädchens und drückte sie brutal von seinem zuckenden Riemen herunter.
Befreit von dem höllischen Druck um den hochroten Penisschaft schoss sein brodelnder Samen dem nach vorn geruckten Prachtarsch hinterher und der erste, knallharte Strahl traf mitten in das sich in ekstatischen Orgasmuszuckungen öffnende und schließende Arschloch seiner hysterisch kreischenden Freundin.
Sofort krallten sich Victorias leicht gebogene Fingernägel um den speienden Phallus und drückten die unablässig pumpende, lila leuchtende Eichel in ihren gierig aufgerissenen Mund, der Schub um Schub der nahrhaften Eiersoße in sich aufnahm.
Als Martin schon glaubte, das nimmersatte Weib würde ihm auch noch das Rückenmark aus dem arg geschundenen Saftkolben saugen, ließ Victoria seine nun überempfindliche Eichel aus ihrem betörenden Mund gleiten, der randvoll mit seinem milchig weißen Liebessaft gefüllt war.
Veronica schloss die vollen Lippen wieder und dabei rann ein dünnes Rinnsal aus ihrem Mundwinkel, lief langsam über ihre roten Wangen, bis zum schlanken Hals und sammelte sich unterhalb ihres Kehlkopfes in einer winzigen Hautvertiefung.
Um den köstlichen Nektar zu schlucken, musste sie sich allerdings aus ihrer liegenden Position erheben und als sie das tat, wahr auch Diana sogleich neben ihr und leckte ihrer Mutter fordernd mit lüstern ausgestreckte Zunge über die dunkelrot geschminkten und mit Samenfäden bedeckten Lippen.
Wohlig seufzend und den Rest der Welt völlig vergessend, trafen sich die halboffenen Münder von Mutter und Tochter zu einem minutenlangem, herzzerreißenden Kuss. Dabei teilten und tauschten sie den warmen Samen des gemeinsamen Liebhabers miteinander, bis jede einen großen Schluck hörbar genüsslich hinunterschluckte und dem erschöpften aber unendlich glücklichen Martin tief in die Augen blickte.
Martin hingegen war kraftlos und vollkommen erschossen auf dem hinter ihm stehenden Stuhl zusammengesunken, saugte das megaerotische Bild, dass seine wunderschöne Freundin und deren ebenso attraktive Mutter ihm boten, förmlich in sich auf und dachte:
„DAS LEBEN IST GUT!"
-
Die Chefin
-=Die Chefin=-
AutorIn: molicker
eMail: Der Autor kann nur via Web-Formular auf sevac.com kontaktiert werden!
Datum: 11.2003
Quelle: Autor
---------------------------------------------------- - --- -
Die Chefin
Frank war seit knapp 3 Monaten Auszubildender in einem Steuerbüro einer
niedersächsischen Kleinstadt. Nach dem Abitur hatte er sich hier beworben
und war aus mehr als 30 Bewerbern ausgewählt worden - was vielleicht auch
daran lag, dass seine Mutter und die Frau des Steuerberaters sich schon
seit ihrer Kindheit kannten. Diese hatte ihrem Mann bei der Auswahl der
Bewerber immer wieder vorgeschwärmt, was für ein fleißiger und tüchtiger
Junge Frank doch sei, bis dieser schließlich einwilligte und statt eines
jungen Mädchens, erstmals einen männlichen Auszubildenden einstellte.
Frank war auch wirklich ein strebsames junger Mann und gerade 18 Jahre alt
geworden, aber sein Chef, der außer ihm der einzige Mann in dem 12
Mitarbeiter zählenden Steuerbüro war, verlangte von ihm auch den doppelten
Einsatz wie von den anderen, weiblichen Azubis. Doch heute Morgen war sein
Chef auf ein einwöchiges Seminar in Süddeutschland gefahren und in der
Zwischenzeit leitete seine Frau, Christine Herzog, die ebenfalls
Steuerberaterin war, das Büro. Als einziger "Mann" zwischen so vielen
Frauen hatte es Frank nun nicht leicht und war froh, als sich der
Arbeitstag dem Ende näherte, denn allzu oft machten die Frauen anzügliche
Andeutungen und lachten sich kaputt, wenn Frank verschämt wegguckte und
ein ums andere Mal puterrot wurde. Er wusste zwar in der Theorie über
körperliche Liebe und Sex ganz gut bescheid, aber selbst hatte er noch
keine Freundin gehabt, mit der er so etwas ausprobieren konnte, was wohl
daran lag, dass er ein bisschen schüchtern war und sich nicht traute, auf
die Mädchen zuzugehen, denn hässlich war er keineswegs.
Es war aber insgesamt ein ruhiger Arbeitstag gewesen, bis plötzlich kurz
vor Feierabend die Chefin aus ihrem Büro kam und zielstrebig auf Franks
Schreibtisch zusteuerte. Sie war zwar bereits knapp über vierzig Jahre alt
(schätzte Frank jedenfalls, da sie im selben Alter wie seine Mutter sein
musste) aber nichtsdestotrotz sehr gepflegt und attraktiv, mit einer
Figur, um die sie nicht nur die anderen Frauen im Büro nur beneiden
konnten. Ihr hellblondes, leicht gewelltes Haar trug sie heute mal wieder
offen, was Frank besonders gut gefiel. Über einer weißen Bluse hatte sie
einen eng anliegenden schwarzen Blazer angezogen und passend dazu trug sie
einen überaus knappen, samtig glänzenden schwarzen Rock, der sehr viel von
ihren langen schlanken, in schwarze Nylons gehüllten Beinen preisgab. Auf
ihren hochhackigen, schwarzen Pumps stolzierte sie mit sicheren Schritten
auf Frank zu und legte ihm ein hand beschriebenes DIN A4-Blatt auf den
Schreibtisch. "Könntest du das für mich noch schnell abtippen?" fragte sie
ihn lächelnd und fügte lächelnd hinzu: "Ich erwische mit meinen langen
Nägeln so oft die falschen Tasten und möchte sie mir nicht auch noch
abbrechen. Wenn es etwas länger dauern sollte, darfst du morgen dafür
früher gehen." "Kein Problem, mach ich doch gern, Frau Herzog!" erwiderte
Frank und sah ihr unvermittelt auf die schlanken Hände, mit denen sie sich
lässig auf seinem Schreibtisch abstützte. Ihre knallrot lackierten
Fingernägel waren wirklich sehr lang gewachsen, aber sorgfältig gepflegt
und gefeilt, so dass man unschwer erkennen konnte, das sie eine elegante,
wohlhabende Frau war, die es nicht nötig hatte selbst zu arbeiten und sich
viel lieber den angenehmen Dingen des Lebens hingab. Sie trug auch immer
reichlich Schmuck, selbst hier im Büro, der sie, zusammen mit dem
auffälligen Make-up, mehr wie einen Hollywoodstar, denn wie die Chefin
eines Steuerbüros aussehen ließ. Als sie bemerkte, dass Frank ihr
bewundernd auf die Hände starrte, beugte sie sich noch etwas tiefer zu ihm
hinunter, so dass er einen hervorragenden Blick in ihre tief
ausgeschnittene Bluse haben musste, unter der sich die üppigen Rundungen
ihrer Brüste verbargen. "Das ist sehr nett von dir - ich überlege mir was,
wie ich das wieder gut machen kann", flüsterte sie nun fast. "Wenn du damit
fertig bist, bring es mir doch bitte in mein Büro - ja?" sagte sie und
richtete sich wieder auf, was Frank aus seinen Gedanken riss. "N -
Natürlich Frau Herzog, geht klar!" rief er ihr noch schnell hinterher, als
sie schon wieder stolzen Schrittes das Großraumbüro verließ.
Nach und nach machten alle anderen Kolleginnen Feierabend und schließlich
war Frank der letzte in dem großen Büro. Eifrig tippte er die umfangreiche
Aktennotiz in den Computer, was ziemlich lange dauerte, denn er musste
immer wieder an seine Chefin denken und wie aufreizend sie ihm vorhin
gegenübergetreten war. Bisher war sie immer recht kühl und distanziert
gewesen, aber vielleicht genoss sie es ja auch, dass ihr Mann nicht
anwesend war und sie nun nach belieben im Büro schalten und walten konnte.
Nach einer Dreiviertelstunde war er aber endlich fertig und ließ die
Aktennotiz noch schnell ausdrucken. Draußen dämmerte es bereits und Frank
ging mit den Unterlagen in der Hand durch das menschenleere Büro bis zur
Tür des Chefzimmers. Dort klopfte er höfflich an und hörte von innen die
Stimme von Frau Herzog: "Komm ruhig rein, ich warte schon auf dich!" Frank
trat ein und schloss hinter sich die Tür. Frau Herzog saß entspannt
zurückgelehnt in dem großen ledernen Chefsessel ihres Mannes und zündete
sich gerade genüsslich eine Zigarette an. Ihren Blazer hatte sie
ausgezogen und ihre langen Beine elegant übereinander gelegt. "Bist du
endlich fertig geworden? Zeig mal her!" sagte sie in strengem Ton und ließ
sich von Frank die Papiere geben. Ohne sie auch nur anzusehen nahm sie den
Stapel und zerriss ihn mit den Händen in kleine Fetzen. Frank stand vor
dem großen massiven Holzschreibtisch und wusste nicht, was er davon halten
sollte. "Aber - aber ich dachte sie wollten dass ich das abtippe?",
stotterte er unsicher. "Dass hasst du ja auch ganz brav gemacht",
erwiderte sie mit einem überlegenen Lächeln, "aber jetzt möchte ich etwas
anderes von dir!" Sie nahm einen tiefen Zug an der Zigarette und blies den
Rauch mit geschürzten Lippen in Franks Gesicht. Die Art, wie sie die
Zigarette damenhaft zwischen ihren langen Fingern hielt und lustvoll daran
zog ließ Frank schon wieder einen wohligen Schauer durch den Körper
gleiten. Der Raum war nur durch die Schreibtischlampe eher schwach
beleuchtet aber der Lichtkegel viel direkt auf die attraktivste und
erotischste Frau, die er sich vorstellen konnte - seine Chefin. "Nimm mir
das mal bitte ab und mach sie aus", wies sie ihn an und hielt ihm die halb
aufgerauchte Kippe entgegen. Frank ging um den großen Schreibtisch herum
und mit feuchten Händen nahm er ihr die Zigarette aus den Fingern um sie
im Aschenbecher auszudrücken. "Gefällt es dir eigentlich bei uns?" fragte
ihn Frau Herzog und saß nun aufrecht in dem schwarzen Ledersessel. "Ja,
natürlich Frau Herzog", antwortete Frank höflich und sah, wie sie langsam
damit begann, mit ihren langen Fingernägeln die Knöpfe der engen Bluse zu
öffnen. "Weißt du eigentlich, dass ich es war, die darauf bestanden hat,
dich hier einzustellen?" fragte sie nun und Frank stierte mit immer größer
werdenden Augen auf ihre großen festen Brüste, die nur noch halb vom Stoff
der fast gänzlich geöffneten Bluse bedeckt waren. "Ich habe dich was
gefragt, kannst du nicht antworten?" zischte ihn seine Chefin streng an
und hastig erwiderte er: "Wie - Was - Ich weiß nicht, Frau Herzog." "Nun",
fuhr sie fort, "ich kenne ja deine Mutter schon eine ganze Ewigkeit und
habe mich halt für dich ein bisschen verantwortlich gefühlt, mein Junge.
Darum habe ich bei meinem Mann ein gutes Wort für dich eingelegt und ich
hoffe doch, dass du mich nicht enttäuschen wirst." Dabei ließ sie ihre
Bluse hinunter gleiten und begann langsam mit ihren schlanken Händen ihre
schneeweißen, melonengroßen Brüste zu massieren. Frank konnte nicht fassen
was sich hier abspielte. Vor ihm saß die begehrenswerteste Frau die er
kannte und spielte scheinbar hemmungslos mit dem perfektesten Paar Titten,
das eine Frau ihres Alters haben konnte. Dass sie seine Chefin war und
obendrein vom Alter her seine Mutter sein könnte vergaß er völlig und er
genoss den Anblick des wogenden Tittenfleisches in vollen Zügen. "Du
willst doch immer das tun was ich dir sage, oder?" fragte sie ihn nun
neckisch und leckte sich mit ihrer langen Zunge langsam über die vollen,
knallroten Lippen. Nie hätte er diese Frage verneinen können und stammelte
nur: "Für sie würde ich alles tun, Frau Herzog!" "So ists recht, mein
Junge! Mit dieser Einstellung wirst du es hier noch weit bringen!" lobte
sie, spreizte ihre endlos langen Beine und legte die drallen Oberschenkel
über die breiten Armlehnen des Chefsessels. Frank sah nun direkt auf ihre
blank rasierte, feucht glänzende Luxusmöse die sie ihm provozierend
entgegenstreckte. "Hasst du so etwas schon mal gesehen?" fragte sie und
langsam glitten ihre Hände hinunter, von den schweren Brüsten an das im
Schein der Schreibtischlampe schimmernde Loch. Langsam registrierte Frank,
dass sie weder BH noch einen Slip trug und dieses Schauspiel von langer
Hand geplant haben musste. Mit zittriger Stimme antwortete er: "Noch
niemals habe ich so etwas Schönes gesehen, Frau Herzog. Sie sind einfach
wundervoll und ich könnte sie stundenlang nur ansehen!" "Na schau mal
einer an, wie gewählt der Kleine sich ausdrücken kann!" lachte sie nun
laut auf und fuhr sich mit den Fingern beider Hände abwechseln durch die
rosa Schamlippen. "In solchen Situationen bevorzuge ich allerdings eine
etwas andere Sprache!" kam es ihr nun etwas ernster über die Lippen: "Zieh
dich aus und zeig mir deinen harten Schwanz! Ich weiß doch schon lange dass
er jedes Mal steif wird, wenn du mich ansiehst, du kleiner geiler Spanner!"
Damit hatte sie bei Frank mitten ins Schwarze getroffen und hastig riss er
sich förmlich die Klamotten vom Leib. Splitternackt stand er nun direkt
vor dem Sessel seines Chefs, auf dem dessen Frau sich nun wieder
aufreizend zurücklehnte. Voller Bewunderung starrte sie auf Franks enormen
Penis, der waagerecht von seinem jugendlichen Körper abstand und zu einem
stattlichen Rohr angeschwollen war. "Hätte ich gleich gewusst, dass du so
gut bestückt bist, hätte ich schon viel früher mit deiner Ausbildung
begonnen!" murmelte sie anerkennend und begann, sich mit einer Hand den
sich rapide vergrößernden Kitzler zu reiben, während die andere erneut die
steil abstehenden Nippel ihrer göttlichen Brüste zwischen den langen Nägeln
zwirbelte. "Ich will sehen, wie du dir deinen prächtigen Schwanz wichst!"
befahl sie ihm und begann leise zu stöhnen.
Frank war nicht fähig auch nur einen Mucks von sich zu geben. Wie
automatisch folgte er der Aufforderung seiner Chefin und umfasste mit der
rechten Hand seinen vollständig erigierten Penis um ihn sogleich heftig zu
wichsen. "Nicht so schnell, du kleine geile Sau!" herrschte Frau Herzog ihn
an: "Mach es schön langsam und knete dir mit der anderen Hand deine dicken
Eier! Ich möchte den Anblick deiner Jugendhaften Geilheit so lange wie
möglich genießen!" Frank gehorchte und verlangsamt seine Wichsbewegungen.
Laut aufstöhnend ergriff er mit der linken Hand seinen prallen Hodensack
und drückte die Sperma gefüllten Kugeln, dass sie hühnereigroß
hervortraten. All dies verfolgte seine Chefin mit glänzenden Augen und
verstärkte die Reizungen ihrer hoch erregten Geschlechtsorgane immer
weiter. Aus der weit geöffneten Möse quoll immer mehr Saft und rann über
den kurzen Damm bis zu ihrem caramelfarbenen Arschloch, um sich dort zu
sammeln und in dicken Fäden auf das schwarze Leder des Chefsessels zu
fließen. Die schweren, aber überaus festen Brüste hob sie abwechselnd mit
einer Hand an und saugte sich selbst die dick geschwollenen Brustwarzen in
den gierigen Mund, den Blick entweder auf Franks Schwanz und Eier gerichtet
oder aber tief in seine verklärten Augen schauend. Frank war aufgrund der
mehr als prallen Weiblichkeit, die sich ihm hier so schonungslos
präsentierte, völlig weggetreten. Er glaubte zu träumen und hoffte, dass
dieser Traum niemals enden würde. Seine Augen verschlungen den sich immer
heftiger windenden und zuckenden Frauenleib förmlich und er merkte, wie
auch ihm, trotz der Langsamkeit seiner Wichsbewegungen, unaufhaltsam der
Saft in die Höhe stieg. Schon entließ seine Eichel eine deftige Menge an
klarer Vorschmiere, die in einem langen Faden direkt auf den hochhackigen
Lackschuhen von Frau Herzog landete. Diese bemerkte natürlich sofort die
überquellende Erregung ihres jungen Bewunderers und hielt für einen Moment
in ihrer schamlosen Selbstbefriedigung inne. "Hab ich dir erlaubt, deine
Geilschmiere auf meine teuren Schuhe zu Seimen, du ungezogener Junge?" Sie
sprach diese Worte zwar in einem ernsten Ton, aber ihre lächelnden Augen
verrieten, dass sie über die große Menge der Vorbotschaft seiner nahenden
Ejakulation mehr als Erfreut war. "Ich - Ich kann es nicht mehr lange
halten, Frau Herzog, sie sind so wundervoll - ich kann doch nichts dafür!"
stammelte Frank mit gebrochener Stimme. "Dann lass jetzt deinen Schwanz
los!" forderte seine Chefin in unvermittelt auf und richtete sich wieder
aus ihrer halb liegenden Position auf. "Noch bin ich nicht gekommen, also
wirst du dich auch noch beherrschen müssen!" Sie zog sich nun die voll
geseimten Pumps aus und führte sie nacheinander an ihren lüstern
geöffneten Mund, um mit der heraus gestreckten Zunge genüsslich die klare
Schmiere vom schwarzen Lack zu lecken. "Köstlich, deine Vorschmiere!"
stöhnte sie genießerisch: Elegant führte sie danach die hochhackigen
Schuhe an ihre triefende Möse und ließ erst den einen und dann den anderen
Absatz tief in dem lodernden Loch verschwinden. "OOOOOOOOh das ist
geil!!!!!!!!!" stöhnte sie und fickte sich selbst mit ihren Pumps, bis sie
kurz vor dem ersehnten Höhepunkt war. Tief steckten die Hacken in der
überkochenden Fotze als sie wie wild zu zucken begann und mit einem
Fingernagel den pochenden, nass glänzenden Kitzler bearbeitete. "Los,
wichs dich wieder - ich will jetzt deinen heißen Samen auf mir spüren!
Mach dich fertig und spritz deine geile Soße auf mich! Ich komme
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" schrie sie Frank entgegen und wand sich direkt vor ihm in
allerhöchster Wollust, während die Pumps aus ihrer brodelnden Möse glitten
und zu Boden vielen. Frank ergriff sofort wieder sein hartes Rohr und schon
nach wenigen Wichsbewegungen schleuderte er seiner keuchenden Chefin dicke
Brocken glühendheißen Spermas entgegen, dass wie zähflüssige Lava in ihr
aufreizend geschminktes Gesicht und auf die Lust strotzenden Titten
klatschte. Gierig, in vollendeter Geilheit, leckte ihre lange Zunge nach
der frischen Sahne seiner jugendlichen Hoden und in immer neuen Schüben
ergoss sich die weiße Soße über ihren gesamten, im Orgasmusrausch bebenden
Körper, bis der letzte Tropfen in einem langen Faden von ihren Fingern
aufgefangen und lüstern abgeleckt wurde. Franks Knie zitterten und wie im
Dunstschleier seines bisher heftigsten Abgangs sah er, wie seine Chefin
sich die Frucht seiner Lenden mit gespreizten Fingern über den Körper rieb
und anschließend die besudelten Hände mit tiefen Lustseufzern abschleckte.
"Ich liebe es, in jungem Sperma zu baden! Ihr Jungs habt immer so viel
Saft im Schwanz und ich kann nicht genug davon bekommen!" hörte er sie
sagen und mit Samen beschmiertem Gesicht blickte sie ihm lächelnd tief in
die Augen.
Wie vor einer Göttin sackt Frank vor seiner Chefin auf die Knie und
gestand ihr voller Erfurcht seine innige Zuneigung: "Frau Herzog, sie sind
für mich die wundervollste Frau auf dieser Welt und ich bete sie an!"
Christine Herzog war sichtlich gerührt ob dieser ehrlichen Bewunderung
ihrer strotzenden Reize. Wortlos nahm sie Franks feuchte Hände in die
ihren und legte sie sanft auf ihre saftig glänzenden Brüste. "Du bist
jetzt soweit zu lernen, wie ein Mann eine Frau glücklich machen kann,
meine junger Spritzer. Berühre mich und fühle, welche Wonnen ich dir
schenken kann, wenn du weiterhin ein gehorsamer Lehrling bist!" sprach sie
und presste Franks Hände fest gegen ihr pralles Tittenfleisch. Er fühlte
deutlich, wie sich ihre steinharten Nippel tief in seine Handflächen
bohrten und begann, die festen, großen Euter seiner Chefin langsam, mit
jeder Faser seiner tastenden Finger zu erkunden. Sie fühlten sich weich
aber zugleich unsagbar stramm an und Frank konnte der Versuchung kaum
widerstehen, diese perfekt geformten Attribute ihrer reifen Weiblichkeit
mit seinen Lippen und seiner Zunge zu liebkosen. Als hätte sie seine
Gedanken lesen können, forderte Frau Herzog ihn leise stöhnend auf: "Saug
an meinen Knospen, mein Kleiner. Lass mich spüren wie sehr du dich danach
gesehnt hast!" Dabei reckte sie ihm ihren Oberkörper mit den prall
abstehenden Brüsten noch weiter entgegen und drückte seinen Kopf
abwechselnd direkt auf die saugbereiten, dunkelbraunen Warzen. Vor wieder
aufsteigender Geilheit schnaufend, lutschte, leckte und saugte Frank die
reifen Blüten seiner angebeteten Lehrherrin, was diese mit ebenso
wiederkehrender Erregung genoss und sich die jeweils freie Brustwarze
selbst mit der lüsternen Zunge verwöhnte. Von seinem vorherigen Erguss
waren die drallen Euter noch schmierig und glitschig, so dass ihre langen
Fingernägel sich fest in das lüsterne Fleisch krallten, damit ihren
leckenden Zungen die hoch erregten Nippel nicht entglitten. "So machst du
es richtig!" lobte sie den immer heftiger saugenden Frank, "ich wünschte
ich könnte dir warme Milch aus meinen Eutern schenken!" Frank machten ihre
Worte halb wahnsinnig vor Geilheit und lustvoll grunzend vergrub er sein
Gesicht zwischen ihren glänzenden Tittenbergen, bis er fast zu ersticken
drohte. Heftig nach Luft ringend zog er nach einer Weile seinen hochroten
Kopf aus der sanften Umklammerung und sah, wie sich Frau Herzog von dem
großen Ledersessel ihres Mannes erhob und nun mit leicht gespreizten
Beinen vor ihm stand, während er noch, wie ein winselnder Hund, auf dem
dunkelroten Teppich kniete. Sie löste elegant den Gürtel ihres knappen
Rockes und ließ diesen zu Boden gleiten. "Zieh mir jetzt die Pumps wieder
an!" befahl sie ihrem willigen Diener, hob langsam einen Fuß und stellte
ihn Frank auf die Schulter.
Dieser nahm den passenden Schuh und stülpte ihn über den
nylonbestrumpften, schlanken Fuß seiner Chefin. Nachdem er Frau Herzog
auch den anderen Schuh mit derselben Prozedur wieder angezogen hatte,
stand sie nun breitbeinig vor ihm und sein Blick blieb fasziniert auf
ihrer rasierten Muschi und den geschwollen feuchten Schamlippen hängen.
"Na mein Kleiner, da würdest du wohl auch gern Mal dran lutschen!" riss
sie ihn mit lauter Stimme aus seinen Gedanken und fuhr sich mit dem
ausgestreckten Mittelfinger der linken Hand langsam durch die glitschige
Spalte. "Oh ja, bitte Frau Herzog, das wäre das größte für mich!" bettelte
Frank wie ein kleines Kind und sah, wie ihr Mittelfinger tief in dem Lust
verheißenden Loch verschwand. Langsam zog sie den nun saftig glänzenden
Finger wieder aus sich heraus und hielt ihn Frank an die bebenden Lippen.
"Weil du bisher so brav warst, darfst du mal kosten!" sagte sie mit warmer
Stimme und schob ihm den langen Fingernagel in den dürstenden Mund. Er
leckte und saugte den frischen Mösenschleim von ihrem Finger und der
würzige Geschmack ihrer Weiblichkeit ließ ihn dankbar aufstöhnen.
Franks kraftstrotzendes Glied war, nachdem es bereits einmal seinen Samen
verspritzt hatte, kaum kleiner geworden, aber als das Aroma des
Scheidensekretes auf seine Geschmacksnerven traf, wuchs er nochmals um ein
gehöriges Stück an. Das blieb Christine Herzogs erfahrenen Augen natürlich
nicht verborgen und anerkennend sagte sie: "Wie ich sehe, ist dein junger
Hengstschwanz schon wieder bereit für eine kleine Sonderbehandlung!" Sie
zog Frank an seinen Haaren nach oben und als er vor ihr stand ergriff sie
fest seinen steinharten Stamm und drückte ihn so stark, das er vor Schmerz
zurückzuckte, um sich ihrer Umklammerung zu entziehen. Doch ihr Griff war
zu fest und an seiner schmerzenden Wurzel zog sie Frank wieder dicht zu
sich heran. "Entspanne dich, und setze dich in den Sessel. Es wird auch
bestimmt nicht wehtun!" sprach sie nun sanft, führte ihren jungen Lehrling
an seinem Glied zu dem Ledersessel und stieß ihn sachte auf das weiche
Polster. Auf der Sitzfläche lag von ihren selbst zugeführten Orgasmen noch
eine Lache aus Fotzensaft und milchigem Sperma, in die Franks schwere Hoden
nun mit einem klatschenden Geräusch eintauchten. "Lehn dich zurück und
genieße - ich zeige dir jetzt was eine richtige Frau alles mit deinem
Zauberstab machen kann!" sagte sie mit funkelnden Augen und kniete sich
direkt vor ihn. "Du hast wirklich einen wunderschönen Schwanz, mein Junge.
Genau so, wie ich ihn haben will!", hauchte sie und strich mit den langen
Nägeln langsam über die Unterseite des steil emporragenden Penis.
Genussvoll leckte Frau Herzog sich nun die knallrot geschminkten Lippen,
und näherte sich mit gierig geöffnetem Mund der purpurroten, glänzenden
Eichel. Zärtlich nuckelten ihre vollen Lippen an der pulsierenden
Schwanzspitze, während ihre Hand liebevoll den harten Schaft umfasste und
gefühlvoll auf und abwichste. Die andere Hand legte sie sanft auf Franks
beschmierten Hodensack, um die sich wieder füllenden Eier mit den Spitzen
ihrer langen Nägel zu kraulen. Frank dankte ihr die lustvollen
Liebkosungen seiner bisher nur von ihm selbst berührten Geschlechtsorgane
mit einem tiefen Stöhnen und konnte vor Erregung nur heiser flüstern: "Sie
sind so gut zu mir, Frau Herzog. Das ist das Schönste was ich je erlebt
habe!" Gerührt lächelte seine Chefin in an und sprach: "Ich weiß, mein
Junge, aber es wird gleich noch tausendmal Schöner werden!" Vorsichtig hob
sie nun mit einer Hand den prallen Hodensack an und leckte erst langsam und
dann immer gieriger den sämigen Schleim in welchem er gelegen hatte von der
faltigen Haut und den dicken Klöten. Danach ließ sie das schwere Gehänge
wieder in den zähen Brei eintauchen, umschloss anschließend jedes Ei
einzeln mit ihrem warmen Mund und saugte voller Hingabe den Sud ihrer
beider Lust in ihre Kehle. Dabei schaute sie Frank mit durchbohrendem
Blick in die Augen und fuhr laut schmatzend mit der mündlichen Reinigung
seiner Hoden fort, bis kein Tropfen Mösensaft und Spermas mehr an ihnen
klebte. Unterdessen streichelte und wichste sie sein pochendes Glied sehr
langsam und unendlich zärtlich, so dass seine Erregung stetig wuchs, aber
den heiklen Punkt der Ejakulation noch nicht überschritt. "Zieh deine
Beine an und leg deine Füße auf den Sessel", forderte Frau Herzog Frank
nun auf und da er ihr mittlerweile hoffnungslos verfallen war, folgte er
ihren Anweisungen, ohne sich zu fragen, was sie dadurch bezweckte. Er
rutschte mit dem Hintern ein Stück nach hinten, zog seine Beine so weit er
konnte an seinen Körper und lehnte seine Füße gegen die breit gepolsterten
Armlehnen. In dieser Position kam er sich vor wie ein auf dem Rücken
liegender Käfer, der einer nach seinem Lebenssaft lechzenden Spinne
hilflos ausgeliefert war. Doch er genoss das Gefühl, sich diesem
göttlichen Weib völlig hingeben zu können und konnte es kaum erwarten,
dass sie ihre Liebkosungen fortsetzte.
Cristine Herzog ließ ihre schlanken Hände mit den scharfen Krallen nun
leicht kratzend über die Innenseiten von Franks Oberschenkel gleiten, bis
sie seinen Hintern erreichten. Dort umfasst sie die knackigen Arschbacken
und drückte diese weit auseinander. "Du hast so einen schönen jungen Arsch
- richtig zum anknabbern!" sagte sie und ihre Zunge leckte wieder sinnlich
über die vollen Lippen. Sachte senkte sich ihr blond gelockter Kopf
zwischen seine Beine, aber anstatt über den harten Phallus herzufallen,
nährte sie ihren geöffneten Mund Franks gespreiztem Anus. Ihre weichen
Lippen umschlossen sein jungfräuliches Arschloch gefühlvoll und ihre
lüsterne Zunge begann, denn faltigen Kranz zu erkunden. Frank röhrte ob
dieser ungeahnten Wohlgefühle an seinem Hinterausgang wie ein brunftiger
Hirsch und spürte nun, wie ihre Krallen die zitternden Arschmuskel noch
etwas weiter auseinander pressten, damit sich die feuchte Zunge seiner
Chefin den Weg durch seinen engen Schließmuskel in den Enddarm bohren
konnte. Immer tiefer wurde er förmlich von ihrem zuckenden Leckinstrument
in den Arsch gefickt, bis er vor Geilheit nur noch leise wimmern konnte:
"Machen sie mit mir was sie wollen, Frau Herzog. Ich will bis in alle
Ewigkeit ihr williger Sexsklave sein!" Seine Chefin erhob ihren Kopf,
nachdem sie noch einmal ausgiebig den äußeren Ring seines Enddarms mit
ihrem Speichel benetzt hatte und sprach mit ernster Miene: "Ob du das Zeug
dazu hast, mein Sklave zu sein, werden wir gleich feststellen!" Sie nahm
eine Hand von seinem Hintern und steckte sich den Zeigefinger lüstern in
den Mund, leckte und lutschte daran, bis sie ihn nass glänzend wieder
herauszog. "Atme ruhig und entspann dich - dann kannst du es genießen!"
sagte sie lüstern lächelnd und strich mit der Spitze des langen Nagels
ihres Zeigefingers über seinen Damm, bis zu Franks Speichelbeschmiertem
Arschloch. Dort verharrte sie einen kurzen Moment und umfasste mit der
anderen Hand seine Schwanzwurzel und den flaumig behaarten Hodensack. Ihre
Lippen waren nur Millemeter von seiner violetten Eichel entfernt, als sie
mit bebender Stimme sagte: "Öffne dich mir ganz und ich schenke dir das
höchste Glück auf Erden!" Im selben Augenblick, wie sich ihr feuchtwarmer
Mund über seine pochende Eichel schob, drang ihr langer Fingernagel in
seinen Anus ein und bohrte sich in schier endlosen Minuten immer tiefer in
Franks engen Enddarm. Mit derselben Langsamkeit verschlang ihr grunzender
Mund den stocksteifen Riemen, während ihre gelenkige Zunge an seiner
Unterseite auf und nieder schleckte. Frank wusste nicht, ob er vor
Schmerzen, durch die Penetration seines Rektums, oder vor Geilheit, durch
den ersten Mundfick seines Lebens, laut aufschreien sollte. So brachte er
nur ein unverständliches Jaulen zustande und ergab sich seinem Schicksal.
Frau Herzog registrierte dies mit wohligem Stöhnen und als sein Schaft
gänzlich in ihrem weit geöffneten Mund verschwunden war, hatte sie ihm
auch ihren Finger in ganzer Länge eingeführt. Dabei schaute sie ihm
lüstern in die Augen und laut sabbernd und glucksend entließ sie seinen
Schwanz wieder aus ihrem Mund und auch ihr Arsch fickender Finger zog sich
fast wieder ganz aus ihm zurück. Voller Bewunderung blickte sie auf das von
ihrer Spucke feucht glänzende Rohr und hauchte: "Er schmeckt wirklich
einmalig, dein langer harter Schwanz!" und sogleich stülpte sie ihre
heißen Lippen wieder über den nassen Schaft. Auf und ab lutschte ihr
erfahrener Mund nun immer heftiger an dem Objekt ihrer Begierde und immer
wenn sie merkte, dass es gefährlich zu zucken begann, trieb sie ihren
Finger wieder tief in seinen schlüpfrigen Darm, was jedes Mal eine
Ejakulation verhinderte, aber Frank fast zur Raserei brachte.
Als er nur noch ein vor grenzenloser Lust jammerndes Häuflein Elend war
und kurz davor stand, den Verstand zu verlieren, zeigte Christine Herzog
Erbarmen mit ihrem jungen Opfer und lies von ihm ab. Sie erhob sich
überlegen lächelnd aus ihrer knienden Position und setzte sich elegant auf
die Schreibtischkante, direkt hinter sich. Sie wusste, dass Frank ihr jetzt
hoffnungslos verfallen war und wollte nun selbst wieder die Gipfel der
körperlichen Lust erklimmen. "Hat dir meine kleine Sonderbehandlung
gefallen?", fragte sie und massierte sich schon wieder aufreizend die
glänzenden Brüste. Frank ging nun seinerseits vor seiner Chefin in die
Knie und gestand: "Sie sind meine Göttin, Frau Herzog, verlangen sie von
mir was sie wollen - ich werde alles für sie tun!" "Das ist gut so, mein
kleiner Sklave!" erwiderte sie zufrieden. "Dann zeig mir gleich mal, ob du
auch als Fotzenlecker zu gebrauchen bist!" Sie hob ihre langen, schwarz
bestrumpften Beine an und legte sie Frank auf die Schultern, der direkt
vor dem großen Schreibtisch kniete. Ihr ausladender Hintern rutschte
wieder ein Stück nach vorn, so dass ihr rasiertes feuchtes Loch, nur
wenige Zentimeter vor seinem Gesicht, ihn magisch anzuziehen schien. "Zeig
deiner Göttin, wie sehr du sie begehrst!" hauchte sie und öffnete mit
Zeige- und Ringfinger einer Hand die dunkelrot geschwollen Schamlippen und
umspielte mit dem langen Nagel des Mittelfingers die glänzende Lustperle.
Frank beobachtete andächtig, wie sich in den malerischen Falten ihrer
lockenden Möse erst kleine Tautropfen ihrer wieder aufflammenden Geilheit
sammelten, die sich recht bald in kleinen Rinnsalen vereinten und einen
betörenden Duft in seine Nase steigen ließen. "Koste von meinem Nektar!"
forderte seine Chefin ihn ungeduldig auf und drückte seinen Kopf mit der
anderen Hand fest gegen ihr auslaufendes Loch. Franks Gesicht tauchte tief
in das nässende Fotzenfleisch ein und mit seiner Zunge schmeckte er das
würzige Aroma ihres heißen Mösensaftes. "Ja !!!!!!!!! Leck mir die Fotze
aus, du kleines geiles Miststück!" stöhnte Frau Herzog und legte sich
flach auf den Tisch, wobei eine Hand weiter die schleimende Spalte
spreizte und die andere ihre dunkelbraunen steinharten Nippel mit den
langen Fingernägeln verwöhnte. Ihre Füße hatte sie hinter seinem Nacken
übereinander gelegt und drückte nun mit den Hacken seinen Kopf gegen ihren
Unterleib. Frank leckte und saugte grunzend an den geschwollenen
Schamlippen seiner Chefin mit solcher Hingabe, das diese sich auf dem
Schreibtisch ekstatisch hin und her wand und die brodelnde Grotte seine
suchenden Zunge buchstäblich einzusaugen schien. "Leck mir auch mein
geiles Arschloch aus!" presste sie zwischen lautem Stöhnen hervor und zog
ihre Beine nun so weit es ging an, so dass ihr prachtvoller Hintern, von
ihren Händen weit aufgerissen, sich lockend hervor schob. Frank leckte
noch einmal langsam von oben nach unten durch die siffende Spalte und fuhr
dann mit seiner Zungenspitze weiter über den schmalen Damm bis zu ihrem
bereitwillig präsentierten Arschloch. Genau wie sie ihm kurz zuvor die
zarte Rosette verwöhnt hatte, wollte er auch ihr einen ebensolchen Genuss
bereiten und begann, das faltige Loch mit seiner flinken Zunge zu
erforschen. "Ohhhhhhh jaaaaa - das tut so gut!" gurrte Frau Herzog
zufrieden und macht sich daran, mit beiden Händen ihre zuckende Möse zu
bearbeiten. Der warme Fotzenschleim quoll ihr stoßweise aus der gierigen
Möse, als sie sich gleich zwei Finger auf einmal in den Lustkanal steckte
und sich durch einen gekonnten Fingerfick selbst bis kurz vor einen
erneuten Höhepunkt brachte. Zäh lief die duftende Brühe über ihren Damm
und wurde von Franks Zunge, welche sie mittlerweile tief in den hungrigen
Anus fickte, dankbar aufgeschleckt. "Saug mir wieder den Kitzler - es ist
gleich soweit!" heulte sie unter wilden Zuckungen laut auf und steckte
sich, als Frank seine Zunge aus ihrem geweiteten Darm zog, sogleich selbst
einen Finger so weit es ging in den liebkosten Hintereingang. Seine Chefin
war in ihrer rasenden Wollust völlig aufgelöst, als Frank sich, wie
gefordert, auf die dick hervorgetretene Lustkugel stürzte und diese
schmatzend zwischen seinen Lippen einsaugte. "JAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!! Das
ist es!!!!!!!!! Ich komme!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!", entfuhr es Frau Herzog
mit tierischem Gekreische und ihr Körper bäumte sich zu einem wilden,
ungezügelten Orgasmus auf, der sie mit unmenschlicher Wucht packte und
erst nach endlosen Minuten purer Ekstase wieder aus seiner Umklammerung
entließ.
Frank war aufgrund dieser Vorstellung purer weiblicher Wollust wie
hypnotisiert und hatte Mühe damit, soviel ihres köstlichen herben
Mösenbreies in sich aufzunehmen, wie er nur konnte. Als Frau Herzog wieder
etwas bei Sinnen war, richtete sie sich auf und sah, wie er immer noch
voller Hingabe ihren Sud in sich Einsog und das sein unschuldiges
jugendliches Gesicht völlig von ihrer Lustsoße beschmiert war. "Steh auf,
mein Süßer!" sagte sie glücklich lächelnd und zog ihn zu sich hoch. "Noch
kein Mann hat das geschafft, was du gerade gemacht hast und mich zu solch
einem umwerfenden Orgasmus geleckt! Du hast hier wirklich noch eine große
Karriere vor dir!" Mit diesen Worten säuberten ihre langen schönen Finger
sein Gesicht und seinen Hals grob von den Spuren ihres Höhepunktes und
gönnerhaft lies sie sich den aufgenommenen Schleim von den glänzenden
Fingern lecken. "Gib mir deine Zunge!" hauchte sie zärtlich als Frank das
kostbare Nass gerade hinunterschlucken wollte und schob ihm fordernd ihr
langes Leckorgan in den geöffneten Mund. Ihre Zungen umschlungen sich in
wilder Umklammerung und ließen erst nach langen Minuten wieder voneinander
ab.
"Ich will jetzt, dass du deinen harten Hengstschwanz in meine nasse Möse
steckst und mich richtig durchfickst!" sagte sie plötzlich wieder mit
ernster Miene und griff mit einer Hand nach Franks Rohr, das kerzengerade
von seinem Körper abstand. Fest umschlossen ihre beringten Finger seinen
adrigen Schaft und führten die pulsierende Eichel direkt vor den Eingang
zu ihrer Lustgrotte. Mit einer Hand stützte Frau Herzog sich auf dem
Schreibtisch ab und die andere ließ nun den knochenharten Riemen ihres
jungen Beschälers in ihr hungriges Loch gleiten. "Ohhhhhhh - Mein Gott
bist du groß!!!!" stöhnte sie laut auf, als er vollends in ihr steckte.
"Besorg es mir jetzt wie ein richtiger Mann - dafür bist du hier und genau
dass ist es, was ich von dir will!" feuerte sie Frank mit durchbohrendem
Blick an und ihre Hand krallte sich in seine Arschbacke, um seinen anfangs
etwas ungelenken Fickbewegungen einen intensiveren Rhythmus zu geben. Mit
immer heftigeren Stößen hämmerte er seinen Kolben in die überschäumende,
bei jedem erneuten Eindringen laut schmatzende Möse seiner Chefin und wie
in Trance griff er mit beiden Händen nach ihren fleischigen Brüsten, die
sie ihm lockend entgegenstreckte. "Ja, so ist es gut - fick mich richtig
durch und leck mir meine dicken Titten!" grunzte Christine Herzog
wollüstig und Frank saugte ihre dicken harten Nippel tief in seinen Mund
ein. Der schleimige Fotzenbrei lief in breiten Bächen aus dem gevögelten
Loch und sammelte sich an ihrem bräunlichen Arschloch. Bei jedem erneuten
Fickstoß klatschten Franks mittlerweile wieder prall gefüllte Eier laut
gegen den schleim beschmierten Hintern seiner Chefin und verteilten die
sämige Soße so über ihren gesamten Prachtarsch. Ihrer beider
Geschlechtsteile waren in wilden zuckenden Bewegungen ineinander
verschlungen und hätten sich ihre scharfen Nägel nicht immer wieder tief
in seinen strammen Hintern gebohrt, wäre Franks hämmernder Schwanz
unweigerlich tief in der brodelnden Möse seiner Chefin explodiert. Es war
der erste Fick seines Lebens und er wollte diesen so lange er konnte
auskosten. Dies war natürlich auch im Sinne seiner erfahrenen Lehrerin,
die ebenso bereits wieder kurz vor einem erneuten Höhepunkt stand und
ihren wie besessen zustoßenden Lehrling weiter anfeuerte: "Dein harter
Fickprügel macht mich völlig fertig, du geiler Hengst! Gib es deiner
Chefin richtig - aber wehe dir, du spritzt ab bevor ich es dir erlaube!!"
Sie hatte ihre langen Beine hinter seinem Hintern gekreuzt und drückte ihm
die spitzen Hacken ihrer Lackschuhe in das weiche Pofleisch. Es war nur
noch eine Frage von wenigen Stößen, dann würde ihre fast wund gestoßene
Fotze erneut den Gipfel der Lust erreichen, als sie sich plötzlich wieder
gerade aufsetzte und Franks fickender Riemen laut schlürfend aus ihrer
geschundenen Lustgrotte glitt. Sofort packte sie mit beiden Händen nach
dem bockenden Rohr und den Mösenschleim beschmierten Hoden und drückte sie
hart aber überaus gefühlvoll, so dass wieder eine große Portion Vorschmiere
über ihre wunderschönen Finger lief, die sie sofort sauber lutschte.
"Eine letzte Prüfung musst du noch meistern, erst dann darfst du mir deine
ganze Sahne schenken!" sagte sie heiser und küsste ihn leidenschaftlich auf
die bebenden Lippen. Frank konnte nicht antworten, zu sehr war er
fasziniert von dieser göttlichen Frau, die ihm alles abverlangte und für
die er buchstäblich durch die Hölle gehen würde. "Fick mich in meinen
engen Arsch, du geiler Deckhengst! Ich will deinen harten Schwanz tief in
meiner heißen Arschfotze spüren!!!" brüllte seine Chefin ihn nun förmlich
an, riss ihre Beine in die Höhe und legte die Füße auf Franks Schultern
ab. Sie lag nun flach auf dem Rücken und ihre Hände rissen ihre
fleischigen Arschbacken auseinander, so dass Franks purpurrote Eichel
direkt vor dem lockenden Eingang zu ihrem engen Enddarm lauerte. "Gib ihn
mir jetzt - und streng dich gefälligst an - diese Ehre haben noch nicht
viele Schwänze erhalten!" stöhnte sie fiebrig auf und blickte ihm tief in
die Augen. Frank schob seinen Unterkörper etwas nach vorn und zu seiner
Überraschung tauchte seine dicke, glänzende Schwanzspitze fast ohne
Widerstand sofort in den hinteren Lustkanal seiner triebhaften Chefin ein.
Frau Herzog jaulte laut auf, als die pralle Eichel ihren Schließmuskel
passierte, aber sofort entspannte sie gekonnt die gedehnte Muskulatur und
genoss das weitere Eindringen in ihr Rektum Zentimeter für Zentimeter. Als
der übergroße Riemen in voller Länge in ihren heißen Arsch eingedrungen
war, richtete sie sich wieder etwas auf und begann, mit einer Hand ihre
abschleimende Fotze zu bearbeiten. "Zieh ihn langsam wieder raus und dann
komm wieder rein - ich will sehen wie geil du meinen Prachtarsch fickst!"
röhrte sie unter tiefen Seufzern der Wollust und fickte sich mit 2 Fingern
auf einmal selbst in die wabernde Möse. Ihr Hintern war höllisch eng und
heiß aber Frank bohrte seinen stocksteifen Fickprügel wie einen
Dampfhammer unablässig in das wundervollste Loch, das er sich vorstellen
konnte. Mit den Händen griff er unter ihre Arme und hielt sie so fest,
dass sie sich nicht mehr abstützen musste, um seinen Hammer aus ihrem
Hinterteil rein- und rausfahren zu sehen. Stattdessen hatte sie nun wieder
eine Hand frei, mit der sie sofort nach seinem zum Bersten gefüllten
Hodensack griff und fest zupackte. Zärtlich umspielten ihre Finger die
prallen Eier und wogen den strammen Sack, nur wenn sie merkte, dass der
arschfickende Pimmel kurz vor der Ejakulation war, krallte sie ihre langen
Nägel hart in die faltige Haut seines Samenbeutels und konnte durch diesen
sanften Schmerz seinen Orgasmus noch etwas hinauszögern. Ihre langen
Finger fickten wild die überschäumende Fotze und mit dem Daumennagel
reizte sie unablässig ihren wunden Kitzler bis zur völligen Ekstase.
"OOOhhhhhhhhhhhhh - Jaaaaaaaaaaa!!!! Du machst mich richtig fertig - Ich
spüre dich so tief wie ich noch keinen Schwanz vorher gespürt habe! Hör
jetzt bloß nicht auf! Gleich - Gleich -
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Christine Herzog verlor nun vollends die Kontrolle über alles was sie tat
oder dachte und war nur noch ein zuckendes, brunftiges Stück Fleisch, das
gefickt werden wollte wie es noch nie gefickt worden war. Alles Damenhafte
war ihr längst abhanden gekommen und sie war nur noch von dem Gedanken
beseelt, grenzenlose Lust zu empfangen und ihrem gelehrigen Schüler zu
bereiten. Der erneute Orgasmus lies ihren perfekten Körper, wie von
hungrigen Sexdämonen besessen, wild aufbäumen und unter ekstatischen
Zuckungen erschöpft zusammenbrechen, begleitet von tierischen Lustschreien
aus tiefster Brust, die kaum noch menschlich klangen. Frank rammte ihr mit
einem letzten, mächtigen Stoss seinen Fickprügel bis zum Anschlag in den
zuckenden Arsch und genoss dann die heftigen Kontraktionen ihrer
Analmuskulatur bei ihrem übermenschlichen Orgasmus, welche seinen
zuckenden Schwanz rhythmisch zu massieren schienen.
Christine Herzog kam erst langsam wieder in die Realität zurück und spürte
sogleich, dass das immer noch tief in ihrem Hintern steckende Glied ihres
Auszubildenden heftig zu zucken begann und eine Ejakulation nun auch von
einer erfahrenen Frau wie sie es war, nicht weiter hinausgezögert werden
konnte. Abermals packte sie nach den schweren Hoden und hielt diese mit
einer Hand fest umklammert. "Zieh ihn jetzt raus - ich will sehen, wie
schön du spritzen kannst!" hauchte sie und küsste Frank kurz lüstern
züngelnd auf den Mund. Mit einem saftigen Schmatzen entglitt der pochende
Lustknochen ihrem schleimigen Poloch und mit einem sanften Schupps stieß
sie den vor Erregung zitternden Frank nun ein Stück nach hinten, um selbst
elegant von der Schreibtischkante zu rutschen und sich kniend direkt vor
dem abschussbereiten Rohr zu postieren. Zärtlich spielten ihre schlanken
Finger mit seinen übervollen Saftklötzen und suchend tastete sich ihr
Mittelfinger wieder bis zu Franks glitschigem Poloch vor. Langsam und
unendlich gefühlvoll glitt ihr langer Fingernagel durch die schmale
Öffnung und tief hinein in seinen aufnahmebereiten Hintern. Frank stand
leicht breitbeinig vor seiner knienden Chefin und entspannte seine
Arschmuskulatur mittlerweile bereitwillig, so dass diese mit ihrem
fordernden Finger tief in ihn eindringen konnte und schließlich mit der
Spitze des langen Nagels zielsicher die bis zum platzen gefüllte Prostata
erreichte. Diese zusätzliche Stimulation in seinem Rektum quittierte er
mit einem tiefen inbrünstigen Stöhnen und fast glaubte er vor Geilheit die
Besinnung zu verlieren. "Ja, so ist es gut, mein Junge!" dröhnte die Stimme
seiner Chefin in seinen Ohren, "Lass dich jetzt gehen und gib mir deinen
heißen Saft! Spritz mir alles in meinen Mund! Ich will dich völlig lehr
saugen - bis auf den letzten Tropfen!" Gierig schnappte Frau Herzog mit
ihren perfekt geschwungenen Lippen nach der zuckenden dunkelblauen Eichel
und knabberte zärtlich mit den Zähnen darüber, bis die ganze Schwanzspitze
in ihrem lüsternen Mund steckte und die flinke Zunge unablässig über die
Unterseite schleckte. Ihre andere Hand, die bis eben noch abwechselnd über
ihre dicken Brüste und die wund gefickte Möse gestreichelt hatte, packte
nun Franks steinhartes Rohr und wichste es mit festem Griff auf und ab.
Der Blick in ihre vor Wollust flackernden Augen und die dreifache
Stimulation sämtlicher Geschlechtsteile waren nun auch für Frank zuviel
und er spürte, wie sich die Samenfäden aus den umspielten Klöten und der
überreizten Prostata lösten und in seinen wild zuckenden Schwanz schossen.
"Ich komme - Ich komme jetzt - Frau Herzog!" ächzte er hervor und mit einem
zufriedenen Lächeln antwortete sie nur knapp: "Ja - mein Junge - gib mir,
was mir gehört!" und schon stülpte sie ihren wundervollen Mund wieder über
die zuckende Eichel. Der erste Schwall heißen klebrigen Spermas schoss mit
solch einer Heftigkeit durch Franks bockenden Pimmel, das es ihm fast
schon weh tat und der herbe Geschmack der milchigen Flüssigkeit, die sich
in Frau Herzogs Mund ergoss, ließ diese befriedigt grunzend und gierig
schluckend erbeben. Doch so heftig sie auch schluckte, immer neue Schübe
des jugendlichen Lebenssaftes sprudelten aus der pumpenden Schwanzspitze
und füllten ihren Mund in Sekundenschnelle voll, so dass die Spermasoße in
großen Mengen aus ihren Mundwinkeln lief, über ihren Hals rann und auf die
prachtvollen Titten tropfte. Mit ihren geschickten Händen und ihrer
lockenden Zunge holte seine Chefin immer mehr des von ihr so Heißbegehrten
Saftes aus Franks Innerstem und ließ erst von ihm ab, als das Zucken in
seinen Geschlechtsteilen schon eine Weile vorüber war und sie sicher sein
konnte, dass sich kein Tropfen des köstlichen Nektars mehr in ihnen
befinden würde.
Mit weichen Knien taumelte er einen Schritt zurück, als Frau Herzog ihren
besamten Mund und ihre besudelten Hände von ihm lies und ihn mit sanfter
Gewalt in den hinter ihm stehenden Chefsessel schubste. Mit
Samenverschmiertem Gesicht stand sie nun seitlich vor ihm und leckte sich
genussvoll das breiige Sperma aus den Mundwinkeln und von den ölig
glänzenden Brüsten. "Deine junge Ficksahne ist für mich das schönste was
es gibt, mein Liebling, "schnurrte sie nun sanft, "ich hoffe, davon wirst
du mir von heute an jeden Tag solch eine gewaltige Portion servieren!"
Dabei beugte sie sich zu ihm hinunter und begann mit ihrer langen Zunge
Franks mittlerweile nur noch halbsteifes Glied und seine Leergepumpten
Eier von den klebrigen Spermaresten intensiv zu säubern. "Ich liebe sie,
Frau Herzog, und ich tue alles für sie, was immer sie von mir verlangen!"
schwor Frank seiner angebeteten Göttin in endloser Dankbarkeit. "Ich weiß,
mein Junge, ich weiß!" lächelte diese wissend und ließ sich von ihrem
jungen Untergebenen die Safttriefenden Titten und Finger sauber lutschen.
"Ich glaube, ich werde noch viel Freude an dir haben!" lächelte sie
befriedigt und küsste ihn lange und leidenschaftlich auf den von seinem
eigenen Samen beschmierten Mund.
ENDE
-
Die Friseurin
-=Die Friseurin=-
AutorIn: molicker
eMail: Der Autor kann nur via Web-Formular auf sevac.com kontaktiert werden!
Datum: 2.2004
Quelle: Autor
---------------------------------------------------- - --- -
Die Friseurin
Es war ein warmer Spätsommertag im August, als Sven sich auf den Weg zu
seinem Stammfriseursalon in der Nähe der Wohnung seiner Eltern machte. Er
war erst vor kurzem 16 Jahre alt geworden und Schüler der 10. Klasse der
Realschule. Seit seiner Kindheit ging er mindestens ein Mal pro Monat zum
Friseur, da seine strenge Mutter großen Wert auf ein gepflegtes Aussehen
ihres einzigen Sohnes legte. Doch als er den Friseursalon fast erreicht
hatte, sah er, dass das alte Namensschild "Salon Brigitte" durch ein
neues, wesentlich moderneres, mit der Aufschrift "Beas Beauty and Nail
Salon" ersetzt worden war. Die Jalousien des Geschäftes waren
heruntergelassen und alles sah ziemlich verlassen aus. Sven ging an die
Eingangstür und las auf einem handgeschriebenen Zettel den Hinweis "Wegen
Umbau geschlossen - Wiedereröffnung am 28.August". Er wollte gerade wieder
auf dem Absatz kehrt machen, als die Tür plötzlich von innen geöffnet wurde
und eine ihm unbekannte rothaarige Frau von ca. 35 Jahren vor ihm stand.
Die Frau war ziemlich groß, mindestens so groß wie er selbst, was
wahrscheinlich an den hochhackigen Stiefeln lag, die sie trug. Sie hatte
einen weißen Friseurkittel übergeworfen, der vorn offen war und trug
darunter einen hellblauen knallengen Jeansrock mit breitem Gürtel und ein
ebenso enges, tiefschwarzes Top, welches ihre voluminöse Oberweite mehr
betonte als verhüllte.
"Oh, hallo - wolltest du zu uns?" fragte sie den etwas erschrocken
blickenden Sven lächelnd. "Äh - ja - ich - ich wollte zum Haare schneiden
kommen", stotterte er unsicher und blickte verschämt zu Boden. "Na ja,
eigentlich eröffnen wir erst am kommenden Montag wieder, aber komm ruhig
mal rein. Mal sehen, was ich für dich tun kann!" sagte die Frau freundlich
und hielt ihm die Tür auf, damit er eintreten konnte. Im Inneren des
Friseursalons herrschte ein ziemliches Chaos. Überall standen halb
ausgepackte Kartons mit allerlei Friseurutensilien herum und halb
zusammenbaute Regale standen und lagen wild verteilt im Raum. "Wie du
siehst, ist hier noch nicht alles so wie es sein sollte", erklärte die
Frau ihm entschuldigend ," aber meine Angestellten fangen erst morgen an
und ich habe schon mal versucht, allein ein paar Sachen zu sortieren und
aufzubauen. Ich bin übrigens die Bea, Bea Neumann", sagte sie und reichte
Sven die Hand. "Weil der Vorbesitzer plötzlich schwer erkrankt ist, habe
ich den Laden hier übernommen und versuche gerade, ihn ein bisschen auf
Vordermann zu bringen." Sven starrte wie gebannt auf ihre ausgestreckte
Hand, welche die Friseurin ihm entgegenstreckte. An jedem ihrer grazilen,
schlanken Finger trug sie ein bis zwei dicke silberne Ringe und die fast
schon obszön langen, leicht gebogenen Fingernägel waren ebenso silbern
glänzend lackiert. Fast ehrfürchtig ergriff Sven leicht zitternd ihre
makellose Hand und glaubte zu spüren, wie sie mit ihren langen Nägeln
leicht die Innenseite seines Unterarmes kraulte. In seiner Jeanshose wurde
es langsam ziemlich eng für Svens anschwellendes Glied, das auf derlei
Reize sofort reagierte und sich bereits deutlich unter dem Stoff
abzeichnete. "Möchtest du mir nicht ein bisschen beim aufräumen helfen,
dann hab ich hinterher sicher auch noch Zeit um dir die Haare zu
schneiden!" schlug Bea ihm unumwunden vor und entzog ihre Hand wieder aus
seinem zittrigen Griff. "Ja klar - dass wäre toll, Frau Neumann!"
antwortete Sven wie aus der Pistole geschossen. "Na fein - verrätst du mir
auch wie du heißt?" fragte sie ihn und griff sich dabei mit den Händen in
das lange feuerrote Haar. "Sven, Sven Müller", gab er artig zur Antwort.
"Gut Sven Müller", sagte sie nun in etwas schärferem Ton, "dann wollen wir
mal sehen, wie geschickt du mit deinen Händen bist! Am besten baust du die
Regale zusammen und hängst sie an die Wände, damit ich die Kartons darin
einräumen kann. Meinst du, wir kriegen das hin?" "Bestimmt, Frau Neumann!"
nickte Sven eifrig, mit so was kenne ich mich aus!" Und er hatte nicht
zuviel versprochen, im Nu hatte er die Regale zusammengebaut und an die
Wände gedübelt, während Frau Neumann eines nach dem anderen mit den
Inhalten der zahlreichen Kartons befüllte. So waren sie nach ca. einer
Stunde fertig und als Sven die letzte Schraube festzog, spürte er
plötzlich ihre Hand auf seiner Schulter und sie sagte anerkennend: "Das
hast du aber wirklich toll gemacht - solch einen geschickten Handwerker
wie dich muss ich mir aber unbedingt warm halten!" Dabei klopfte sie ihm
auf die Schulter und nahm ihm mit der anderen Hand den Schraubenzieher aus
der Hand. "Jetzt hast du aber genug gearbeitet, mein Junge. Komm und setz
dich schon mal in den Frisiersessel, ich habe uns einen Kaffee gekocht -
du trinkst doch Kaffee - oder?" "Ja, manchmal schon", antwortete Sven und
setzte sich in den ihm angebotenen Sessel. Vor ihm an der Wand war ein
großer Spiegel angebracht, wie das bei Friseuren halt üblich ist, so dass
er sehen konnte wie Frau Neumann mit einem Tablett und zwei Kaffeetassen
darauf aus der Küche kam und auf ihn zusteuerte. Ihr Gang und ihre ganze
Körperhaltung waren dabei dermaßen elegant und erhaben, dass sich in Svens
Hose sofort wieder jemand bemerkbar machte. Sie stellte das Tablett mit den
2 Kaffees auf die schmale Ablage unterhalb des Spiegels, doch für das große
Tablett war diese wohl zu schmal geraten und als sie das Tablett los lies,
kippte es nach vorn und die beiden heißen Kaffees direkt auf Svens
Jeanshose. Dieser sprang vor Schreck sofort auf, doch es war bereits zu
spät, auf beiden Beinen der Hose prangte ein riesiger brauner Fleck. "Oh
nein, ich ungeschickte Träumerin!" schalt sich Frau Neumann selbst, "nun
sieh dir mal deine schöne Hose an. Was machen wir denn jetzt?" Sven wusste
nicht was er sagen sollte, aber er wusste, dass er die Hose so schnell wie
möglich ausziehen musste, denn der frische Kaffee lief doch mittlerweile
ziemlich heiß an seinen Beinen hinunter. "Zieh die Hose schnell aus, sonst
verbrühst du dich noch!" forderte Bea ihn auf und Sven tat dies auch
sofort. Sie nahm ihm die nasse Hose ab und reichte ihm stattdessen ein
Handtuch: "Damit kannst du dich erstmal abtrocknen", sagte sie, "ich
stecke deine Hose erstmal in die Waschmaschine, dann kannst du sie nachher
gleich wieder anziehen." Sven trug nur noch seine Boxershorts und ein
T-Shirt, während er sich mit dem Handtuch den heißen Kaffee von den
Schenkeln wischte. Aufgrund der ganzen Hektik war sein bestes Stück wieder
in seinen Normalzustand geschrumpft und so war ihm in diesem Aufzug nicht
allzu unwohl. "Setz dich doch wieder", flötete die Friseurin als sie
wieder aus dem hinteren Teil des Salons in den Kundenbereich kam, "nach
dieser Aufregung hast du dir erstmal eine Entspannung verdient. Du
bekommst jetzt von mir eine ausgiebige Kopfmassage, dass ist eine meiner
Spezialitäten! Ich habe einige Stammkunden, die kommen nur deshalb immer
wieder zu mir." Sie nahm das fahrbare Waschbecken und stellte es hinter
den Stuhl, auf dem Sven nun wieder Platz genommen hatte. "Leg deinen Kopf
etwas zurück, ich muss erst deine Haare waschen und danach werd ich dich
schön massieren!" sagte sie sanft und Sven tat in gespannter Erwartung,
was sie wollte. Er machte es sich auf dem Friseurstuhl so bequem es ging
und sie legte ihm einen Frisierumhang um. Langsam ließ sie lauwarmes
Wasser über seinen Kopf fließen und wusch ihm die Haare ausgiebig mit
einem wohlriechenden Shampoo. Allein ihre Berührungen beim Waschen seiner
Haare ließen Sven fast dahin schmelzen und genießerisch schloss er die
Augen. "Ja", sagte sie zufrieden, "entspanne dich und lass dich ein
bisschen verwöhnen!" Dabei wusch sie ihm mit der Handbrause das Shampoo
wieder aus den Haaren und trocknete diese anschließend leicht mit einem
Handtuch. Danach packte sie Svens Kopf fest mit den gespreizten Fingern
beider Hände und begann, ihm ausgiebig und überaus gefühlvoll mit
kräftigem Druck ihrer geschickten Fingerkuppen die Kopfhaut zu massieren.
Sven hatte noch immer die Augen geschlossen und genoss jeden ihrer
erfahrenen Handgriffe in vollen Zügen. Nur einmal, als sie, scheinbar
versehentlich, mit den langen Fingernägeln über seine Kopfhaut kratzte,
zuckte er leicht zusammen, was Bea Neumann natürlich bemerkte und
entschuldigend fragte: " Oh, das tut mir leid! Hab ich dir etwa wehgetan?"
"Nein - Nein, Frau Neumann! Das fühlt sich ganz toll an!" antwortete Sven
wahrheitsgemäß und bemerkte, wie sich in seiner Shorts wieder etwas zu
regen begann. "Da bin ich aber froh", hörte er sie mit samtweicher Stimme
sagen, "eigentlich sind meine Nägel auch viel zu lang für so etwas, aber
ich trage sie so am liebsten und außerdem sind sie die beste Werbung für
meine Maniküreecke, die ich hier noch einrichten will." Gebannt lauschte
Sven ihren warmen Worten und langsam wurde aus der leichten Erektion in
seiner Unterhose ein knallharter Ständer, der den weiten Frisierumhang
bereits deutlich nach oben ausbeulte. "Gefallen dir etwa meine langen
Fingernägel auch so sehr?" fragte Bea ihn unverblümt als sie die sichtbare
Beule unter dem Umhang bemerkte. "Sie haben die schönsten Hände, die ich je
gesehen habe, Frau Neumann!" antwortete Sven Unverholen und schlug vor
Schreck die Augen auf, als ihm klar wurde, dass er der ihm doch eigentlich
wildfremden Frau soeben ein ziemlich forsches Kompliment gemacht hatte.
Sofort wurde er puterrot doch als er im Spiegel sah, wie liebevoll die
Friseurin ihn anblickte und diese plötzlich mit einem Ruck den Umhang von
seinen Hüften zog, wusste er gar nicht mehr, wie er reagieren sollte. Sein
vollständig erigierter Penis stand nun kerzengerade durch den Griffschlitz
der Boxershorts im Freien und Sven war unfähig, etwas zu sagen oder zu
handeln. "Na, da ist ja noch jemand, der massiert werden möchte!"
durchbrach Bea mit erhobener Stimme die atemlose Stille und ließ wie
selbstverständlich ihren Friseurkittel zu Boden gleiten.
Im Spiegel konnte Sven genau beobachten, wie Bea Neumann den Gürtel ihres
Jeansrockes öffnete und diesen über ihre ausladenden Hüften streifte.
Darunter trug sie einen weißen, mit feinen Rüschen verzierten Stringtanga,
der sich hell von ihrer sonnengebräunten Haut abhob. "Du hast doch nichts
dagegen, dass ich es mir auch ein bisschen bequemer mache?" fragte sie
scheinheilig und ohne eine Antwort ihres völlig perplex in den Spiegel
stierenden Kunden abzuwarten, schälte sie nacheinander ihre perfekt
geformten, kindskopfgroßen Brüste aus dem viel zu engen Oberteil. Sven
glaubte zu träumen als sie begann, mit ihren eleganten Händen zärtlich
ihre übergroßen Euter zu streicheln und als sie mit den langen Nägeln die
zunehmend größer und härter werdenden Warzen reizte, erkannte er, dass sie
durch jeden steil abstehenden Nippel einen im Durchmesser ca. 2 cm großen
Piercingring trug. So etwas hatte er noch niemals gesehen und überhaupt
war es für ihn das erste Mal, das sich eine Frau vor ihm entblößte. Wie
oft hatte er sich solch eine Situation in seinen feuchten Träumen
vorgestellt und nun, als diese Fantasien wahr zu werden schienen, brachte
er vor Aufregung kein Wort über die bebenden Lippen. Bea fing leise an zu
stöhnen, als die Nagelmassage ihrer Brustwarzen Wirkung zeigte und diese
rapide an Umfang und Länge zunahmen. "Ich mache das so gerne!" seufzte sie
gedankenverloren und fügte mit einem fordernden Unterton hinzu, "aber am
schönsten ist es, wenn eine geschickte Zunge an meinen Nippeln leckt!"
Dabei fasste sie mit einer Hand unter die linke Brust und hob diese so
weit an, dass sie problemlos mit ihrer langen Zunge den geschwollenen
Nippel erreichte und schließlich die ganze Brustwarze in ihren dunkelrot
geschminkten Mund einsaugte. "Würdest du auch mal gern an solch dicken
Titten saugen?" fragte sie Sven plötzlich ohne weitere Umschweife direkt
und dieser konnte nur kurz nicken, da schwang Bea sich auch schon auf
seine Oberschenkel und hielt ihm ihre gewaltigen Euter mit beiden Händen
auffordernd direkt ins Gesicht. Dankbar lutschte und saugte Sven an dem
ihm dargebotenen reifen Tittenfleisch und den kunstvoll gepiercten Warzen
dieser Superfrau und er spürte, wie der feuchte Stoff ihres Tangas erst
leicht und dann immer fester gegen die Unterseite seines steinharten
Gliedes stieß. Sven entließ die hart gelutschten Zitzen aus seinem Mund
und sah nach unten, wo Bea Neumann gerade ihre rechte Hand zielsicher
zwischen ihre Beine gleiten lies. Während zwei Finger den Zwickel des
Strings beiseite schoben und zwei weitere sofort tief in die feuchte Möse
eindrangen, kraulte der lang gebogene Daumennagel unablässig über ihren
weit hervorgetretenen Kitzler. Mit stockender Stimme forderte sie Sven
heiser auf: "Knete mir die Titten und leck meine Nippel - ich werde gleich
meinen heißen Mösensaft auf deinen hübschen Schwanz spritzen!" Diesen
drückte sie mit ihrer freien Hand fest gegen seinen Bauch und rieb ihre
langen, schleimigen Schamlippen gefühlvoll über die empfindliche
Unterseite seines stocksteifen Rohres. Immer heftiger und ungestümer
fickten ihre dick beringten Finger minutenlang in ihre zuckende Grotte und
unter erlösendem Stöhnen quoll schließlich ein nicht Enden wollender
Schwall milchig weißen Fotzensaftes in heftigen Schüben aus der
glattrasierten Möse. Heiß ergoss sich der duftende Brei ihrer reifen Lust
auf Svens jungfräulichem Penis und lief daran hinunter bis auf die zum
platzen gefüllten Hoden des Jungen. "OOOOOOOhhhhhhhhh - Jaaaaaaaaaa!! Ich
spritze meinen Saft so gern auf junge harte Schwänze!!!", stöhnte sie laut
und als der Quell langsam versiegte nahm sie Svens Gesicht in beide Hände
und schob ihm ihre lange, fordernde Zunge weit in den Mund. Nach einem
innigen und feuchten Kuss, der Sven fast den Atem nahm, löste sie ihre
Lippen von seinen und fragte ihn geheimnisvoll lächelnd: "Hat dir schon
mal ein Mädchen den Schwanz gewichst?" "Nein, noch nie - Frau Neumann!"
antwortete Sven wahrheitsgemäß. "Möchtest du, dass ich es tue?" ihre
Stimme wurde bestimmter. Sven hatte vor Aufregung einen dicken Kloß in der
Kehle und konnte nur kräftig nicken. Sein dick geschwollener Penis war fast
gänzlich von der warmen Lache, kräftig duftenden Mösenschleims auf seinem
Bauch bedeckt und zuckte bereits verdächtig, als sich ihre langen
Fingernägel durch den zähen Brei hindurch an das harte Fickfleisch
tasteten. "Oh je, ich habe das gute Stück ja richtig voll geschleimt!" tat
sie überrascht und schob soviel des Mösensekretes wie sie konnte mit der
flachen linken Hand in die geöffnete rechte. Während die eine besudelte
Hand nun zärtlich über den steinharten und noch immer schleim
verschmierten Pimmel streichelte, verteilte die andere den aufgesammelten
Fotzensud auf ihren luststrotzenden Titten. Der Anblick ihrer, vom eigenen
Mösenschleim eingeschmierten, feucht glänzenden Superbrüste, und die
gefühlvolle, erfahrene Liebkosung seiner Geschlechtsteile durch ihre
saftgetränkten Luxushände mit den krallenartigen Fingernägeln waren fast
zuviel für Sven. Er spürte deutlich, wie ihm der kochende Saft im
stocksteifen Rohr emporstieg und stieß gepresst hervor: "Ich - Ich glaube
- ich komme gleich!" "Oh nein - das wirst du noch nicht!" erwiderte Bea
energisch und stoppte abrupt die Salbung seines abschussbereiten Gliedes.
Ihre Hände widmeten sich nun wieder der ausgiebigen Massage ihrer prallen
Euter als sie fragte: "Sag - gefallen dir meine großen Brüste?" "Oh ja,
Frau Neumann, sie sind ehrlich die schönste Frau die ich kenne!"
antwortete Sven mit zittriger Stimme. Allein der Anblick dieser
Wahnsinnsfrau, die sich selbst so voller Hingabe den reifen Luxuskörper
verwöhnte, hätte mittlerweile ausgereicht, um sein pochendes Rohr
explodieren zu lassen, aber er wollte ihr gehorchen und konnte den
drohenden Erguss mit Mühe noch einmal unterdrücken. "Ich möchte, das du
deinen harten Schwanz zwischen meine dicken Titten legst und sie richtig
durchfickst!" mit diesen Worten erhob sie sich und kniete sich zwischen
Svens angewinkelte Beine, die vor Aufregung zu zittern begannen. "Ganz
ruhig, mein Kleiner", versuchte sie ihn zu beruhigen, "ich werde es dir
jetzt richtig schön besorgen!" Sie griff nach Svens pulsierendem Riemen
und legte ihn sich direkt in die tiefe Furche zwischen ihren ölig
glänzenden Lustbergen. Dann umfasste sie jeweils mit einer Hand eine Brust
und drückte diese so fest sie konnte gegeneinander, so dass sich das reife,
weiche Tittenfleisch wie ein wärmender Mantel um den jugendlichen
Fickhammer schmiegte. Sven stöhnte vor Erregung laut auf als sie begann,
ihren Oberkörper langsam auf und ab zu bewegen und durch den Druck ihrer
wogenden Brustmuskulatur sein Schwanz nahezu gemolken wurde. Sie spürte
den prächtigen Riemen deutlich zwischen ihren fleischigen Milchtüten
zucken und lockerte den Druck etwas, um ihn noch ein bisschen länger
bearbeiten zu können. "Ist das schön für dich?" fragte sie, aber sie
wusste die Antwort längst, als Sven nur ein tiefes Grunzen entrann. "Ich
mag es auch, wenn so ein hübscher dicker Schwanz meine saftigen Titten
fickt!" haucht sie und ihre Worte machten Sven rasend vor Geilheit.
"Schenkst du mir jetzt deine Ficksahne? Komm bitte und spritz mich voll!!"
schnurrte Bea flehend und blickte ihm erwartungsvoll in die Augen. In Svens
Kopf explodierte ein riesiges Feuerwerk und alles was er noch spürte war,
wie sich sein Unterkörper verkrampfte und ihm der Saft blitzartig durch
die bebenden Lenden in den zuckenden Riemen schoss. Seine purpurne dick
geschwollene Eichel lugte zwischen den zusammengepressten Tittenbergen
hervor und spritzte fontänengleich schier unerschöpfliche Mengen heißen
milchigen Spermas empor, welches Bea strahlförmig gegen den Hals klatschte
und in breiten Bächen über ihre göttlichen Brüste lief. "Jaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!
- Lass alles raus!!!!!!!!!!!!!" feuerte sie ihn noch zusätzlich an, "es
gibt nichts geileres, als so einen jungen Fickprügel abseichen zu sehen!"
Immer neue Wellen des weißen Liebesnektars ergossen sich über ihren
bereits heftig besudelten Busen und mit ihren verschmierten Händen
versuchte sie verzweifelt, den herab rinnenden Samen aufzunehmen und so
keinen Tropfen der köstlichen Soße zu verschwenden. Wieder und wieder
tauchten ihre schlanken Finger in den schleimigen Sud und ließen diesen
dann in langen Fäden über die langen Nägel in ihren lüstern geöffneten
Mund fließen.
Als Sven wieder halbwegs zu sich kam und langsam begriff, was er da gerade
erlebt hatte, sah er, wie sich ihm die, von seinem verspritzten Saft,
glänzenden Prachttitten entgegenstreckten und hörte Bea sagen: "Das hast
du ganz toll gemacht, mein Schatz! Dein heißer Samen schmeckt einfach
köstlich. Koste doch selbst mal!" Ohne Hemmungen saugte sich Sven erneut
an den steinharten, gepiercten Brustwarzen dieser Superfrau fest und
säuberte mit seiner Zunge anschließend gründlich ihre besudelten Euter
während Bea sich stöhnend seinen Saft von ihren triefenden Hände leckte.
"Gib mir deine Zunge!", hauchte sie inbrünstig und sie küssten sich feucht
und leidenschaftlich, wobei der von beiden Mündern aufgenommene Samen hin
und hergetauscht wurde. Sven saß noch immer zurückgelehnt auf dem
Friseursessel und war vor Hingabe und Bewunderung für seine erfahrene
Friseurin fast unfähig, sich zu bewegen. Trotz seiner gewaltigen
Ejakulation, die seine Eier leer gepumpt haben musste, stand sein Penis
immer noch wie eine Eins und war nun nicht nur mit Beas Mösensaft sondern
auch noch mit den schleimigen Resten weißlichen Spermas bedeckt, welches
von der Schwanzspitze bis hinunter zu den entsafteten Hoden eine breiige
Soße bildete. Selig auf das besudelte Glied ihres jugendlichen Besamers
blickend schnurrte Bea: "Das ist es, was ich an euch jungen Schwänzen so
liebe! So schnell seit ihr nicht klein zu kriegen und sofort für die 2.
Runde bereit!" Sie rutschte wieder etwas tiefer an Svens Lenden hinab, bis
der wippende Prügel direkt vor ihrem Gesicht prangte. "Ich werd ihn dir
erstmal schön sauber lecken - und dann wirst du mich mit deinem
Prachtschwanz richtig durchficken!" Für Sven hätte draußen die Welt
untergehen können, nichts und niemand würde ihn davon abhalten können, es
diesem Vollweib so lange und so oft er konnte zu besorgen aber außer einem
gequältem: "Ja bitte - alles was sie wollen!", brachte er nichts weiter
über seine Lippen. Ihre dunkelrot geschminkten, wulstigen Lippen nährten
sich nun immer mehr seinem steifen Rohr und berührten die glänzende Eichel
schließlich mit einer unendlichen Sanftheit, wie sie Sven niemals zu fühlen
geglaubt hätte. Dabei benetzte der den gesamten Schwanz überziehende
Schleimfilm ihre leicht geschürzten Lippen und wurde sogleich gierig
züngelnd aufgeschleckt. Zentimeter für Zentimeter fuhr Beas sinnlicher
Mund, stöhnend den würzigen Lustbrei aufschlürfend, an Svens Fickstab auf
und ab, bis dieser gänzlich von Mösenschleim und Sperma gesäubert war und
nur noch von ihrem Speichel benetzt glänzte. "Steh auf - ich will jetzt,
dass du mich fickst!" befahl sie Sven unmissverständlich und leckte sich
aufreizend den weißen Schleim von den vollen Lippen. Er tat wie ihm
geheißen und sie tauschten quasi die Positionen, so dass Bea nun
zurückgelehnt auf dem Friseursessel saß und Sven zwischen ihren weit
gespreizten Beinen kniete. Erstmalig konnte er jetzt die ganze Schönheit
ihrer rasierten Muschi bewundern, deren saftig glänzenden Schamlippen von
ihren überlangen Fingernägeln demonstrativ auseinander gezogen wurden.
"Genau hier möchte ich dein langes Ding jetzt spüren!" stöhnte sie heiser
und ließ einen Zeigefinger tief in das immer feuchter werdende Loch
gleiten. "Hast du schon mal gefickt?" sie blickte Sven tief in die Augen
und dieser schüttelte verlegen den Kopf. "Das ist gut - ich genieße es um
so mehr, wenn ich die Erste sein darf, die deinen geilen Schwanz zu spüren
bekommt!" Sie umfasste mit einer Hand zärtlich Svens speichelnasses
Fickrohr und führte es sich direkt vor den Eingang zu ihrer Lustgrotte.
Ein unbeschreibliches Gefühl von Wärme und Geborgenheit durchströmte
seinen gesamten Körper, als die Spitze seiner Eichel die dick
geschwollenen Schamlippen teilte und in der feuchtwarmen Traumfotze
verschwand. Sie entließ seinen Schwanz aus ihrem Griff und umfasste
stattdessen mit beiden Händen seine muskulösen Pobacken um ihn so tief in
sich hinein zu drücken. Geil schmatzend verschwand der harte Prügel nach
und nach in dem gierigen Loch während ihre langen Nägel sich tief in Svens
Arschmuskeln krallten. Sven stöhnte laut auf als ihre erfahrene Möse sein
jungfräuliches Glied förmlich verschlang und Bea damit begann, es durch
Heben und Senken ihres Beckens, langsam Raus- und wieder Reingleiten zu
lassen. "Gefällt es dir?" fragte sie stöhnend und Sven nickte wieder nur
heftig. "Sag es mir - sag mir wie geil du auf meine nasse Fotze bist und
wie du es liebst sie zu ficken!!!" herrschte sie ihn nun fast an. Dabei
begann sie wieder, mit zwei Fingern ihren prallen Kitzler zu zwirbeln und
kratzte mit den Nägeln der anderen Hand über Svens unbehaarte Brust. "Ich
- Ich liebe ihre geile Fotze und will sie immer nur ficken! So lange und
so oft sie wollen, Frau Neumann! Mein Schwanz wird immer nur ihnen
gehören!" sprudelte es nun aus Sven heraus und er begann nun selbstständig
immer stärker und schneller in die überlaufende Punze zu stoßen.
Minutenlang fickten sich beide wie 2 triebhafte Tiere immer lauter und
heftiger fast um den Verstand, bis Bea deutlich spürte, das sie wieder
kurz vor einem ihrer sintflutartigen Höhepunkte stand und ihren
jugendlichen Beschäler anwies: "Schnell, zieh ihn raus - Ich will, dass du
mich ausschlürfst!" Mit den Stiefeln stieß sie ihn ziemlich grob von sich,
so dass der pochende Riemen mit einem lauten Schmatzen aus ihrer
brodelnden Möse flutschte. Gleichzeitig ergriff sie aber mit beiden Händen
Svens Kopf und drückte ihn sich direkt zwischen die weit gespreizten Beine.
Sein Gesicht tauchte tief zwischen den schleimig glänzenden Schamlippen ein
und instinktiv schob er seine suchende Zunge so weit er konnte in ihren
überquellenden Schoß. Es kam Bea mit solch einer übermenschlichen Gewalt,
dass sie fast die Besinnung verlor und ihr zuckender Körper sich von
ekstatischen Entladungen geschüttelt, immer heftiger gegen Svens saugenden
und leckenden Mund presste, dass dieser kaum noch in der Lage war, Luft zu
holen. "Trink mich aus, du geile Lecksau!" stieß zu gerade noch zwischen
brunftigem Jaulen hervor und überschwemmte sein knabenhaftes Gesicht mit
unglaublichen Mengen ihrer heißen, hocharomatischen Liebessoße. Doch so
sehr er auch schleckte und trank, ein Großteil des würzigen Fotzennektars
lief ihm über das Gesicht und den Hals, bis zu seiner unbehaarten Brust.
Ein bisher unbekanntes Gefühl voller Stolz und tiefer Befriedigung empfand
Sven plötzlich, den zum ersten Mal hatte er eine Frau zu ihrem Orgasmus
gevögelt und geleckt und dazu noch eine solch erfahrene Superfrau wie es
Bea Neumann ohne Zweifel war. Immer noch leicht zitternd zog Bea das von
ihrem Mösensaft bedeckte Gesicht ihres neuen Muschileckers zu sich hoch
und leckte nun ihrerseits mit ihrer sanften, feuchten Zunge Svens
besudeltes Antlitz, sowie seinen Hals und seine Brust so gut es ging
sauber. Daraufhin gab sie ihm einen langen, innigen Zungenkuss und haucht
mit unwiderstehlicher Stimme: "Stell dich bitte vor mich. Ich will jetzt,
das du mir deine heiße Ficksahne in den Rachen spritzt!" Sven stand in
Sekundenschnelle kerzengerade vor ihr und sein zuckender Hammer pendelte
direkt vor Beas aufreizend geschminktem Gesicht. "Fick mich tief in meinen
geilen Mund und gib mir alles was du hast!", sprach sie beschwörend und zog
sich den dicken Pimmel bis zum Anschlag in den weit geöffneten Schlund.
Dort ließ sie ihn einen Moment verweilen uns entließ ihn dann wieder
langsam aus der feuchten Umklammerung ihrer perfekt geformten Lippen,
nicht ohne ihn gleichzeitig gefühlvoll mit einer Hand abzuwichsen. Die
andere Hand umfasste den mittlerweile wieder prall gefüllten Hodensack und
ließ die empfindlichen Eier sanft hin und herschaukeln. Dem konnte Sven nun
nicht mehr allzu lange standhalten und er merkte überdeutlich, wie das
frische Sperma langsam den Samenleiter emporstieg und sich zum Finalen
Abschuss sammelte. Auch Bea spürte, dass ihre Bemühungen um den Nektar
ihrer Begierde bald wieder von Erfolg gekrönt würden und sprach zwischen
lautem Schmatzen heiser: "Ja, gleich ist es soweit! Genau das ist es, was
ich so dringend brauche - ich will dich ganz austrinken!!!" Als sie kaum
ausgesprochen hatte und ihren himmlischen Mund gerade wieder über die
purpurrote, pulsierende Eichel stülpte, lösten sich die Samenfäden in
Svens liebkosten Genitalien und schossen mit Hochdruck aus der heftig
pumpenden Schwanzspitze, direkt in Beas dürstende Kehle. In
Sekundenbruchteilen wurde ihr Mund von köstlichen, frischen
Jungmännersamen überschwemmt und mit gierigen großen Schlucken sog sie
davon soviel sie nur konnte tief in ihren bebenden Luxuskörper ein.
Aufgrund ihres saugenden Schlundes und der fordernden Zunge an der
empfindlichen Unterseite seiner Eichel, spritzte Sven immer neue Salven
seines dickflüssigen Saftes in ihren wundervoll feuchtwarmen Mund, so dass
diese irgendwann mit dem Schlucken nicht mehr nach kam und die weiße Soße
aus ihren Mundwinkeln schwappte und in breiten Bächen über ihren Hals bis
auf die bebenden Brüste lief. Sven nahm dies alles kaum noch war und hatte
Mühe, sich, aufgrund der nicht Enden wollenden orgastischen Zuckungen und
Eruptionen seiner Geschlechtsteile, auf den Beinen zu halten.
Als nach fast endlosen Minuten hemmungsloser Ekstase beide wieder langsam
zu sich fanden und der Samenstrom aus Svens gemolkener Eichel versiegt
war, richtete sich Bea aus ihrer gehockten Position auf und sammelte mit
den Innenseiten ihrer überlangen Fingernägel das aus ihrem Mund geflossene
Sperma von ihrem besudelten Gesicht, dem schlanken Hals und ihren perfekt
geformten Brüsten. "Noch keiner hat mich so voll gespritzt wie du, mein
junger Hengst. Vielen Dank - ich liebe das!" sagte sie lächelnd und
lutschte sich genussvoll die weiße Soße von den Nägeln. "Ich hoffe doch,
du kommst nun regelmäßig zum "Haare schneiden" wieder!" säuselte sie
liebevoll und ließ sich von dem vollkommen erschöpften und leer gepumpten
Jungen die letzten Samenreste von den eleganten Händen lecken. Bea wusste,
das Sven ihren weiblichen Reizen ohne Zweifel vollends verfallen war und
sie sich nun so oft sie wollte an seiner jugendlichen Manneskraft würde
laben können.
---------------------------------------------------- - --- -
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Die Mutter des Freundes
Das Lesen der folgenden Geschichte ist Jugendlichen unter 18 Jahren untersagt.
Bitte sorg dafür, dass sie Jugendlichen nicht zugänglich gemacht wird. Jegliche
Weiterverbreitung ist, wenn nicht ausdrücklich anders angegeben, untersagt!
-=Die Mutter des Freundes=-
AutorIn: molicker
eMail: Der Autor kann nur via Web-Formular auf sevac.com kontaktiert werden!
Datum: 4.2004
Quelle: Autor
---------------------------------------------------- - --- -
Die Mutter des Freundes
Es war ein freundlicher Frühlingsnachmittag im Mai und als Thomas mit den
Hausaufgaben fertig war, machte er sich seit langem mal wieder auf den Weg
zu seinem Freund Tim, der wie er gerade 16 Jahre alt geworden war und in
die selbe Klasse ging. Tims Eltern waren noch etwas wohlhabender als die
von Thomas, was man leicht daran erkennen konnte, dass sie in einem
riesigen Haus mit Pool wohnten. Thomas klingelte an der großen Eingangstür
und niemand öffnete. Er wollte gerade umdrehen und sich wieder auf den
Heimweg machen, da bog Tims Mutter mit ihrem roten Porsche Cabrio auf die
Grundstückseinfahrt ein. "Hallo Thomas, du warst ja lange nicht mehr
hier!" begrüßte sie ihn noch im Auto sitzend. "Guten Tag, Frau Schneider",
antwortete Thomas höflich und öffnete ihr gentlemanlike die Wagentür. "Oh -
danke schön! Du bist ja ein richtiger Kavalier geworden!" flötete Frau
Schneider und Thomas wurde etwas rot. Das lag zum einen an dem
unverhofften Kompliment und zum anderen an der Aufmachung von Frau
Schneider, die in einem knallroten Lackminikleid ihrem Porsche entstieg.
Zuerst hob sie ihre langen Beine aus dem Wagen und Thomas Blick blieb an
ihren ebenfalls leuchtend roten Lackstiefeletten hängen. "Wolltest du zu
Tim?" riss ihn Frau Schneider aus seinen Gedanken. "Äh - ja", antwortete
Thomas immer noch etwas verlegen. "Sein Vater ist mit ihm zum Angeln
gefahren, sie müssten aber bald zurückkommen - wenn du willst, kannst du
ja auf ihn warten", forderte Frau Schneider ihn auf, sie ins Haus zu
begleiten. Mit kurzen, eleganten Schritten ging sie voran und Thomas
folgte ihr auf dem Fuße. Er roch ihr teures Parfum, das ihn wie magisch
anzog.
Frau Schneider war eine mehr als attraktive Frau und Thomas schätzte sie
auf etwa 37 oder 38 Jahre. Sie trug eine modische Kurzhaarfrisur und hatte
sich vor kurzem ihr eigentlich brünettes Haar platinblond färben lassen.
Schon seit Thomas sie vor ca. 3 Jahren kennen gelernt hatte, war sie stets
elegant, manchmal etwas extravagant gekleidet und immer auffällig
geschminkt gewesen. Es war ihm bisher nur nie sonderlich aufgefallen,
vielleicht, weil er sie bisher nur als Mutter seines besten Freundes
gesehen hatte.
"Möchtest du etwas trinken?" fragte ihn Frau Schneider als sie beide das
riesige Wohnzimmer betraten. "Ja - das wäre nett", antwortete Thomas
wieder überaus höflich. "Setz dich doch ruhig auf die Couch - ich hole uns
schnell etwas aus dem Kühlschrank", sagte sie und verschwand in der Küche.
Thomas setzte sich auf die große schwarze Ledercouch. Nach ein paar
Minuten kam Frau Schneider mit 2 Gläsern und einer Flasche Champagner
zurück. "Ich habe leider gar nichts anderes im Haus - aber du darfst doch
sicher schon mal einen Schluck probieren - oder? Wir brauchen ja deinen
Eltern nichts davon zu erzählen!" lächelte sie ihn an. Ohne seine Antwort
abzuwarten stellte sie die Gläser und die Flasche auf den Couchtisch und
sagte: "Mach doch schon mal die Flasche auf - der Öffner liegt auf dem
Tisch. Ich geh mir mal schnell was Bequemeres überziehen." Thomas war
etwas irritiert. Natürlich hatte er mit seinen Freunden schon ein paar Mal
heimlich 1 oder 2 Bier getrunken - aber hier mit der Mutter seines besten
Freundes Champagner zu trinken, das war schon etwas anderes. Da er aber
noch nie eine Champagnerflasche geöffnet hatte, stellte er sich damit mehr
als ungeschickt an. Als Frau Schneider das Wohnzimmer wieder betrat,
versuchte er immer noch krampfhaft, den Öffner in den Korken zu schrauben.
Sie lachte leise, als sie den Raum wieder betrat und Thomas verzweifelte
Versuche, die Flasche zu öffnen, sah und sagte: " Na - ich glaube du lässt
mich das mal selbst machen!" Thomas erstarrte, als er sie ansah. Frau
Schneider hatte ihr Minikleid ausgezogen und was sie da "übergezogen"
hatte, war nichts als ein fast durchsichtiger, schwarzer Umhang, der nur
durch einen schmalen Gürtel vorn zusammengehalten wurde. Durch den dünnen
Stoff konnte Thomas ihre schwarze Spitzenunterwäsche hindurchschimmern
sehen. Die Ärmel und der Kragen waren Federboaartig verziert und sie hatte
den Gürtel relativ eng zusammengebunden, so dass ihre frauliche Figur sehr
gut zur Geltung kam. Thomas starrte sie mit offenem Mund an und Frau
Schneider brach die Stille mit den Worten: "Komm - ich halte die Flasche
fest und du drehst den Öffner langsam hinein." Sie beugte sich etwas vor -
so dass Thomas ihr leicht in den mehr als prall gefüllten Ausschnitt sehen
konnte. Ihr mit Rüschen verzierter Push-Up BH drückte die großen,
wohlgeformten Brüste eng zusammen und betonte ihre Weiblichkeit mehr als
er verbarg. Als sie ihm die Champagnerflasche aus der Hand nahm, berührte
sie wie zufällig seine Hand und Thomas blickte fasziniert auf ihre langen,
feuerrot lackierten Fingernägel, die sehr elegant, aber auch etwas
bedrohlich aussahen. Sie stellte die Flasche wieder auf den Tisch und
hielt den Hals mit beiden Händen fest umschlossen. "Versuch es jetzt
nochmal", lächelte sie ihn an und Thomas versuchte sich zu konzentrieren
und schaffte es nach einer Weile den Korken fast aus der Flasche zu
ziehen. Plötzlich gab es einen lauten Knall und der Korken flog im hohen
Bogen gegen die Wohnzimmerdecke. Der Champagner spritzte in hohem Bogen
aus der Flasche und da Frau Schneider diese etwas neigte - direkt über
Thomas T-Shirt und seine Jeans.
"Das, das tut mir Leid!" stammelte Thomas und Frau Schneider entgegnete
sanft: "Halb so schlimm - auf dem Leder gibts schon keine Flecken - nur,
deine Sachen sind jetzt ziemlich nass. Komm mit, wir gehen schnell in Tims
Zimmer und suchen dir was zum wechseln raus." Thomas blieb nichts anderes
übrig und folgte ihr, als sie langsam und grazil die Treppenstufen zum
Zimmer ihres Sohnes hochstieg. Ihr strammer und ausladender Hintern wog
dabei unter dem Umhang hin und her, so dass Thomas auf der letzten Stufe
fast gestolpert wäre, da er die Augen nicht von ihr lassen konnte. Im
Zimmer ihres Sohnes angekommen öffnete sie dessen Kleiderschrank und sagte
zu Thomas: "Zieh deine Hose und dein nasses Hemd aus - ich werde schon was
passendes für dich finden." Thomas traute sich nicht zu widersprechen -
wenn es ihm auch etwas unangenehm war, sich bis auf die Unterhose vor der
Mutter seines Freundes zu entblößen. Außerdem war die ausgiebige
Betrachtung ihrer fraulichen Reize an ihm nicht spurlos vorbeigegangen und
sein Glied war schon relativ stark angeschwollen. Allein der Gedanke, dass
diese Frau alt genug war, seine eigene Mutter zu sein und es die seines
besten Freundes tatsächlich war, ließ es nicht zu, dass er sich weiter in
irgendwelche Fantasien hineinsteigerte.
"Schämst du dich etwa?" fragte Frau Schneider als sie sich wieder
umdrehte und sah, das Thomas immer noch in seinen feuchten Sachen da stand
und sie verlegen anblickte. "Glaube mir - du bist nicht der erste Junge,
der sich vor mir auszieht!" sagte sie mit einem schelmischen Unterton und
Thomas wusste nicht genau wie sie das meinte. Sie ging mit den Sachen
ihres Sohnes in der Hand auf ihn zu und öffnete dabei fast unmerklich den
Gürtel ihres Umhanges, so dass Thomas nun freie Sicht auf ihren, in
schwarzer Reizwäsche verpackten, reifen Körper hatte. Sie reichte ihm die
Sachen und Thomas nahm sie zitternd entgegen. "Du brauchst doch keine
Angst vor mir zu haben - stell dir doch einfach vor, ich wäre deine
Mutter!" hauchte sie nun mit samtweicher Stimme und begann damit, Thomas
das T-Shirt auszuziehen. Sie zog es ihm über den Kopf und warf es auf das
Bett ihres Sohnes. Da Thomas ein sehr guter Sportler war, hatte er für
sein Alter bereits einen ziemlich muskulösen Körper, den sie nun
anerkennend betrachtete. "Ich weiß gar nicht, warum du dich so zierst",
sagte sie und begann mit ihren schlanken Fingern, die Knöpfe seiner
Jeanshose zu öffnen. "dass sieht doch richtig zum anbeißen aus. Also Tim
ist mit Sicherheit noch nicht so gut gebaut!" Dabei ging sie vor ihm in
die Hocke und zog ihm die Hose nun vollends über die Knie. Bis auf seinen
Slip stand Thomas nun völlig nackt vor ihr und verschränkte die Hände vor
der mächtigen Ausbeulung in seiner Unterhose. "Ich habe dir doch gesagt,
dass du keine Angst zu haben brauchst - ich tu dir schon nicht weh!" sagte
sie nun etwas lauter und ihre Hände schoben seine beiseite, so dass Thomas
fast vollständig erigierter Schwanz sich überdeutlich in seinem Slip
abzeichnete. "Wie ich sehe, scheinst du doch an mir auch Gefallen zu
finden!" gurrte sie nun wieder ganz sanft und strich mit einem
Fingernagel, durch den Hosenstoff über den angeschwollenen Phallus. Thomas
erschauderte bei ihrer Berührung. In seinen Gefühlen war er hin und her
gerissen - einerseits konnte er sich den Reizen dieser unglaublich
anziehenden und begehrenswerten Frau nur schwer entziehen - andererseits
war diese Frau die Mutter seines besten Kumpels und nun kniete sie vor
ihm, in dessen Zimmer und streichelte ihm mit ihren erfahrenen Händen über
den nackten Bauch und die Oberschenkel, so dass sein hartes Rohr den Stoff
seiner Boxershorts mittlerweile wie eine Zeltstange spannte. "Aber, Frau
Schneider, wenn jetzt Tim und ihr Mann nach Hause kommen!" nahm er all
seinen Mut zusammen und versuchte, ihr seinen Gefühlszwiespalt klar zu
machen. "Schschschsch!" zischte sie leise und Thomas glaubte, ihren Atem
an seinem immer noch bedeckten Geschlecht fühlen zu können, "sei nicht so
verkrampft und entspanne dich endlich. Die 2 sind heut Morgen zum
Hochseeangeln ans Meer gefahren und sind sicher nicht vor heute Abend
zurück!" Dabei lächelte sie Thomas verführerisch an und griff langsam mit
einer Hand in den Schlitz seiner Shorts. Als ihre Finger zärtlich seinen
inzwischen vollständig erigierten Schwanz umschlossen und ihn aus der
Öffnung heraus ans Freie dirigierten, war es um Thomas geschehen. Aus
tiefster Kehle entwich Frau Schneider ein lustvolles Stöhnen, als sein
steifes Glied nun frei vor ihrem Gesicht stand und sie es genussvoll
betrachtete: "Weißt du eigentlich, was für einen göttlichen Schwanz du
hast?" Sie leckte sich lustvoll über ihre feuerrot geschminkten, prallen
Lippen und begann mit einer Hand sanft über den Schaft zu reiben. Mit der
anderen Hand griff sie von unten durch das Hosenbein der weiten Shorts und
zwängt Thomas noch kaum behaarten, aber prall gefüllten Hodensack an die
Luft. Genießerisch wog sie seine schweren Klötze und murmelte verträumt:
"Das gehört jetzt alles mir!"
Dieser Anblick und die durch ihre kundigen Hände verursachten Gefühle,
waren das schärfste, was Thomas in seinem jungen Leben erlebt hatte.
"Ooooh, Frau Schneider", stammelte er, "das fühlt sich toll an!" "Ich weiß
- und es wird noch viel schöner, mein Junge!" antwortete sie und sah ihm
wieder tief in die Augen. "Ist es das erste Mal, dass dir eine Frau deinen
Schwanz massiert?" fragte sie ihn mit einem bohrenden Blick und Thomas
konnte nur langsam nicken. "Dann hast du wohl auch noch keine Frau nackt
gesehen?" Thomas schüttelte den Kopf. "Möchtest du mich gern nackt sehen?"
ihre Stimme wurde langsam lauter. "Ja bitte, Frau Schneider, sie sind
wunderschön und ich möchte alles von ihnen sehen!" sprudelte es jetzt aus
Thomas hervor. Sie stand wieder auf, behielt aber seine Geschlechtsteile
fest in ihren Händen. "Was möchtest du genau von mir sehen?" Thomas
starrte ihr nur auf die üppige, noch im Rüschen-BH verpackte Oberweite.
"Magst du große Brüste?" bohrte sie weiter, "komm schon, sei nicht so
schüchtern und sag es mir!" Thomas antwortete verlegen: "Ja - ich stehe
unheimlich auf große Busen, Frau Schneider!" Sie wichste noch einmal fest
über seine stolze Lanze und drückte seine samenschweren Eier, bevor sie
wieder von ihm abließ und erst die linke und schließlich auch die rechte
Brust aus den übergroßen Körbchen schälte. Mit offenem Mund sah Thomas
nun, wie sie begann, ihre perfekt geformten Bälle langsam zu streicheln
und die weit herausragenden Nippel zwischen ihren langen Fingernägeln zu
stimulieren. "Gefallen sie dir?" fragte sie ihn aufreizend. "Sie sind
wundervoll!" antwortete Thomas wie aus der Pistole geschossen. "Hat deine
Mutter auch so große Titten?" das andauernde Zwirbeln ihrer Brustwarzen
ließ sie immer tiefer in perverse Gefilde abgleiten. "Ich - ich weiß nicht
- ich glaube nicht!" stammelte Thomas unsicher. "Hast du den deine Mutter
auch noch nicht nackt gesehen? Sei ehrlich!" Was für ein Spiel spielte sie
da mit ihm? Thomas verneinte abermals, seine Mutter war eine zierliche und
sehr religiöse Frau - wenn sie ihn so sehen könnte wäre sie sicher vor
Scham gestorben. Frau Schneider lächelte ihn lüstern an: "Na komm - mein
Kleiner - und saug an Muttis Titten!" Thomas glaubte erst er hatte sich
verhört. Geilte sich diese Luxusschlampe etwa daran auf, sich ihn als
ihren Sohn vorzustellen und sich wie eine billige Hure vor ihm zu
produzieren. Er konnte es nicht fassen, aber ihr Handeln überzeugte ihn
davon, dass dem so war. Sie ging einen halben Schritt auf ihn zu und
leckte sich dabei selbst abwechselnd über die mit beiden Händen nach oben
gepressten Euter. Ihre harten und langen Nippel glänzten von ihrem eigenen
Speichel, den sie mit den Fingerkuppen um ihre Warzen verrieb. Angesichts
dieser geballten Weiblichkeit warf Thomas alle seine Bedenken über Bord.
Sollte sie ihn doch benutzen, um ihre abartigen Fantasien wahr werden zu
lassen - es wahr ihm egal - und wer weiß, ob er ihr hätte widerstehen
können, wäre sie wirklich seine Mutter und nicht die seines besten Kumpels
gewesen. Gierig, wie ein durstiges Kind, saugt er sich an ihren Brüsten
fest, die sie ihm wie 2 überreife Früchte darbot. Sein Schwanz presste
sich fest gegen ihre bestrumpften Oberschenkel und ein kleiner Schwall
Vorfreude trat aus und benetzte ihre halterlose Strumpfhose. Frau
Schneider spürte sofort, dass das Objekt ihrer Begierde bereits kurz davor
war zu explodieren, aber sie beschloss mit einem tiefen Seufzer, dass es
dazu noch nicht kommen durfte. "Mache ich dich den wirklich sooo heiß?"
fragte sie und umschloss mit einer Hand wieder fest seinen Hodensack.
Thomas Erregung wurde durch den süßen Schmerz, der ihn durchzuckte wieder
etwas abgebaut und etwas gepresst stieß er hervor: "Das ist alles so geil
mit ihnen, ich weiß nicht, ob ich dass lange durchstehe - Frau Schneider!"
"Ich werde dir schon beibringen, dich zu beherrschen, mein Junge! Dafür bin
ich doch da!" In ihrer Stimme lag nun wieder diese gewisse Stränge, der
Thomas niemals wagen würde zu widersprechen. "Setz dich hier in den Sessel
und entspann dich - ich werde dich jetzt ein wenig verwöhnen!" sagte sie
und zog Thomas an seinen Eiern hinüber auf den Ledersessel, der gegenüber
dem Spiegelschrank stand.
Als Thomas sich setzte, kniete sie sich sogleich zwischen seine
gespreizten Beine und ihre Brüste lagen schwer auf seinen Oberschenkeln.
Sein Schwanz stand kerzengerade direkt vor ihrem Gesicht und sein Anblick
erregte sie dermaßen, dass sie sich mit einer Hand in den bereits
durchnässten, schwarzen Stringslip griff, den Zwickel mit 2 Fingern
beiseite schob und sofort 2 weitere Finger durch ihre klatschnasse, ab den
Schamlippen glatt rasierte Furche gleiten lies. Dabei reckte sie ihren
gewaltigen Arsch weit nach oben und Thomas konnte im Spiegel des
Kleiderschranks jede ihrer Bewegungen genau beobachten. Ihre andere Hand
löste nun den Griff um sein Gehänge und schloss sich stattdessen fest um
die Wurzel seines Lustknochens. Sie blickte ihm wieder in die Augen und
sah, wie er gebannt auf den Spiegel starrte und sie bei dem Fingerspiel
mit ihrer Grotte beobachtete. "Sieh mich an - Ich lecke dir jetzt deinen
prächtigen, jungen Schwanz!" hauchte sie unter lustvollem Stöhnen und er
sah, wie sich ihre glänzenden Lippen öffneten und ihre lange feuchte Zunge
sich, wie in Zeitlupe, hindurch schob, um schließlich schlangenartig seine
geschwollene Eichel zu umspielen. Was Thomas dabei fühlte, hätte er nicht
mit Worten beschreiben können. Sie ließ ihre Zungenspitze nun langsam an
der Unterseite seines Rohres hinunter gleiten, um es, am unteren Ende
angekommen, halb mit ihren wulstigen Lippen zu umschließen. Ihrem
lüsternen Blicken weiter standhaltend, sah und spürte Thomas nun wie sich
ihr Mund wieder unter ständigem Lecken ihrer geschmeidigen Zunge bis zu
seiner Schwanzspitze hocharbeitete. Dort verharrte sie einen Moment und
mit einem inbrünstigen Grunzen stülpte sie ihre Lippen nun komplett über
die Eichel. Abwechselnd leckte sie nun kreisförmig darüber und knabberte
sanft aber deutlich spürbar mit den Zähnen an der fast bis zum Zerreißen
gespannten Haut. Immer tiefer wanderten ihre Zähne an seinem dicken Mast
hinab, bis dieser schließlich völlig von ihrem feuchtwarmen Schlund
umfangen war. Thomas hätte so etwas nie für möglich gehalten, und hätte
sie ihren Griff um seine Schwanzwurzel nicht noch verstärkt und damit den
Samenleiter praktisch gekonnt abgedrückt - er hätte sich unter Hochdruck
in ihrem gierigen Rachen entladen. Seine Oberschenkel begannen zu zittern
und mit verklärtem Blich wimmerte er nur noch: "Das ist so geil - Das ist
so geil - Bitte Bitte hören sie nie mehr damit auf!!!" Frau Schneider
registrierte anhand des zuckenden Pimmels in ihrem Mund sofort, das er
fast seinen Gipfel erreicht hatte und kurz vor dem Punkt, an dem es für
ihn kein zurück mehr gegeben hätte, entließ sie ihn langsam aus der
feuchtwarmen Umklammerung ihres Mundes. Sie wartete ab, bis das Zucken
seines Kolbens etwas abebbte und lockerte nun auch den Klammergriff um
seine abgepresste Schwanzwurzel ein wenig. Sogleich quoll ein
beträchtlicher Schwall Vorschmiere und Samenflüssigkeit aus der leuchtend
blauen Eichel und lief den glänzenden Schaft hinunter, auf die übervollen
Eier. "Oh toll, ist das für mich? " fragte Frau Schneider ihren jungen
Gespielen nur zum Schein und leckte schlürfend die ersten sämigen Früchte
seiner Lenden von den besudelten Hoden. Der herbe, leicht salzige
Geschmack seiner noch so jungenhaften Männlichkeit ließ auch ihre reife,
aber nicht weniger gereizte Pflaume fast überquellen. Noch einmal ließ sie
ihre Finger durch das triefende Loch fahren, bevor sie mit den langen
Nägeln die Samenspur an Thomas steinhartem Glied aufnahm. Genießerisch und
fast andächtig führte sie sich jeden einzelnen Finger in den Mund, um
keinen Tropfen ihrer beider Lust zu verschwenden. "Du schmeckst besser,
als alles was ich bisher gekostet habe!" flüsterte sie nun fast, um diesen
magischen Moment noch etwas länger zu bewahren. Thomas konnte nichts sagen.
Sie hatte ihn kurz vor dem Gipfel praktisch wieder ins Tal gestoßen und
trotzdem labte sich diese Meisterin der Lust bereits an seinen
Körpersäften!
Ihr Blick durchbohrte ihn fast als sie weiter sprach: "Jetzt darfst du
auch von mir trinken!" Sie erhob sich und zog in Windeseile ihr inzwischen
triefnasses Stringhöschen aus, so dass Thomas ihre sorgfältig teilrasierte
Möse erstmals direkt von vorn bewundern konnte. Die langen Schamlippen
waren dick geschwollen und glänzten vom Nass ihrer Schmiere. Plötzlich
stieg sie mit ihren hochhackigen Stiefeletten auf den Sessel und hielt ihm
ihre, mit den Fingern einer Hand, weit geöffneten Möse direkt vor das
überraschte Gesicht. "Komm mein Kleiner", sagte sie fordernd, "sei brav
und leck an Muttis Fotze!" "Alles was du willst!" mehr konnte Thomas nicht
mehr sagen, denn sofort drückte sie ihm ihre glitschigen Schamlippen auf
den geöffneten Mund und er leckte wie von Sinnen durch ihre weit
gespreizte Futt. Der Duft ihres reifen Geschlechtes und der Geschmack der
immer heftiger aus ihrem innersten hervorquellenden Säfte ließ ihn fast
die Besinnung verlieren. Laut schmatzend stieß er seine gelenkige Zunge
immer tiefer in ihre Lusthöhle und unter ihren tiefen Schreien feuerte sie
ihn immer weiter an: "Jaaaaaaaaa - so ist es richtig! Das ist es was ich
brauche! Mach weiter und leck mir die Muttifotze aus!" Sie war völlig
weggetreten und drückte nun mit einer Hand seinen Kopf so fest gegen ihre
übersprudelnde Furche, dass Thomas Angst bekam, in ihrem Mösenschleim zu
ertrinken. Er konnte direkt vor seinen Augen sehen, wie sie mit dem
Zeigefinger ihren glutrot angeschwollenen Kitzler bearbeitete und dieser
heiße Anblick spornte ihn dazu an, sie noch tiefer und intensiver mit
seiner schon schmerzenden Zunge zu ficken. Unter unverständlichen Lauten
und fast tiergleichem Gegrunze wurde sie schließlich von einem
überwältigenden Orgasmus gepackt, der sie wie wild durchschüttelte und
Thomas Gesicht mit ihrem Schleim überschwemmte. Selber wie benebelt,
versuchte er soviel er nur konnte davon zu schlucken aber der nicht enden
wollenden Strom ihrer Lust lief ihm aus den Mundwinkeln und über sein
ganzes Gesicht. "Oh mein Gott!" , stammelte sie, als die Quelle langsam
versiegte, "du hast mich völlig ausgesaugt mit deiner fantastischen
Zunge!" Sie lächelte ihn verträumt an und sah nun, wie heftig sie ihn
besudelt hatte. "Lass mich dich sauberlecken!" gurrte sie und leckte ihm
die Spuren ihres Orgasmus von Hals und Gesicht, bis sie mit ihrer Zunge
seine Lippen erreichte und sie ihm tief in den Mund schob. Er erwiderte
ihren leidenschaftlichen Kuss und fühlte sich großartig. Er hatte dieser
erfahrenen Superfrau einen gewaltigen Orgasmus geschenkt und würde alles
tun, um dieses einzigartige Erlebnis zu wiederholen.
Um ihrem jugendlichen Lecker von ihren glänzenden Brei zu befreien, war
Frau Schneider ein ganzes Stück tiefer gerutscht und langsam näherte sich
ihre dunkelrot glänzende Möse nun seinem steil aufgerichteten Mast. Als
Thomas mittlerweile nicht mehr ganz so dicke Eichel sanft gegen ihre
geschwollenen Schamlippen stieß, haucht sie ihm ins Ohr: "Ich will dich
jetzt tief in mir spüren, mein Liebling!" Sie ließ ihr ausladendes Becken
noch etwas tiefer gleiten und wie von selbst drang der harte Knochen in
voller Länge in sie ein. "Ooooooooh!!!! Du füllst mich völlig aus mit dem
Riesending!" stöhnte sie schon wieder fast in Ekstase und rutsche langsam
auf ihm vor und wieder zurück. Thomas bewegte sich nicht und genoss nur
dieses einmalige Gefühl, wie ihre erfahrene, feuchtheiße Fotze seinen
Schwanz tief in sich umklammerte. Da sie sich nicht sehr schnell bewegte
und den prallen Luststab durch langsames Kreisen ihres Beckens mehr tief
in sich rühren lies, als ihn zu ficken, waren die Reizungen für Thomas
gerade noch erträglich aber nicht minder aufregend. Mit ihren Händen griff
sie nach hinten und spreizte die drallen Arschbacken weit auseinander, so
dass Thomas im Spiegel ihre leicht faltige, dunkele Rosette bewundern
konnte. Durch ihre Position ragten ihre vollen Brüste noch weiter nach
vorn und Thomas begann, die festen Lustkugeln mit beiden Händen kräftig
durchzukneten. "Jaaaaaaaa!!! Massiere meine dicken Titten und saug dich an
mir fest!!!" rief sie und drückte ihm abwechselnd ihr weit
hervorgetretenen Nippel in den geöffneten Mund. Thomas saugte an ihr, als
würde sein Leben daran hängen und bei einem erneuten Blick in den Spiegel
sah er, wie Frau Schneider mit den Fingern nach ihrer unheimlich weit
gespreizten Rosette tastete. Plötzlich hielt sie in ihren kreisenden
Bewegungen inne. Mit einem lustvollem Stöhnen führte sie einen langen
Fingernagel direkt vor das enge Arschloch und stieß sich den ganzen Finger
mit einem Ruck in den Hintereingang. Sie fickte sich mit dem Finger immer
heftiger selbst in den Arsch und Thomas glaubte an der Unterseite seines
Schwanzes, der immer noch tief in ihrer Muschi steckte, das leichte
Kratzen ihres Fingernagels spüren zu können. "Gleich bin ich wieder
soweit! Bewege dich nicht!" ächzte sie und ließ ihr Becken nun wieder
schneller hin und herkreisen. Thomas Schwanz wurde von dem Fluss ihres
aufsteigenden Orgasmus ertränkt, ihr Saft floss nun in Strömen über dem
Schaft nach draußen und verteilte sich auf seinem Bauch und den
samenvollen Eiern. "Ich spritz dir auf dein geiles Fickrohr, mein Junge!"
schrie sie nun fast und fickte sich seinen Hammer bis zum Anschlag in die
zuckende und überlaufende Pflaume. Keuchend und heftig schwitzend brach
sie über ihm zusammen und Thomas leckte ihr die perlenden Schweißtropfen
von Brüsten und Hals, bis sie seine Zunge wieder unendlich dankbar in
ihren Mund einsaugte.
Heftig pochend steckte seine stolze Männlichkeit noch immer tief in ihr.
Frau Schneider spürte, dass er sich nicht mehr lange beherrschen können
wurde und entließ seine Zunge aus ihrem Mund. "Na, mein geiler Junghengst,
hat dir dein erster Fick gefallen?" fragte sie ihn zärtlich. "Ich glaube,
es kann nichts Schöneres geben!" gab ihr Thomas zur Antwort und
streichelte ihr dabei liebevoll über den Hintern. "Oh, du süßer Ficker" ,
lächelte sie ihn an, "es gibt da schon noch etwas! Soll ich es dir
zeigen?" Erwartungsvoll nickte Thomas nur und spürte, wie sie wieder seine
Schwanzwurzel zwischen Daumen und Zeigefinger abdrückte und ihn langsam aus
sich heraus gleiten lies. Nun veränderte sie ihre kniende Position und ging
über ihm in die Hocke, die hochhackigen Stiefeletten eng seitlich an sein
Becken gepresst. Aus ihrer Möse quoll noch immer der Saft ihres vergangen
Höhepunktes, den sie jetzt mit einer Hand auffing und sich wohlig
schnurrend auf ihre weit gespreizte Rosette schmierte. Da sie ihr pralles
Hinterteil nun weit nach vorne schob, konnte Thomas genau erkennen, wie
das verlockende Arschloch direkt über seiner, nun wieder zum platzen
gespannten Eichel kreiste. Ihre langen, schlanken Finger suchten sich wie
von selbst ihren Weg und dieses mal verschwanden gleich 2 in ihrem engen
Poloch. "Du warst bis jetzt sehr standhaft", lobte sie Thomas mit glasigem
Blick, "und zur Belohnung darf du mich jetzt in meinen Arsch ficken!
Würdest du das gerne tun?" Er konnte nichts mehr sagen, so faszinierte ihn
dieser atemberaubende Anblick und seinem Mund entfuhr nur ein tiefes
brunftiges Stöhnen. Seine reife Rittmeisterin deutete dies natürlich als
Zustimmung und entließ ihre wühlenden Finger aus ihrem engen Hintereingang
mit einem langen Seufzer. Durch ihre Fingermassage hatte sie ihren
Schließmuskel nun weit genug gedehnt um seine glänzende Eichel passieren
zu lassen. Sorgfältig beschmierte sie seinen stocksteifen Riemen mit noch
mehr Gleitschmiere aus ihrer weit geöffneten Grotte und sengte ihr Becken
langsam hinab, bis seine nässende Eichel direkt an das weiche
Rosettenfleisch drückte. "Komm jetzt mein Junge und steck deinen
göttlichen Schwanz in mein Allerheiligstes!!!" sie hatte die Augen
geschlossen und war schon wieder vor Lust völlig weggetreten. Ihr
himmlischer Arsch senkte sich Millimeter für Millimeter auf seinen Steifen
und fast ohne Widerstand passierte die, mit ihrem Schleim besudelte Eichel
den geweiteten Schließmuskel, um sich immer tiefer ihn ihren engen Darm zu
bohren. Erst als der Fickprügel gänzlich in ihrem glutheißen Rektalkanal
versunken war, öffnete sie wieder die Augen und sah Thomas unter sich mit
bebender Stimme stammeln: "Bitte - Bitte - Ich tue was sie wollen - aber
bitte hören sie nie mehr damit auf - es ist so geil in ihrem Arsch - ich
könnte darin sterben!" Langsam und mit tiefen Lauten der Wollust bewegte
sie nun ihren Hintern auf seinem mächtigen Dorn auf und nieder. Eine Hand
krallte sich fest an seiner Schwanzwurzel und die andere griff ihm mit
sanfter Gewalt in die Hoden, so dass der Schmerz in aufschreien lies -
aber dafür seine kurz bevorstehende Ejakulation noch einmal verhinderte.
"Jetzt wirst du Junghengst richtig zugeritten!" brüllte sie fast und ihre
Bewegungen wurden immer schneller und aggressiver. Völlig in wilder
Ekstase aufgelöst rammte sie sich seinen Hengstschwanz ins Gedärm und
bearbeitet mit der Hand, die eben noch seinen Sack malträtiert hatte,
ihren wieder dick angeschwollenen Kitzler. Es kam ihr nun mit solch einer
unmenschlichen Gewalt, das sie fast die Besinnung verlor - aber der wild
zuckende Prügel in ihrer Arschfotze holte sie wieder in die Wirklichkeit
zurück. Unterbewusst nahm sie war, dass jetzt auch ihr junger Fickschüler
sein Recht einforderte und ihn nichts mehr daran hindern konnte, endlich
die Frucht seiner Lenden aus seinem inzwischen schmerzhaft bockenden Rohr
zu schießen. "Ich kann es nicht länger .!" bettelte er und sie entlies
seinen Riemen aus der Wärme ihres Innersten. "Ja - mein braver Junge! Es
ist soweit! Komm und spritz für mich - gib Mutti alles was du hasst!!!"
Sie saß nun breitbeinig auf seinen Oberschenkeln und hielt sein
abspritzbereites Glied zwischen ihren gefalteten Händen, die langen
Fingernägel der Daumen lockend an der Unterseite der Eichel kraulend. Sein
Unterkörper bäumte sich auf und der erste kochendheiße Schuss weisen
Spermas traf sie mitten in das voller Verlangen blickende Gesicht. Der 2.
und 3. Strahl klatschte heiß auf ihren mächtigen Titten und weitere Schübe
milchiger Sahne quollen unter ihren kräftigen Wichsbewegungen über ihre
wundervollen Hände. Thomas konnte nichts anderes tun als sich seinem
Höhepunkt zu ergeben und voller Bewunderung sah er, wie sie seinen
gequälten Schwanz bis auf den letzten Tropfen auswrang und sich seinen
Samen mit tiefen Seufzern der Lust im Gesicht, auf den glänzenden Brüsten
und auf ihrem ganzen Körper verrieb. Hingebungsvoll leckte sie sich
anschließend noch die langen Finger sauber und beugte sich hinunter zu
seinem mittlerweile halbsteifen Schwanz um auch ihn und die besudelten
Eier von seinem und ihrem Saft zu säubern. Dann erreichte ihr, mit Sperma
verschmierter Mund endlich den seinen und voller Inbrunst küssten und
leckten sie einander ab. "Wenn du willst, komm doch morgen Abend wieder -
da geht Tim mit seinem Vater zum Bowling! Ich hab noch lange nicht genug
von dir!" sagte sie verheißungsvoll und Thomas lächelte sie verträumt und
glücklich an.
---------------------------------------------------- - --- -
seVac - erotische Geschichten im Netz!
http://www.seVac.com
-
Die Mutter des Freundes - Episode 2
Das Lesen der folgenden Geschichte ist Jugendlichen unter 18 Jahren untersagt.
Bitte sorg dafür, dass sie Jugendlichen nicht zugänglich gemacht wird. Jegliche
Weiterverbreitung ist, wenn nicht ausdrücklich anders angegeben, untersagt!
-=Die Mutter des Freundes - Episode 2=-
AutorIn: molicker
eMail: Der Autor kann nur via Web-Formular auf sevac.com kontaktiert werden!
Datum: 7.2004
Quelle: Autor
---------------------------------------------------- - --- -
Die Mutter des Freundes - Episode 2
Als Thomas nach dem rauschenden Sexabenteuer mit Frau Schneider, der Mutter
seines besten Freundes Tim, wieder zu Hause war und in seinem Bett lag,
ging ihm das gerade Erlebte immer wieder durch den Kopf und in seiner Hose
machte sich sein nun "entjungferter" Freund deutlich bemerkbar. Am liebsten
hätte er sich, in süßen Erinnerungen versunken, selbst Erleichterung
verschafft, aber die mahnenden Worte seiner Liebeslehrerin lagen ihm noch
im Ohr: "Wage ja nicht, deinen kostbaren Samen einfach in die Laken zu
wichsen, mein Junge. Ab heute gehören deine prallen Eier mir und ich
bestimme, wann und wo du abspritzen darfst!" Dabei hatte sie ihm nochmals
kräftig den Sack durch den Stoff der Jeanshose hindurch gedrückt und ihm
zum Abschied ihre lange Zunge tief in den Hals gestoßen. Sie hatten sich
für morgen Abend, um 18:30 Uhr, erneut in ihrer Villa verabredet, da Tim,
ihr Sohn, ja wie angekündigt mit seinem Vater um 18:00 Uhr zum Bowling
wollte. Thomas konnte das Wiedersehen mit der Frau seiner Träume nicht
erwarten, aber er hielt sich an ihre Ermahnung und rührte seinen ebenfalls
erwartungsvoll strammstehenden "ständigen Begleiter" nicht mal mit dem
kleinen Finger an.
Am nächsten Tag war Sonntag, keine Schule, und Thomas war froh, dass ihm
Tim so nicht über den Weg lief, denn er hätte nicht gewusst, wie er sich
ihm gegenüber hätte verhalten sollen - jetzt, wo er dessen Mutter so
erlebt hatte, wie sie wohl selbst Tims Vater nicht kannte: Als
spermasüchtige Sexgöttin, die in ihrer Gier nach Befriedigung auch nicht
vor dem besten Freund ihres Sohnes halt machte. Er konnte an nichts
anderes mehr denken als an ihren anbetungswürdigen Körper und zählte die
Minuten, bis er sie endlich wieder sehen würde. Punkt 18:30 stand er an
der großen Eingangstür ihrer Villa und drückte mit zitternden Fingern den
Klingelkopf. Ein lautes "Ding-Dong" erschall und Thomas blickte sich
ängstlich um, ob nicht etwa ein Nachbar zufällig vorbeiging und sich
fragte, was er wohl hier zu suchen habe. Aber niemand war auf der Straße
und alsbald hörte er die ersehnte Stimme von Frau Schneider durch die
Gegensprechanlage: "Hallo - wer ist da?" Thomas antwortete etwas
zögerlich: "Ich bins, Thomas. Sie haben doch gestern gesagt ", weiter kam
er nicht, denn mit strenger Stimme wies ihn Frau Schneider an: "Komm rein
und schließe die Tür hinter dir, ich bin hier draußen auf der Terrasse und
warte schon auf dich!" Der Türsummer erklang und schnell trat Thomas ein.
Er schloss die Tür wieder hinter sich und begab sich sofort zur Terrasse,
die direkt an das riesige Wohnzimmer grenzte. Es war ein sehr warmer Tag
und da die großzügige Terrasse der Schneiders von hohen Tannen und Büschen
umgeben war, war es hier schön schattig und kühl. Die Abendsonne schien nur
noch auf einen kleinen Bereich, auf dem ein gepolsterter Liegestuhl stand
und hier erwartete Sylvia Schneider ihren jungen Gespielen, der sich ihr
langsam näherte. Sie trug einen mehr als knappen, schwarzen Tanga-Bikini,
der ihre üppigen Rundungen eher noch hervorhub als verhüllte, und überaus
hochhackige schwarze Riemchenpumps. Ihr platinblondes Haar glänzte
förmlich in der Sonne und ihr soeben sorgfältig eingeölter Luxuskörper
räkelte sich lasziv auf dem bequemen Polster, als sie Thomas herankommen
sah.
"Zieh dich aus und zeig Mutti, was für ein großer Junge du geworden bist!"
sagte sie lächelnd und begann ihr verbotenes Spiel ohne Umschweife von
neuem. Durch ihre dunkele Sonnenbrille hindurch blickte sie Thomas
erwartungsvoll an und begann gedankenverloren ihre mächtigen Brüste durch
das Bikinioberteil mit den ölig glänzenden Händen zu liebkosen. Natürlich
war Thomas bereits hoch erregt und ohne ein Wort der Begrüßung entledigte
er sich so schnell er konnte seiner Kleidung, bis er schließlich
splitternackt und mit hoch erhobener Lanze vor der jetzt hemmungslos
masturbierenden Mutter seines besten Freundes stand. Diese hatte ihren
knappen Bikini mit wenigen Handgriffen ausgezogen und beiseite geworfen,
um nun ungehindert an ihren hochsensiblen Brustwarzen sowie der feucht
schimmernden und rasierten Spalte manipulieren zu können. "Warst du auch
brav und hast deinen köstlichen Saft für mich aufgespart, wie ich es dir
gesagt habe?" fragte Sylvia den vor ihr stehenden Jungen und schob ihre
Sonnenbrille über die Stirn, zwischen ihre platinblonden Haare. Thomas
konnte das Funkeln in ihren Augen sehen, als sie wohlwollend sein hartes
Rohr betrachtete und antwortete wahrheitsgemäß: "Ja, natürlich Frau
Schneider! Ich habe alles für sie aufgehoben und musste die ganze Nacht
und den ganzen Tag nur an sie denken!" Sylvia Schneider lächelte glücklich
bei seinen Worten, denn sie wusste, das, was immer sie von diesem Jungen
verlangen würde, er ohne zu Zögern für sie tun würde - allein um seinen
ungezügelten jugendlichen Trieb an und in ihrem perfekten Körper austoben
zu können. "Nun", sagte sie wieder etwas ernster, "wenn du möchtest, dass
wir zwei weiter unseren Spaß miteinander haben wollen, musst du mir nur
einen Wunsch erfüllen: Wenn wir zwei allein sind, sagst du ab sofort Mutti
zu mir! Hast du mich verstanden?" Sie war mittlerweile von ihrer Liege
aufgestanden und stand direkt vor Thomas, mit leicht gespreizten Beinen
auf ihren hochhackigen Pumps und mit in den wohlgeformten Hüften
gestemmten Händen. Allein ihre unmittelbare Nähe reichte fast aus, um
Thomas überlaufende Hoden explodieren zu lassen und mit zitternder Stimme
antwortete er: "Ja Mutti, ich tue alles was du willst. Wenn du nur wieder
so tolle Sachen wie gestern mit mir machst!" Dabei begann sein harter
Schwanz leicht zu zucken und an der purpurnen Nille bildeten sich die
ersten Tropfen der Wollust, obwohl weder sie noch er ihn bis jetzt berührt
hatten. "Das ist schön mein Junge!" sprach Sylvia sanft und hockte sich
breitbeinig vor das abschussbereite Glied, um sich erneut voller Hingabe
der Massage ihrer hochsensiblen Geschlechtsteile zu widmen. Mit ihren
erfahrenen Händen brauchte sie nicht sehr lange, um sich bis kurz vor
ihren ersten Höhepunkt zu stimulieren und als sie fühlte, dass ihr
Orgasmus unmittelbar bevorstand, stöhnte sie inbrünstig hervor: "Gib Mutti
jetzt was ihr gehört!" Sie umschloss mit einer Hand den adrigen Stamm des
mächtigen Phallus und wichste sich mit weit gespreizten Fingern der
anderen den geschwollenen Kitzler. 3 - 4 kräftig melkende Bewegungen über
den pochenden Ständer des Jungen vor ihr genügten, um ihm den heiß
ersehnten Lebenssaft zu entlocken. Thomas schnaufte auf wie ein wilder
Hengst und mit fast schmerzvollem Überdruck entlud er sich in dem weit
geöffneten Mund seiner "Ersatzmutter". Als der gallertartige Samen auf
ihre fordernd herausgestreckte Zunge traf und heiß den gierigen Rachen
hinunterlief, konnte auch sie sich nicht mehr beherrschen und kam mit
ungehemmter Leidenschaft. Unter gurgelndem Stöhnen schluckte sie so viel
der salzig herben Liebessoße wie sie konnte und ließ den unablässig weiter
sprudelnden Quell weißer Eiersahne über ihr Gesicht und die stramm
abstehenden Brüste spritzen, bis der nicht Enden wollende Strom doch noch
versiegte. Um nichts von der nahrhaften Essens seiner Männlichkeit zu
vergeuden, nahm sie ihre vom eigenen Mösensaft durchtränkte Hand zu Hilfe
und sammelte mit beiden Händen die Samenspritzer von ihren Titten und aus
ihrem Gesicht, so dass sie bald in ihren eleganten Händen eine betörend
duftende Mixtur aus reifem Fotzensaft und jungem Hodensud gesammelt hatte.
"Komm mein Sohn, und trinke von dem Nektar unserer gemeinsamen Lust!" sagte
sie fast feierlich mit bebender Stimme. "Auf das du mir immer ein williger
Lustknabe seien wirst!" Willenlos sank Thomas auf die Knie und öffnete
ehrfürchtig seinen Mund. Zu zweit leckten sie wie 2 triebhafte Tiere den
geilen Schleim von Sylvias, mit dicken Goldringen geschmückten Händen und
ihre langen, knallrot lackierten Fingernägel tauchte sie abwechseln in
ihren und in Thomas Mund, bis kein Tropfen der Wollust mehr an ihnen
haftete. In völliger Seligkeit versunken trafen sich ihre Münder zu einem
langen und feuchten Kuss, in dem sich ihre Zungen wild umschlungen und
beide die Säfte ihrer Lenden gierig verschlangen.
Als Sylvia Schneider nach minutenlangem Küssen und Abschlecken ihre
erfahrenen Hände zärtlich über den jugendlichen Körper ihres
"Wunschsohnes" gleiten lies, registrierte sie mit einem zufriedenen
Lächeln, das sein begnadetes Glied trotz eines unglaublich heftigen
Orgasmus kaum an Härte und Länge eingebußt hatte. "Komm mit", hauchte Sie
verführerisch, nahm Thomas an der Hand und führte ihn hinter sich ins
Haus, die große Treppe hinauf, bis in das luxuriöse Badezimmer. Es war
mittlerweile 19:00 Uhr und Thomas fragte etwas unsicher: "Wann kommen denn
?" "Keine Angst, vor 22:00 Uhr bestimmt nicht!" unterbrach ihn Frau
Schneider knapp, die diesen Abend anscheinend minutiös geplant und mit
Thomas noch viel vorhatte. Das große Badezimmer war fast wie ein römischer
Badetempel, mit echtem, dunkel glänzendem Marmor und vielen Spiegeln an
Decken und Wänden eingerichtet. In der Mitte erhob sich auf einem kleinen
Podest ein überdimensionaler schwarzer Whirlpool von ca. 3 Meter
Durchmesser, in dem schon warmes Wasser eingelassen war. Dorthin führte
Sylvia den freudig erregten Thomas, der mit wippendem Gemächt brav hinter
ihr her schritt. Grazil wie eine Gazelle entstieg sie ihren hochhackigen
Pumps und sagte lächelnd zu Thomas: "Steig Du schon mal rein - ich komme
gleich nach!" Thomas stieg vorsichtig in die riesige Badewanne und legte
sich sogleich flach auf den Rücken, in das angenehm warme Wasser. Es war
nur soviel Wasser eingelassen, das zwar sein athletischer Körper im Wasser
lag, sein steil empor stehendes Rohr aber wie ein U-Boot-Periskop
kerzengerade heraus ragte. Frau Schneider griff währenddessen mit einer
Hand nach dem Regler für die Massagedüsen und stellte diesen auf eine
niedrige Position, so dass das ruhige Wasser nun etwas aufgewühlt und
Thomas Körper von sanften Massagestrahlen verwöhnt wurde. In der anderen
Hand hielt sie 3 in etwa wallnussgroße, milchig weiße Badekugeln, welche
sie elegant in das sprudelnde Wasser gleiten lies. Die Kugeln lösten sich
in dem warmen Wasser rasch auf und das klare Badewasser verwandelte sich
im Handumdrehen in eine leicht sämige Flüssigkeit, der ein betörender Duft
entströmte. "Das sind Kleopatra-Kugeln, die habe ich mir aus Ägypten
mitgebracht. Dort glaubt man, den Frauen schenken sie jugendliche
Schönheit und den Männern ungezügelte Potenz! Doch auf mich haben sie noch
eine andere Wirkung: Soll ich dir zeigen welche?" erklärte Sylvia dem
gespannt lauschenden Thomas und dieser nickte nur zustimmend. Sylvia
Schneider betrat nun ebenfalls die Wanne und setzte sich mit gespreizten
Beinen schamlos auf Thomas Oberschenkel. Der stolze Lustspender stand
direkt vor ihrer rasierten Grotte, deren dunkelrote Schamlippen so eben
noch in den warmen Badesud eintauchten. Mit ihren wertvoll beringten,
langnageligen Fingern durchpflügte sie die duftende Brühe links und rechts
neben sich. Dabei nahm sie einiges von der geheimnisvollen Flüssigkeit mit
ihren schlanken Händen auf und ließ sie, wie in Zeitlupe, auf ihren
makellosen Körper tropfen, um sie dort genussvoll zu verreiben. Nicht ohne
sich zwischendurch den einen oder anderen Finger lasziv in den grell
geschminkten Mund zu stecken und gedankenverloren abzuschlecken. Das
milchige Wasser hinterließ auf ihrer sonnengebräunten Haut eine leichte
weißliche Spur, so dass es aussah, als würde sie ein lustvolles Bad in
einer Wanne voll von Sperma und Mösensaft nehmen! Thomas konnte sich an
ihrem dekadenten Treiben nicht satt sehen und griff mit beiden Händen nach
ihren festen Brüsten um sie zärtlich aber fest durchzukneten. "Ja, mein
Liebling - fass mich ruhig fester an - lass mich spüren, dass du ein
richtiger Mann geworden bist!" spornte Frau Schneider ihn an und rieb sich
selbst mit einer Hand die hungrige Muttermöse. Mit der anderen Hand
umfasste sie Thomas harten Prügel und drückte ihn fest gegen seinen Bauch.
Ihre lüsternen Augen erblickten seine wieder aufgefüllten Hoden und mit den
Worten: "Deine Samen war wirklich lecker - aber deine Eier sollen heute
mein Hauptgericht sein!" beugte sie sich tief hinunter und begann, wie
eine Verdurstende erst einzeln und schließlich beide Saftkugeln in ihren
nimmersatten Mund einzusaugen und genüsslich abzulutschen. Thomas walkte
das weiche Lustfleisch ihrer betörenden Brüste immer heftiger und
schließlich war es fast wieder so weit, dass ein unaufhaltsam auf sie
zurollender Orgasmus Sylvia Schneider überrollen würde. Am ganzen Leib
zitternd richtete sie sich auf und wies ihren jungen Geliebten an: "Nimm
mich jetzt und ich schenke dir den Saft meiner heiligen Mutterliebe!" Sie
setzte sich auf eine leicht erhöhte Aussparung am Wannenrand, die wie für
diese Liebesstellung gemacht schien. Thomas kniete mittlerweile ungeduldig
vor ihr und mit weit gespreizten Beinen, die Füße auf Thomas breiten
Schultern legend, griff Frau Schneider zielsicher nach dem ihr
dargebotenen Lusthammer und führte ihn sich in einem Zug bis zum Anschlag
in die überquellende Liebesgrotte ein. Ihre Scheidenmuskulatur schmiegte
sich sanft um das mächtige, glühend heiße Rohr in ihr und langsam begann
Thomas, mit vorsichtigen Fickbewegungen in ihr rumzurühren. Er stöhnte
leise bei seinen Bemühungen, es auch für seine Liebeslehrerin so schön wie
möglich zu machen, was diese dankbar registrierte und mit glänzenden Augen
sagte: "Du bist ein wundervoller Liebhaber mein Junge - schau und koste
jetzt die warme Milch aus Muttis Titten!" Sylvia Schneider saß fasst
aufrecht vor dem zärtlich in sie rein und rausfickenden Jungen, als sie
mit beiden Händen über kreuz nach jeweils einer hoch erregten und steil
von ihren großen Brüsten abstehenden Warze griff. Sie zwirbelten die
Kronen ihrer Lustbälle zwischen den langen knallroten Nägeln von Zeige-
und Ringfinger, während ihre Hände das wogende Tittenfleisch fest
zusammenpressten und ihr Stöhnen wurde stetig lauter und unkontrollierter.
Thomas starrte wie geistesabwesend auf die ihm dargebotene pralle
Weiblichkeit, während sein Unterkörper immer heftiger in den sich wild vor
ihm windenden Frauenleib fickte. Frau Schneider knetete und presste ihre
übergroßen Möpse in völliger Ekstase und plötzlich bildeten sich auf den
dunkelroten Spitzen ihrer überreizten Warzen kleine milchige Tröpfchen,
die aber rasch voller wurden, um als weißliche Perlen an den herrlichen
Busenbergen hinab in Richtung ihrer Scham flossen. Wie einem uralten
Instinkt folgend, schnappte Thomas mit weit geöffneten Lippen nach den
abmilchenden Brustwarzen seiner Angebeteten und saugte den warmen
Lebenssaft der Mutter seines besten Freundes voller Leidenschaft in sich
hinein. "Jaaaa! Mein Sohn - nun gehörst du auf Ewigkeit mir!!! Trink dich
satt an der Essens meiner Liebe!!!" lallte Sylvia Schneider vollkommen
weggetreten und versuchte ihrerseits selbst mit langer Zunge, einige
Spritzer Muttermilch aus ihren drallen Eutern zu erhaschen. Dieser
göttliche Anblick, sowie der süßliche Geschmack der frischen Liebesmilch
auf seiner Zunge waren nun des Guten zuviel für den tapfer weiter
stoßenden Thomas. Mit einem urzeitlichen Schrei aus tiefster Seele stieß
er seinen wild zuckenden Schwanz noch einmal so tief er konnte in die
brodelnd heiße Fotze, bis deren erfahrenen Muskeln ihn fest umklammerten
und zärtlich auswrangen. Wie aus einer geplatzten Wasserleitung schoss
sein heißer Samen aus der kräftig pumpenden Eichel und füllte mit wenigen
aber umso intensiveren Schüben das begattete Loch dermaßen voll, das der
Saft bereits über die dick geschwollenen Schamlippen wieder nach draußen
quoll. Mit diesem umwerfenden Gefühl des sich ungestüm in sie ergießenden
Jungen und seines wild abpumpenden Liebesknochens in ihrer wund gestoßenen
Grotte war es auch um Sylvia Schneider geschehen. "Oh Gott!!! Es ist so
wunderschön dich tief in mir spritzen zu fühlen!" brachte sie noch gerade
hervor, da überkam sie ihr zweiter Orgasmus wie ein Hammerschlag und nahm
ihr die Luft zum atmen. Heftig keuchend zuckte ihr gesamter Leib dem über
ihr zusammengebrochenen Freund ihres Sohnes ein letztes Mal entgegen, bis
beide schließlich eng umschlungen und leidenschaftlich küssend in das
sämig warme Badewasser zurück glitten.
Nach einer Weile, als beide wieder einigermaßen zu sich gekommen waren,
löste sich als Erste Sylvia Schneider aus der liebevollen Umarmung ihres
jugendlichen Geliebten. Sie stand mit etwas wackeligen Beinen auf, nahm
den Brausekopf aus seiner Halterung und drehte das Duschwasser vorsichtig
auf. Mit dem warmen Wasserstrahl reinigte sie zuerst ihren begehrenswerten
Körper und richtete ihn anschließend auf den noch immer in dem milchigen
Sud liegenden Thomas. "Na steh schon auf, mein Süßer!" versuchte sie ihn
wieder aufzurichten, "Ich mache dich schnell sauber und dann darfst du
dich ein wenig ausruhen." Mit ihren eleganten Händen seifte sie den nun
neben ihr in der Wanne stehenden Jungen ein, dessen halbsteifes Glied
etwas müde an ihm herunterhing. "Leg dich ruhig einen Moment nebenan ins
Bett und entspanne dich. Ich mache mich nur wieder hübsch für dich!"
schnurrte Frau Schneider, als sie ihren Gespielen abgeduscht und mit einem
großen Frotteehandtuch abgetrocknet hatte. Thomas blickte ihr tief in die
Augen und fragte etwas unsicher: "Mit - Mit deinen Brüsten - wie kann das
sein? Bist du etwa schwanger?" Sylvia lächelte ihn verstehend an: "Aber
nein, Gott bewahre! Genau kann ich dir das aber auch nicht erklären. Ich
weiß nur, seit dem ich täglich diese Badekugeln benutze, habe ich diese
verbotenen Gelüste und meine Hormone spielen irgendwie verrückt! Du
glaubst gar nicht wie glücklich ich bin, meine heißen Phantasien jetzt mit
dir ausleben zu können!" Zärtlich nahm sie den gebannt lauschenden Jungen
in die Arme und küsste ihn voller Leidenschaft auf den staunend offen
stehenden Mund. Anschließend geleitete sie ihn in das geschmackvoll
eingerichtete, direkt an das Bad grenzende Schlafzimmer und deutete auf
das riesige, frisch bezogene Bett, mit den Worten: "Leg dich ruhig etwas
hin, ich bin gleich wieder da!" und verschwand in das danebenliegende
Ankleidezimmer. Thomas tat, was Frau Schneider sagte und als er so völlig
nackt und absolut befriedigt in diesem großen weichen Ehebett lag, vielen
ihm nach kurzer Zeit die Augen zu und er schlummerte selig, wie ein Kind
im Schoße der Mutter.
Ein überaus angenehmes, feucht-warmes Gefühl um seinen wieder voll
einsatzbereiten Freudenspender ließ Thomas nach etwa einer Stunde wieder
langsam erwachen. Erst glaubte er noch zu träumen, aber das laute
Schmatzen und zufriedene Grunzen der reifen Frau, die sich gerade sein
hartes Rohr tief in den gierigen Rachen schob, belehrte ihn eines
besseren. Thomas öffnete die Augen und blickte direkt in ihre herb
duftende, ab den Schamlippen sauber rasierte Möse, die keine 10 Zentimeter
vor ihm förmlich darauf wartete, von seiner Zunge durchpflügt zu werden.
Frau Schneider hatte es sich in der 69er-Position auf dem noch schlafenden
Freund ihres Sohnes bequem gemacht und bearbeitete dessen Saftspritze
bereits heftig mit ihrem weichen Lippen und ihrer wendigen Zunge, als
wolle sie ihm neues Leben einhauchen, was ihr ohne Zweifel auch gelang.
Mit einer Hand kraulte sie den etwas schlaff herabhängenden Hodensack, um
die Produktion neuen Nektars zu beschleunigen, mit der anderen griff sie
durch ihre weit gespreizten Beine hindurch, an ihr immer noch nass
glänzendes Mösenloch und führte sich nach kurzem Fingerspiel 2 Finger
gleichzeitig ein. Thomas genoss den Anblick der von den langen rot
lackierten Fingernägeln gefickten Fotze und sah, wie immer mehr weißlicher
Schleim aus dem heiß geliebten Loch quoll. Er ahnte, dass es sein eigener
Samen war, den er vorhin tief in die begehrenswerteste Frau spritzen
durfte, die er kannte und wovon diese nicht einen Tropfen zu verschwenden
gedachte. Immer wieder tauchte sie ihre Langnageligen Finger tief in das
siffende Loch, um sie sogleich wieder herauszuziehen und mit ihrer
nimmersatten Zunge genüsslich abzuschlecken. Trotz ihrer direkt über ihm
knienden Position konnte Thomas dies alles wunderbar beobachten, da direkt
über dem großen Ehebett der Schneiders ein überdimensionaler Spiegel an der
Decke hing, welcher ihm jedes Detail ihres lüsternen Treibens reflektierte.
In diesem Spiegel sah Thomas auch, wie sich Frau Schneider, während er
geschlafen hatte, für ihn zurechtgemacht hatte: Ihre wohlgeformten,
milchstrotzenden Brüste wurden von einem schneeweißen Stütz-BH perfekt
eingerahmt, während ihre langen, schlanken Beine in weißen Nylonstrümpfen
steckten, die von einem Rüschen verzierten Hüftgürtel mit ebensolchen
Strapsen gehalten wurden. An den eleganten Füßen trug sie extrem
hochhackige, weiße Riemchenpumps, die im Moment links und rechts neben
Thomas Kopf ruhten und überaus dekadent und sexy wirkten. Als Sylvia
seinen wieder belebten Lustspender erneut tief in ihren nimmersatten
Rachen gleiten ließ und zudem mit der freien Hand seine Klöten sanft wog,
stöhnte Thomas unweigerlich laut auf und sie registrierte erfreut, das ihr
junger Gespiele aus seinem Dämmerschlaf erwacht war. Langsam ließ sie
seinen stolzen Riemen wieder aus ihrem Schlund gleiten, leckte noch einige
Male über die noch unbehaarten Eier und richtete ihren Oberkörper dann auf.
Durch diesen leichten Positionswechsel war ihr bereits gestern von Thomas
noch unerfahrenem Glied durchpflügtes Arschloch direkt vor seinem Mund und
dieser ließ, wie von selbst, seine lange Zunge zärtlich um den rosigen,
leicht faltigen Kranz ihres Hintereinganges kreisen, um sich so für die
erfahrenen Wonnen zu bedanken. Nun war es Sylvia Schneider, die ebenfalls
laut stöhnend die Bemühungen um ihr Hinterteil guthieß und aus ihrer
triefenden Möse floss ihr das Saft- und Samengebräu zähflüssig über die
stakkatoartig weiterfickenden Finger. "Oh ja - Du geile Sau!!!" rief sie
laut, "Leck mir mein heißes Arschloch - Ich bin schon gleich wieder
soweit!!!" Abermals verkrampfte sich ihr Luxuskörper zuckend und mit einem
schmatzend Blubbern ergoss sich der verbliebene Rest an Sperma und ihr
duftender Orgasmussaft in Thomas hochrotem Gesicht. Dieser trank den Saft
aus ihrem Innersten mit gierigen Schlucken und leckte immer wieder dankbar
durch die absaimende Furche, über den kurzen Damm und dass darüber
trohnende Poloch.
Nach einer ihm eine kleine Ewigkeit erschienenen Weile krabbelte Frau
Schneider auf allen vieren an die Bettkante, so dass Thomas sich
aufrichten konnte und ihr lockendes Hinterteil, welches sie provozierend
emporhob, direkt vor sich hatte. Mit gespreizten Fingern griff Sylvia
zwischen ihren weit geöffneten Oberschenkeln hindurch und schnurrte
lockend: "Komm zu mir mein Sohn. Ich will dich so tief in mir spüren, wie
es nur geht! Sei lieb und fick mich in den Arsch!!!" Eilig kniete er sich
hinter die Mutter seines Freundes und setzte die Spitze seines
speichelnassen Rohres an dem von ihren langen Fingernägeln weit gedehnten
Darmausgang an, um mit einer leichten Vorwärtsbewegung seines Beckens den
entspannten Schließmuskel mit seiner dunkelblau leuchtenden Eichel zu
durchdringen und langsam, aber ohne inne zu halten, tiefer und tiefer in
das Loch seiner Träume einzufahren. Wie ein weidwundes Tier schrie Sylvia
Schneider lustvoll auf, als der glühendheiße Liebesknochen des Jungen
ihren Rektalkanal durchbohrte. "AAAAHHHH!!!! - Du spaltest mich ja mit
deinem Fickprügel!! Gib ihn mir ganz und mach es mir, wie nur ein Sohn es
seiner Mutter besorgen kann!!!" Hysterisch schrie sie diese Worte heraus
und spreizte mit beiden Händen ihre prallen Arschbacken fast zum zerreißen
auseinander. Thomas hieb ihr seinen Dampfhammer mit wachsender Intensität
in den Darm und da er heute bereits zweimal seinen Samen in ihr entladen
hatte, konnte er jeden einzelnen Stoß vollends genießen, ohne gleich Angst
um einen vorzeitigen Erguss haben zu müssen. Vor ihm wand sich die Frau,
die ihn zu ihrem willenlosen Sexspielzeug gemacht hatte, ekstatisch hin
und her und wie, um eine wilde Stute zu zähmen, ergriff Thomas von hinten
mit beiden Händen ihre vollreifen, schweren Brüste und zog ihren zuckenden
Oberkörper mit seinen muskulösen Armen zu sich hoch. Sylvia Schneider war
nun endgültig nicht mehr Herrin ihrer Sinne, sonder nur noch von dem
einzigen Gedanken beseelt, sich diesem ungestüm Arschfickenden Junghengst
bedingungslos hinzugeben um sich Abschließend abermals an seiner
jugendlichen Liebesmilch zu laben. "Oh mein Gott!!! Du bist so ein
teuflisch geiler Ficker - mein Sohn!!!" waren die letzten verständlichen
Worte die sie inbrünstig hervorstieß, bevor sie zwischen hysterischem
Kreischen und kindlichem Wimmern, der Ohnmacht nahe, aber restlos
befriedigt zusammensackte und bäuchlings in die Satinlaken glitt.
Erst nach einigen Minuten, als die Wellen ihres analen Orgasmus sich
langsam gelegt hatten, nahm Frau Schneider wieder bewusst war, dass die
stocksteife Latte ihres jungen Begatters noch immer, wie ein
heißgelaufener Bohrhammer, tief in ihrem ausladenden Hinterteil steckte
und sich glücklicherweise noch nicht wieder in sie ergossen hatte. Denn
zum krönenden Abschluss ihres heutigen Rollenspiels mit dem Freund ihres
Sohnes hatte sie sich etwas ganz Besonderes ausgedacht. Sie blickte auf
die Anzeige des Radioweckers auf ihrem Nachtisch und es war fasst halb
Zehn, in einer guten halben Stunde würden ihr Mann und ihr Sohn vom
Bowling zurück sein, doch bis dahin musste sie dem erschöpften Jungen, der
schwer atmend auf ihrem Rücken lag, noch ein letztes Mal den nahrhaften
Samen entlocken. Zärtlich streichelte sie ihm mit einer Hand durch das
Haar, während sie mit der anderen liebevoll nach dem langsam aus ihr
gleitenden, pochenden Glied tastete und es sanft mit ihren geschickten
Fingern umschloss. "Oh mein Liebling! Du hasst mich gestoßen wie ein
junger Gott!" sagte sie mit vibrierender Stimme, "Jetzt leg dich auf den
Rücken - ich habe noch etwas für dich!" Müde, aber voller Erwartung
dessen, was diese megageile Luxusschlampe sich noch für Perversitäten für
ihn ausgedacht hatte, rollte sich Thomas auf dem Rücken und streckte alle
Fünfe von sich. Sylvia Schneider hockte sich auf seine Oberschenkel und
massierte ihrem Geliebten mit einer Hand sanft das mächtige Rohr und den
faltigen Sack, während die andere mit den langen Fingernägeln ihre
dunkelrot geschwollenen Brustwarzen reizte. Es dauerte nicht lange und es
bildeten sich wieder kleine Tröpfchen warmer Muttermilch auf ihren
Hocherhegten Knospen, die bleistiftdick von ihren Tittenbergen abstanden.
Langsam, fasst wie in Zeitlupe, verrieb sie die ständig wachsenden Tropfen
mit den Fingerkuppen auf den harten Warzen, so dass diese bald feucht
glänzten und Thomas konnte es nicht erwarten, an ihnen zu saugen. Als er
sich jedoch etwas aufrichten wollte und mit dem Mund nach einer Zitze
schnappte, stieß Frau Schneider ihn sanft zurück und sagte: "Nein, nicht
so mein Liebling! Mutti wird dich jetzt auf ihre besondere Art füttern!"
Daraufhin beugte sie sich leicht nach vorn und hielt einen milchig
glänzenden Nippel direkt an die Spitze von Thomas tiefblau pulsierender
Eichel. Dann nahm sie die andere Hand, welche bis jetzt den adrigen Schaft
der stolzen Lanze gewichst hatte, zu Hilfe, und führte von oben den langen
Nagel ihres Zeigefingers ein paar Millimeter in seine Harnröhre ein.
Thomas zuckte merklich zusammen, doch mit geschürzten Lippen beruhigte
Sylvia ihr wehrlos daliegendes Opfer und schnurrte: "Schschschsch! Es wird
gleich besser - dann wird mein Kleiner die Engelein singen hören!" Nun
drehte sie den Fingernagel in der Harnröhre langsam etwas, so dass die
zuvor schlitzförmige Öffnung jetzt fasst rund war und in diese drückte sie
gefühlvoll den steifen, glänzenden Nippel ihrer linken Brustwarze, bis
dieser ca. 1 Zentimeter tief in Thomas Schwanzspitze steckte. Allein
dieser Anblick ließ Thomas fasst den Verstand verlieren - aber es sollte
noch besser kommen: Mit einer Hand hielt Frau Schneider den knochigen
Ständer in Position und mit der anderen begann sie, ihre prall gefüllte,
linke Titte zu kneten und zu melken, so dass die warme Muttermilch aus
ihrem tief in seiner Nille steckenden Nippel langsam die empfindsame
Harnröhre hinunterfloss. Was Thomas, der dies alles nur ungläubig staunend
und fasziniert zugleich beobachtete, dabei empfand, lässt sich mit Worten
kaum beschreiben. Er fühlte deutlich, wie diese Mutter aller Luder die
warme Milch aus ihren reifen, vollen Brüsten gefühlvoll in seinen Schwanz
pumpte und diese langsam in seinem stocksteifen Rohr hinunterfloss. "Ist
das nicht wunderschön, wie fein die Mutti ihr Baby füttern kann?" fragte
Sylvia im totalen Lustrausch und begann dieselbe Prozedur nach einer Weile
auch mit ihrer anderen Brust, bis sie auch diese komplett ab gemolken
hatte. Als sie den steifen Nippel aus der engen Harnröhrenöffnung zog,
quoll sogleich ein dicker Schwall milchig weißer Tittensahne mit heraus
und lief langsam an dem zartrosa glänzendem Glied herunter. Thomas
glaubte, sein malträtierter Schwanz müsste jeden Moment platzen, da durch
den bis zum Rand mit warmer Muttermilch gefüllten Stamm von weit unten nun
die Samenfäden einschossen und nicht entweichen konnten. Winselnd, wie ein
kleines Baby, bettelte er Frau Schneider darum an, ihn endlich zu erlösen
und nach ihm endlos erscheinenden Sekunden der totalen Ekstase, gewährte
sie ihm diese. Mit beiden Händen und zarten, aber kräftigen
Wichsbewegungen an seinem heftig zuckenden Rohr pumpte sie den zuvor
eingefüllten Körpersaft wieder hinaus und die lauwarme Milch lief ihr
dickflüssig über die beringten Finger und die feuerrot lackierten langen
Nägel. Die dadurch in seinem Innersten verursachte, leichte Entspannung
ließ Thomas tief aufseufzen, doch der Anblick und das unbeschreibliche
Gefühl der wundervollen, von weißlicher Muttermilch besudelten Hände, die
behutsam an seinem Schaft auf und nieder glitten, waren nun endgültig zu
viel für ihn. Natürlich spürte Sylvia Schneider sofort, dass der Junge
seinem Finalen Abschuss für heute nicht mehr entrinnen konnte und stöhnte
befriedigt: "Trink Du mich - und ich trinke Dich!" Dabei hielt sie ihm
ihre Milchverschmierten Hände vor den Mund und während ihr Thomas das
köstliche Nass von den Fingern leckte, stülpte sie ihre grellrot
geschminkten und schwarz umrandeten, vollen Lippen über seine
explodierende dunkelblaue Eichel. Thomas ergriff reflexartig ihren
Hinterkopf mit beiden Händen und während er wie ein kleines Kind an ihren
langnageligen Fingern lutschte, presste er ihren Mund mit aller
verbliebener Kraft auf seinen ungestüm abspritzenden Schwanz. Heiß und
dickflüssig schoss der Samen tief in Sylvias Kehle und obwohl es in nur
kurzer Zeit sein dritter Erguss war, entlockte sie ihm noch eine
beachtliche Portion, von der sie keinen Tropfen vergeudete und alles
dankbar in sich aufsog.
Als Thomas sich restlos ausgespritzt und die beschmierten Hände seiner
Traumfrau artig mit Zunge und Lippen gereinigt hatte, kroch diese zu ihm
hoch und erschöpft aber glücklich küssten sie sich leidenschaftlich und
schmeckten so voneinander die eigenen Säfte ihrer Leidenschaft. Nach einer
Weile löste Sylvia Schneider ihre vollen Lippen von denen ihres
Wunschsohnes und sagte: "Es wird Zeit - Du musst jetzt gehen. Tim und mein
Mann sind bald zurück!" Thomas blickte auf die Uhr: 21:50! Er sprang aus
dem Bett und wollte gerade in Richtung Terrasse eilen, wo seine Klamotten
noch verstreut herumlagen - da drehte er sich nochmals um, stellte sich
vor die im Ehebett liegende Mutter seines Freundes und sagte: "Ich - Ich
liebe Dich - Mutti!" Überglücklich lächelte Frau Schneider ihn an, gab
seinem mittlerweile erschlafften Lustspender noch einen dicken
Abschiedskuss und sagte dann mit gespielter Strenge: "Verschwinde jetzt
schnell - hör was deine Mutter dir sagt!"
TO BE CONTINUED?
---------------------------------------------------- - --- -
seVac - erotische Geschichten im Netz!
http://www.seVac.com
-
Die Mutter des Freundes 3 (Der Urlaub)
-=Die Mutter des Freundes 3 (Der Urlaub)=-
AutorIn: molicker
eMail: Der Autor kann nur via Web-Formular auf sevac.com kontaktiert werden!
Datum: 11.2004
Quelle: Autor
---------------------------------------------------- - --- -
Die Mutter des Freundes 3 (Der Urlaub)
Nachdem Thomas nach seinem letzten Besuch im Hause Schneider fasst eine
ganze Woche weder einen Anruf, noch eine SMS von Sylvia, der Mutter seines
besten Freundes Tim, erhalten hatte, war er vor Sehnsucht und ungestillter
Geilheit kurz davor, den Verstand zu verlieren. Natürlich hielt er sich an
sein Versprechen, sein inzwischen fasst Dauererigiertes Glied nicht selbst
zu befriedigen, doch viel ihm dies von Tag zu Tag schwerer, denn da er
nahezu rund um die Uhr an die wohl hemmungsloseste und attraktivste Frau,
die er sich vorstellen konnte, denken musste, war diese Zeit für ihn die
reinste Folter. Seinem Freund Tim ging er in diesen Tagen so oft es ging
aus dem Weg, da er ihm gegenüber aufgrund der Geschehnisse des letzten
Wochenendes irgendwie ein schlechtes Gewissen hatte. Doch als er an diesem
Freitag, welcher der letzte Schultag vor den Sommerferien war, von der
Schule nach Hause kam, wusste er noch nicht, dass er diese Ferien sein
Leben lang nie würde vergessen können.
Als Thomas in die Küche kam, um zu sehen, was seine Mutter für ihn zu
Mittag gekocht hatte, empfing diese ihn mit den Worten: „Hallo Tommy, es
gibt erst heute Abend warm, da wir Gäste haben. Ich habe heute Morgen Frau
Schneider in der Stadt getroffen und sie zusammen mit ihrem Mann und Tim
zum Abendessen eingeladen! Freust du dich?" Thomas war sprachlos und wurde
sofort puterrot vor Aufregung. „Was hasst du denn?" fragte seine Mutter
etwas verwirrt, „Du warst doch auch schon so oft bei den Schneiders und
ich dachte, es wird höchste Zeit, dass wir uns mal revanchieren. Außerdem
glaube ich, dass sie mit dir etwas besprechen wollen. Aber mehr darf ich
noch nicht verraten!" „Schön - ich freu mich", murmelte Thomas verlegen
und verschwand schnurstracks auf sein Zimmer. Dort warf er sich auf sein
Bett und grübelte darüber nach, was Sylvia Schneider wohl damit bezwecken
wollte, ihn zu Hause bei seinen Eltern, zusammen mit ihrem Mann und Sohn
zu besuchen. Einerseits konnte er es nicht erwarten, sie endlich wieder zu
sehen, andererseits würde dieser Besuch wohl die peinlichste Situation
ergeben, die er sich vorstellen konnte. Doch so oft er auch hin und her
überlegte, er kam zu keinem Ergebnis und verbrachte die Zeit bis zum
Abend, um sich einigermaßen abzulenken, schließlich an seiner
Playstation.
Um kurz nach 19:00 Uhr klingelte es an der Haustür und Thomas hörte, wie
seine Eltern die erwarteten Gäste begrüßten und herein baten. Kurz darauf
kam sein Freund Tim in sein Zimmer und die beiden begrüßten sich herzlich.
Thomas versuchte Tim gegenüber so normal wie immer zu sein und sich seine
Verunsicherung nicht anmerken zu lassen. Die zwei spielten noch eine Weile
gemeinsam Thomas Spiel zu Ende, bis seine Mutter sie zum Essen rief. Als
die beiden Jungs die Treppe herunter kamen, saßen ihre Väter bereits im
Esszimmer und unterhielten sich, während ihre Mütter noch in der Küche
hantierten. „Da seid ihr ja endlich!" bemerkte sein Vater und fuhr, an
Tims Vater gewand, fort: „Also, wenn die beiden vor ihrer Spielbox hocken,
hören und sehen sie nichts anderes mehr!" „Das stimmt!" pflichtete ihm der
Vater von Tim bei, „Wir wussten uns früher wenigstens noch sinnvoll zu
beschäftigen!" „Ja genau, du Fettsack", dachte Thomas, „und am liebsten
würde ich mich jetzt mit deiner Frau beschäftigen!" Er hasste es, wenn
sein Vater ihn mit Geschichten von Früher, wo ja sowieso immer alles viel
besser war, langweilte. Doch als Frau Schneider plötzlich den Raum betrat
und geradewegs auf ihn zusteuerte, war sein Ärger über die „Alten Herren"
schnell verflogen, denn allein der Anblick von Tims Mutter reichte aus, um
Thomas Blut in Wallung zu versetzen und das ‚arbeitslose Glied in seiner
Hose versteifte sich umgehend. Sie trug einen eng anliegenden, etwa
knielangen weißen Lederrock und darüber ein ebenso enges, wie weißes,
armfreies Oberteil mit einem kleinen Rollkragen. Um ihre endlos langen
Beine schmiegten sich schneeweiße Nylonstrümpfe und ihre schlanken Füße
steckten in wahrscheinlich sündhaft teuren, grell weißen Lack-Stilettos,
deren Absätze mindestens 10 cm lang waren. Auf ihnen stolzierte sie
lächelnd auf Thomas zu und reichte ihm zur Begrüßung die perfekt manikürte
Hand. „Hallo Thomas!" begrüßte sie den Freund ihres Sohnes freudig, „Wir
haben uns ja lange nicht gesehen! Wie geht es dir?" Sie griff mit beiden
Händen nach Thomas rechter Hand und drückte diese sanft aber intensiv.
„D-Danke gut, Frau Schneider!" stotterte Thomas eilig und konnte seinen
Blick nicht von ihrem auffällig geschminkten, makellosem Gesicht wenden.
Ihre Blicke trafen sich und Thomas meinte, in ihren Augen das selbe
Funkeln zu entdecken, mit dem sie sich am vergangenen Wochenende wieder
und wieder über seinen, ihr hoffnungslos verfallenen Lustprügel hergemacht
hatte. Sie hatte wieder mal reichlich Goldschmuck aufgeleckt, so trug sie
z.B. extragroße, kreisrunde Ohrringe, über dem Rollkragenoberteil ein
auffälliges Perlenkollier, sowie an jedem ihrer Langnageligen Finger
mindestens einen Diamantenring und dazu passende Armreifen. Ihr
platinblondes Haar hatte sie mit viel Haarspray und -lack glatt
zurückgekämmt, was ihrem Aussehen eine leichte Stränge verlieh. Insgesamt
war sie genau so, wie Thomas sie in Erinnerung hatte: Das absolut
begehrenswerteste Weib, was er sich vorstellen konnte.
„Es ist so schön, dass wir uns endlich mal kennen lernen, wo unsere Jungs
sich doch so gut verstehen!" flötete Thomas Mutter, die gerade mit dem
Braten aus der Küche kam und diesen auf den Esstisch stellte. Tim und
Thomas holten noch die Beilagen und schließlich saßen alle, an dem für 6
Personen etwas engen, Tisch und aßen. „Du hasst mir ja noch gar nicht
erzählt, dass deine Mutter so fantastisch kochen kann, Thomas!" brach
Sylvia Schneider das Schweigen und lächelte die Mutter ihres
Fantasie-Sohnes freundlich an. „Oh danke, Frau Schneider!" erwiderte
diese, „So viel Lob bin ich von meinen Männern gar nicht gewohnt." Thomas
brachte vor Aufregung fasst keinen Bissen herunter und fragte sich
unentwegt, was wohl im Kopf von Tims Mutter vorging. Wollte sie ihn vor
seiner und ihrer Familie leiden sehen oder erregte sie diese Situation
etwa? Er konnte sich keinen Reim auf das ganze machen und sagte während
des ganzen Essens über kaum ein Wort. Nachdem sie ihr Mahl beendet hatten,
war es wieder Frau Schneider, die sich zu Wort meldete und mit einem
Weinglas zwischen ihren schönen Fingern sprach: „So, jetzt wird es aber
höchste Zeit, die jungen Herren nicht weiter auf die Folter zu spannen -
oder was meinen sie?" Thomas Eltern nickten ihr beipflichtend zu und
Sylvia fuhr fort: „Also, Ihr Lieben. Stefan und ich haben uns überlegt, ob
Thomas nicht Lust hätte, uns in diesen Urlaub in unser neues Ferienhaus auf
Mallorca zu begleiten! Das Haus ist groß genug und Tim hätte jemanden, mit
dem er was unternehmen könnte. Sein Vater fährt mit ihm zwar regelmäßig
früh zum Angeln aufs Meer, aber an den Nachmittagen hätte er doch sicher
Langeweile und mit dir", dabei legte sie dem neben ihr sitzenden Thomas,
für die anderen nicht sichtbar, die rechte Hand auf den Oberschenkel,
„würde es sicher ein noch schönerer Urlaub werden!" Das sie dabei in
erster Linie an sich selbst und nicht an ihren Sohn dachte, ahnte in
diesem Moment nur Thomas, dessen inzwischen hammerharter Schwanz
schmerzhaft gegen den Stoff seiner Jeanshose drückte und sich Sylvias
sanft streichelnder Hand entgegenreckte.
„Mann - super!" jubelte Tim erfreut, „Das wird der absolute Hammer!" Auch
Thomas freute sich und lächelte Sylvia Schneider viel sagend an: „Oh,
vielen Dank, Frau Schneider! Ich komme natürlich gern mit nach Mallorca,
das heißt, wenn ich darf!" Fragend blickte er seine Eltern an und seine
Mutter erwiderte: „Natürlich darfst du, mein Junge. Wir wissen dich doch
bei den Schneiders in guten Händen!" Gott sei Dank ahnte sie nicht, wie
Recht sie damit hatte. „Darauf trinken wir!" sprach Tims Vater und alle
stießen auf einen gelungenen Urlaub an. Als Thomas mit seinem Weinglas
Frau Schneider zuprostete, meinte er, ein geheimnisvolles Funkeln in ihren
tiefblauen Augen zu sehen und als sich ihre Blicke trafen, leckte sie sich
kurz mit der Zungenspitze über ihre sinnlichen Lippen. Der Bolzen in
seiner Hose versteifte sich sofort zu einem, vor Geilheit schmerzenden
Kolben, der Thomas den blanken Schweiß auf die Stirn trieb. Als sich alle
wieder setzten, blieb er stehen und sagte schnell: „Ich verschwinde mal
kurz auf die Toilette!" und war schon aus dem Raum. „Aber du solltest doch
mit mir den Nachtisch verteilen!" rief ihm seine Mutter noch hinterher,
aber da war Thomas schon die Treppe hinaufgeeilt. „Das macht doch nichts,
Tim hilft ihnen sicher gern mit dem Nachtisch!" flötete Sylvia Schneider
freundlich und deutete ihrem Sohn, Thomas Mutter in die Küche zu folgen.
Dieser verzog zwar etwas das Gesicht, aber gehorchte widerstandslos und
war alsbald mit Sahneschlagen beschäftigt. Als Sylvia zufrieden
feststellte, das die beiden Männer sich mit 2 dicken Zigarren in der
Couchecke niedergelassen hatten und so jeder im Moment mit irgend etwas
beschäftigt war, erkannte sie ihre Chance und eilte mit den Worten: „Ich
pudere mir eben mal die Nase!" die Treppen herauf ins Obergeschoss, wo sie
die Schlafräume und das Badezimmer vermutete. Gleich vor der ersten Tür
blieb sie stehen und drückte leise die Klinge. Die Tür war nicht
verschlossen und als sie Thomas vor dem Waschbecken stehen sah, trat sie
rasch ein und verschloss die Tür von innen.
Der beste Freund ihres Sohnes stand dort mit heruntergelassenen Hosen vor
dem Waschbecken und versuchte verzweifelt, sein prall geschwollenes Glied
wieder abschwellen zu lassen, indem er es unter den Wasserhahn hielt, aus
welchem scheinbar eiskaltes Wasser sprudelte. Doch seine Erregung schien
einfach zu stark zu sein, so dass sich der gewünschte Erfolg nicht
einstellte und der stocksteife Penis nass tropfend im rechten Winkel von
seinem jugendlich muskulösen Körper abstand. Sylvia ging mit leisen
Schritten auf ihn zu und der Umstand, dass er sie noch nicht bemerkt
hatte, steigerte ihre Erregung noch weiter. Mit einer raschen Bewegung
schälte sie ihre vollreifen Brüste es dem engen, baumwollenen Oberteil und
als sie die dicken, dunkelrosa hervorgetretenen Nippel zwischen ihren roten
Nägeln zwirbelte, floss sogleich die lauwarme Muttermilch heraus und
sammelte sich in ihren Handflächen. Als sie direkt hinter dem immer noch
ahnungslosen Thomas stand, griff ihre linke Hand wie automatisch an dessen
Hinterteil und ihre langen Finger streichelten sanft über die nackte
Pohaut. Thomas erschrak fast zu Tode, doch die erfahrene Mutter seines
Freundes hielt ihm sofort ihre Milch verschmierte linke Hand vor den Mund
und flüsterte ihm mit kehliger Stimme ins Ohr: „Aber nicht doch, mein
Liebling! Jetzt ist Mutti ja bei dir und alles wird gut!" Dabei drehte sie
den perplexen Jungen zu sich um und ihre rechte Hand ertastete sofort den
knüppelharten Riemen, der zwischen ihren eleganten Fingern noch an Härte
und Größe zuzunehmen schien. „Oh ja, Mutti!" stöhnte Thomas dankbar auf,
„Ich hab dich so sehr vermisst, dass es schon weh tat!" „Ich weiß, mein
Junge. Ich dich doch auch! Aber bald ist es so weit und wir werden uns
jeden Tag lieben können!" antwortete Sylvia heiser und presste dem
16jährigen Schüler ihre vollem Lippen auf den Mund. Ihre Zungen rangen
einen wilden Kampf in ihren Mündern, während Frau Schneider den geliebten
Hengstschwanz ihres Wunschsohnes mit der rechten Hand gefühlvoll
bearbeitete. Auch Thomas Hände gingen auf Wanderschaft und erkundeten den
schlanken, fraulichen Körper Sylvias, bis sie an ihren großen, festen
Brüsten zitternd verharrten, um diese voller Leidenschaft zu kneten und
sie zärtlich zu massieren. „Sie haben so lange auf dich gewartet, mein
Sohn", schnurrte Sylvia und streckte ihre atemberaubende Oberweite noch
ein wenig nach vorn, „saug sie aus! Ich habe alles für dich aufgespart!"
Sanft drückte sie Thomas Kopf in Richtung ihrer weit hervorgetretenen
Zitzen und als dieser seine Lippen um die harten Nippel schloss, floss der
warme Strahl ihrer Tittensahne wie von selbst seine begierig schluckende
Kehle hinunter. Sylvia Schneider genoss die entspannende Säugung ihres
jungen Geliebten hörbar seufzend und raffte sogleich ihren knielangen Rock
empor, um mittels ihrer geschickten, Langnageligen Hände auch zwischen
ihren schlanken Beinen für Entspannung zu sorgen. Hierfür musste sie
allerdings den begehrten, heiß pochenden Lustdolch aus ihrer zarten
Umklammerung entlassen, so dass dessen geschwollene Eichel nun, von der
eigenen Vorschmiere glänzend, gegen den kalten Stoff ihres Lederrockes
drückte. Es dauerte kaum länger als eine Minute, bis ihre unbändige Lust
den Gipfel erklommen hatte und sie sich, mit zusammengepressten Lippen
ihrem Orgasmus ergab. „Mmmmmmmmhhh!!!" stöhnte sie unterdrückt hervor,
während 2 Finger der linken Hand tief in ihre übersensible Möse fickten
und der Mittelfinger der rechten Hand weit in ihrem ausladenden Hinterteil
steckte. Thomas lutschte und saugte unterdessen unablässig an den prallen,
wohlgeformten Brüsten und lies erst wieder von ihnen ab, als der Quell
ihrer nahrhaften Muttermilch vorerst versiegt war. Als Sylvias
Blitzorgasmus langsam abgeklungen war, nahm sie Thomas Gesicht dankbar
lächelnd zwischen ihre wertvoll beringten Hände und küsste ihn mit
sinnlicher Hingabe, wobei sie den Geschmack ihrer eigenen Tittensahne in
seinem Mund kosten konnte.
„Wir müssen uns beeilen! Gib Mutti jetzt deinen Liebesaft! Ich habe mich
so danach gesehnt!!" hauchte Sylvia Schneider heiser, als sich ihre Lippen
von seinen endlich gelöst hatten. Ihre, von ihrem Mösenschleim tropfnassen
Fingern strichen bereits wieder lustvoll über Thomas dick adriges Rohr
und den prallvollen Sack, was der Junge mit einem dankbaren Stöhnen
quittierte.
Sylvia dirigierte den besten Freund ihres Sohnes hinüber zur Badewanne und
zog ihm dort die Hose samt Shorts hinunter, bis über die allmählich
nachgebenden Knie. „Setz dich auf den Rand, mein Liebling! Mami möchte,
dass du ihr deinen heißen Saft in den Mund spritzt!" Thomas wurde
schwindelig bei ihren Worten und kaum hatte er sich auf dem kalten
Wannenrand niedergelassen, stülpte Sylvia ihre sinnlichen, rot
geschminkten Lippen über seine pochende, violett glänzende Eichel. Mit
einer Hand liebkoste sie lockend die empfindlichen Hoden, während die
andere den Schleim ihrer befriedigten Möse gefühlvoll in die zum zerreißen
gespannte Schwanzhaut einmassierte. Während Frau Schneider ihre fordernde
Zunge um die aalglatte Schwanzkrone kreisen lies, hielt sie genussvoll
ihre betörenden Augen geschlossen, doch als sie sie öffnete, um im Gesicht
ihres jungen ‚Opfers den Grad seiner Erregung abzulesen, war es bereits um
ihn geschehen. Gallertartig quoll der heiße Nektar seiner Manneskraft aus
der kräftig zuckenden Schwanzspitze und ergoss sich in ihrem nimmersatten
Mund. Mit tiefen, kräftigen Schlucken verleibte sich Sylvia jeden Tropfen
des aromatischen Sudes ein und entließ das pumpende Glied erst wieder aus
der festen Umklammerung ihrer wulstigen Lippen, als keine weiteren Schübe
des unvergleichlichen Samens mehr folgten. „Danke!" flüsterte sie nur und
während ihre gepflegten Hände noch weiter an Thomas entleerten Genitalien
hantierten, trafen sich die Lippen des 16jährigen Jungen und der reifen
Frau zu einem innigen Abschiedskuss.
„Du musst jetzt wieder runter gehen, sonst merken die noch was!" sagte
Sylvia Schneider schließlich schweren Herzens und als sie sich erhob, zog
auch Thomas seine Hose hoch und verstaute sein inzwischen halbsteifes
Glied wieder in seinen Shorts. Sie selbst griff nach ihrer Handtasche und
legte sich ihre Schminkutensilien vor dem großen Badspiegel zurecht. „Geh
du schon mal hinunter - ich muss hier noch einiges in Ordnung bringen!"
lächelte ihr Spiegelbild Thomas an und er sah, wie sie sich mit der
Zungenspitze die Reste seines Spermas aus den Mundwinkeln leckte. Thomas
horchte kurz an der Tür und als er meinte, dass die Luft rein sei, öffnete
er sie eilig und ging hastig die Treppe hinunter. In der Küche waren seine
Mutter und Tim gerade mit der Zubereitung der Nachspeise fertig und als
sie ihn sah, fragte seine Mutter: „Da bist du ja wieder! Geht es dir jetzt
besser?" „Ja danke", antwortete Thomas und konnte sich ein Lächeln nicht
verkneifen. Als nach einigen Minuten auch Frau Schneider perfekt gestylt
wieder das Esszimmer betrat, ließ auch sie sich durch nichts anmerken, was
vorhin im Badezimmer geschehen war. Erst als sie sich nach einer Weile
verabschiedeten flüsterte sie Thomas in einem unbeobachteten Moment leise
zu: „Ich habe noch immer deinen Geschmack auf der Zunge, mein großer
Junge!" und zärtlich hauchte sie ihm einen letzten Abschiedskuss auf die
Wange.
3 Tage später war es dann endlich so weit. Die Familie Schneider kam wie
abgesprochen vorgefahren um Thomas abzuholen und gemeinsam fuhren sie in
dem großen Mercedes von Herrn Schneider zum Flughafen. Thomas musste
seinen Eltern noch zig Mal versprechen, keinen Unsinn anzustellen und Frau
und Herrn Schneider unbedingt zu gehorchen. Was Frau Schneider anging,
hatte er natürlich keine Probleme damit und versprach, ein artiger Junge
zu sein. Nach einem problemlosen, ca. zweistündigen Flug landeten sie
schließlich auf dem Flughafen von Mallorca, von wo sie mit einem großen VW
Touareg zum neuen Ferienhaus der Schneiders aufbrachen. Dieses lag an einem
Steilhang, in einer ansonsten Menschenleeren, wunderschönen Bucht, in
welche ein Bootssteg führte, wo eine etwa 10 Meter lange Motoryacht vor
Anker lag. Als Thomas das Ferienhaus sah, welches für die nächsten 2
Wochen sein Zuhause sein sollte, blieb ihm vor Begeisterung der Mund offen
stehen. Diese Villa war etwa doppelt so groß wie sein Elternhaus, hatte
insgesamt 4 große Schlafzimmer und 3 Bäder, eines luxuriöser als das
andere und einen großen Wohnteil mit angrenzender Wohnküche. Die Fußböden
und Wände waren mit teuerstem Granit und Marmor ausgelegt und große
Fensterfronten erhellten die Räume mit warmem Sonnenlicht. Draußen, neben
der riesigen Terrasse, lud ein übergroßer nierenförmiger Pool mit einer
schattigen Poolbar zum relaxen ein. „Das - das gehört alles ihnen?" fragte
Thomas Herrn Schneider ungläubig. Er wusste zwar, das Stefan Schneider ein
sehr erfolgreicher Geschäftsmann war, mit glänzenden Kontakten im In- und
Ausland, aber solch eine Prachtvilla hatte er ihm nicht zugetraut. „Da
staunst du was!" antwortete dieser, „Ich habe vor einiger Zeit an der
Börse den richtigen Riecher gehabt und da haben wir uns diesen Traum hier
geleistet. Ist doch besser, als alles dem Finanzamt zu schenken - oder?"
„Auf jeden Fall!" stimmte Thomas ihm zu und eilte hinter seinem Freund Tim
her, der bereits seine Sachen in sein Zimmer brachte. „Pack ruhig erstmal
aus. Ich zeige dir nachher alles!" rief ihm Tims Mutter noch zu und für
die nächste halbe Stunde waren alle erstmal damit beschäftigt, sich in
ihren Schlafräumen einzurichten.
In Thomas Zimmer mangelte es ebenso, wie in den anderen Räumen an nichts:
Fernseher, DVD, Stereoanlage - alles was man mit 16 Jahren so brauchte,
war vorhanden und Thomas betrat, nachdem er seine Sachen eingeräumt hatte
erstmal den rund um das Obergeschoss laufenden Balkon und genoss die
grandiose Aussicht auf das tiefblaue Meer. Plötzlich hörte er das laute
Klacken von hohen Absätzen auf dem steinernen Balkonboden und sah in die
Richtung, aus der die Schritte sich näherten. Natürlich war es Frau
Schneider, die ihr Schlafzimmer direkt neben seinem bezogen hatte und ihn
nun verträumt anlächelte. Sie trug ein nahezu durchsichtiges, Beiges
Sommerkleid, unter dem ihre prallen Rundungen, die von einem knappen
Tangabikini kaum bedeckt wurden, fabelhaft zur Geltung kamen. Passend zu
dem Kleid stolzierte sie auf ultrahohen, goldenen Riemchenpumps und ihr
platinblondes Haar wurde von einem samtig glänzenden, schwarzen Haarband
im Zaum gehalten. „Na Thomas, gefällt es dir hier?" fragte sie mit einem
Augenaufschlag, der einen Eisblock zum Schmelzen gebracht hätte. „Einsame
Spitze!" antwortete Thomas knapp, der sich nicht ganz sicher war, wie er
sich Tims Mutter gegenüber verhalten sollte. „Ja das stimmt, das Haus ist
ein Traum," entgegnete Sylvia lächelnd, „und wir werden hier sicher viel
Spaß zusammen haben!" dabei legte sie ihm eine Hand zart auf den Unterarm
und kraulte mit ihren Nägeln sanft über die Haut. „Wenn sie dich nachher
fragen, ob du morgen früh mit zum Angeln rausfahren willst, sagst du, dass
du leider so schnell Seekrank wirst und stattdessen lieber im Fitnessraum
trainieren willst. Hast du mich verstanden?" flüsterte sie Thomas zu und
krallte ihre Nägel zur Betonung fester in seinen Arm. Thomas nickte nur
und kniff aufgrund des leichten Schmerzes die Augen zusammen. „Ich habe
Tim gesagt, er soll dir das Haus und die Umgebung zeigen - ich kümmere
mich unterdessen um das Abendessen. Bis nachher!" Mit ihren betörenden
Lippen deutete sie einen Kussmund an und lies Thomas wieder allein.
Fasziniert von ihrer, trotz ihres nicht mehr jugendlichen Alters, noch
immer tadellosen Figur blickte er ihr begehrlich nach und folgte jedem
Hüftschwung mit seinen hungrigen Augen.
Nachdem sein Freund Tim ihn herumgeführt und alles erklärt hatte, trafen
sie sich in der großen Wohnküche zum Abendessen wieder, bei dem Thomas wie
abgesprochen den geplanten Angelausflug für Morgen früh absagte.
Anschließend waren alle von der Reise ziemlich erschöpft und es dauerte
nicht lange, bis jeder in seinem Schlafzimmer verschwunden war. Thomas
wunderte sich nur, dass Herr und Frau Schneider anscheinend getrennte
Schlafzimmer hatten, aber er machte sich darüber keine weiteren Gedanken.
Am nächsten Morgen wachte Thomas kurz nach 08.00 Uhr dadurch auf, weil Tim
und sein Vater beim zusammenpacken ihrer Angelutensilien einigen Lärm
veranstalteten, aber er begab sich nicht aus seinem Zimmer, solange die
beiden noch nicht fort waren. Gegen 08.30 Uhr dann war es endlich soweit,
Vater und Sohn waren aus dem Haus gegangen und kurze Zeit später hörte
Thomas das Motorengeräusch der Motoryacht, die sogleich ihren Kurs aufs
offene Meer nahm. Nun war es endlich soweit. Er und Tims Mutter waren
allein in der riesigen Luxusfinka und Thomas konnte es nicht erwarten,
ihren reifen Luxuskörper zu verwöhnen und von ihr mindestens ebenso
verwöhnt zu werden. Eilig sprang er aus dem Bett und begab sich in das
angrenzende Badezimmer, das er sich mit Tim teilte. Dort duschte er
ausgiebig, putzte sich die Zähne und wollte, nur mit einem Handtuch um den
Hüften, gerade wieder zurück in sein Zimmer, als die Badezimmertür sich
öffnete und Frau Schneider eintrat. „Nicht so eilig, mein Schatz!"
begrüßte sie ihn und Thomas blieb an der Zimmertür stehen. „Guten Morgen -
Mutti!" entgegnete er etwas zaghaft und die Mutter seines besten Freundes
lächelte ihm freudig zu. Sie war bereits fertig geschminkt und frisiert
und ihr anbetungswürdiger Körper wurde nur von einem rosa
Frotteebademantel verhüllt, der allerdings einen tiefen Einblick in ihre
atemberaubende Oberweite erlaubte. „Hasst du dich denn schon eingecremt?"
fragte Sylvia und griff mit ihren langen Fingern nach einem dunkelbraunen
Fläschchen, in dem sich eine klare Flüssigkeit befand. „Nein, ich hab nur
geduscht", antwortete Thomas und ging langsam auf die attraktive Frau zu.
„Dann lass mich das für dich machen", sprach Frau Schneider weiter, „es
ist wichtig, dass man seinen Körper vernünftig pflegt. Erst recht solch
einen jungen und schönen wie deinen!" Dabei griff sie mit einer Hand nach
Thomas Handtuch, welches seinen Unterleib bedeckte, und ließ es mit einer
raschen Bewegung zu Boden gleiten. Jetzt stand der beste Freund ihres
Sohnes splitternackt vor ihr und sein „bester Freund" stand ebenfalls
waagerecht von seinem durchtrainierten Körper ab. Natürlich registrierte
Sylvia die sichtbare Erregung ihres jugendlichen Gespielen mit einem
zufriedenen Lächeln, doch tat sie zunächst so, als würde sie der
einsatzbereite Lustspender überhaupt nicht interessieren. Aufgrund ihrer
hochhackigen Sommerpumps war sie ebenso groß wie Thomas und stellte sich
nun dicht hinter den erwartungsvoll strammstehenden Jungen. Sie öffnete
die Ölflasche mit ihren reich beringten Händen und ließ die intensiv
duftende Flüssigkeit in ihre Handfläche fließen. Mit langsamen, kreisenden
Bewegungen glitten ihre öligen Hände über seinen Rücken und massierten die
wohltuende Lotion zärtlich ein. Thomas schloss genießerisch die Augen und
als Sylvias rechte Hand über sein strammes Hinterteil fuhr und dabei mit
den Fingerspitzen durch die enge Poritze streifte, spreizte er automatisch
die Beine ein Stück weit, um ihrer erfahrenen Hand das Weitergleiten zu
erleichtern. Die suchenden Finger glitten weiter, fanden zielsicher den
zum Bersten gefüllten Hodensack des atemlos dastehenden Teenagers und
umfassten diesen gefühlvoll aber energisch. Thomas ließ daraufhin ein
wohliges Brummen vernehmen und als Frau Schneiders andere Hand mit
ebensolcher erfahrenen Gewandtheit seine ansehnliche Brustmuskulatur,
sowie seinen flachen Bauch mit den Spitzen ihrer langen Nägel entlangfuhr,
begann sein stocksteif von ihm abstehendes Glied bereits verdächtig zu
zucken. „Möchtest du Mutti auch eincremen?" hauchte Sylvia ihm ins Ohr und
leckte dabei kurz an seinem Ohrläppchen. „Oh ja, das würde ich gern!"
antwortete Thomas ehrlich und sah mit Begeisterung, wie die reife Frau den
Bademantel zu Boden fallen ließ und ihren anbetungswürdigen Körper direkt
vor ihm auf dem weichen Badezimmerteppich ausstreckte. Sylvia Schneider
lag nun flach auf dem Rücken und ihre Hände begannen langsam, ihre großen
Brüste zu kneten, wobei aus den weit hervorgetretenen Nippeln die warme
Milch in kleinen Fontänen über ihre braungebrannte Haut sprudelte. „Komm
und setz dich auf Muttis Gesicht!" schnurrte Sylvia mit bebender Stimme
und zog den breitbeinig über ihr stehenden Jungen an seinen tief
herabhängenden Hoden zu sich herunter. Thomas ging auf die Knie, wobei er
nun rücklings über dem aufdringlich geschminkten Gesicht der Mutter seines
Freundes hockte und sein pochendes Rohr in Richtung ihrer
Milchverschmierten Safttitten zeigte. Von seiner prall geschwollenen
Eichel löste sich ein dicker Tropfen schleimiger Vorfreude, den Sylvia
sogleich mit ihren feucht glänzenden Fingern aufnahm und zusammen mit
ihrer Liebesmilch zwischen ihren betörenden Händen verrieb. „Du darfst
dich ruhig gehen lassen, mein Liebling! Lass Mutti in deinem heißen Samen
baden!" Dabei faltete sie ihre langen Finger um den bebenden Stamm des
zuckenden Rohres und schnappte mit ihren vollen Lippen nach den
Saftstrotzenden Eiern, die wie zwei reife Früchte direkt in ihr wollüstig
blickendes Gesicht hingen. Erst langsam und dann immer schneller werdend
fickte Thomas in die wie zum Gebet gefalteten Hände seiner ‚Traummutter
und diese saugte und lutschte an seinen empfindlichen Hoden, bis er mit
ungezügelter Wildheit seinen Saft in dicken, schneeweißen Spritzern über
ihren göttlichen Körper verteilte. Nach 5 oder 6 kräftigen Schüben ebbte
der Strom des nahrhaften Nektars langsam ab und Sylvia ließ die merklich
kleiner gewordene Eichel in ihren hungrigen Mund gleiten, um ihr mittels
ihrer geschickten Zunge auch die letzten darin verbliebenen Tropfen zu
entlocken. Ihr perfekter Körper war über und über besudelt von weißlicher
Muttermilch sowie breiigem Jungmännersamen und verströmte einen Geruch von
purer Lust und Weiblichkeit in dem luxuriösen Badezimmer, der Thomas Sinne
benebelte.
„Massiere mich jetzt!" verlangte sie ungeduldig, als der halbsteife
Schwengel aus ihrem Mund glitt und ihre Gier nach Befriedigung dem ersten
Höhepunkt entgegen steuerte. Der 16jährige Junge, konnte sich an dem vor
ihm windenden Frauenkörper nicht satt sehen und griff beherzt mit beiden
Händen in die ausgeprägten Rundungen der Mutter seines Freundes, um ihr,
so, wie sie es verlangte, seinen Samen auf jede Faser ihrer reifen aber
dennoch straffen Haut zu verteilen. Frau Schneider stöhnte inbrünstig auf,
als die zarten Hände des Jungen mit dem weißlichen Schleim ihre vollen
Brüste benetzten und dabei weiter Fontänen ihrer sprudelnden Muttermilch
hervorzauberten. Instinktiv winkelte sie ihre langen, schlanken Beine fest
an und Thomas sah direkt unter sich ihre tropfnasse, rasierte Muttermöse,
deren fleischige Schamlippen dunkelrot geschwollen auf seine Zunge zu
warten schienen. Thomas ließ seine Samen- und Muttermilchverschmierten
Finger über das nässende Fotzenfleisch gleiten, wobei der Zeige- und der
Mittelfinger von Sylvias hungrigem Fickloch regelrecht eingesogen wurden.
Wollüstig jaulte diese auf und presste ihren Unterleib den immer tiefer in
sie eindringenden Fingern entgegen. Während Frau Schneiders erfahrene
Scheide immer mehr an herb duftender Mösensoße produzierte, wanderte
Thomas zweite Hand über ihre prallen Arschbacken dem rosarot schimmernden
Anus entgegen und umspielte mit seinen Fingerspitzen den verlockend
faltigen Hintereingang. Sofort zog Sylvia ihre strammen Oberschenkel noch
weiter an ihren bebenden Körper heran, so dass 2 Finger mühelos den
trainierten Schließmuskel passierten und sich unter zufriedenem Grunzen
ihrerseits in den engen Enddarm schoben. „Jaaaa! Mach weiter! Fick mich
mit deinen Fingern!" schrie Frau Schneider laut auf, bevor sie nun
ihrerseits Thomas zarte Arschbacken mit ihren langen Fingern spreizte und
mit ihrer wendigen Zunge an dem schmalen Damm entlang, bis zu seinem Poloch
leckte. Dort ließ sie das gelenkige Leckinstrument minutenlang um den
sensiblen Kranz kreisen, ehe Thomas, der vor Geilheit schon wieder fast
wahnsinnig wurde, sie anflehte: „Oh bitte, Mutti! Bitte steck mir deine
lange Zunge in den Arsch!" Gesagt - getan, und während Sylvia den
wimmernden Lustknaben mit ihrer enorm langen Zunge rektal verwöhnte,
machte dessen Mund sich über ihre auslaufende Mutterfotze her, indem er an
ihrem Perlengroßen Kitzler saugte und leckte, als gäbe es für ihn kein
Morgen mehr.
Die fickenden Finger des Jungen in ihrem Hintern und ihrer Möse, sowie
seine vibrierende Zunge, die ihre dick geschwollene Klitoris mit einem
Trommelfeuer an Zungenschlägen eindeckte, ließen Sylvia Schneider immer
tiefer in den dunstigen Sumpf aus Wollust und Ekstase versinken. Ihr, von
seinem kostbaren Samen und ihrer nahrhaften Milch bedeckter Körper bäumte
sich unter dem über ihr knienden Thomas krampfhaft auf und während sie
ihren herbei gesehnten Orgasmus aus tiefster Kehle aus sich herausbrüllte,
sprudelte klares, eigentümlich schmeckendes Ejakulat aus ihrer kochenden
Spalte, direkt in das junge Gesicht ihres Wunschsohnes, der gierig und
ohne zu zögern den Quell ihrer Weiblichkeit in sich aufnahm. Während sich
ihre Krallen tief in sein Hinterteil bohrten, tobte in ihrem Körper ein
Tornado der Lust, der sie in weite Welten entführte und sie erst nach
schier endlosen Minuten wieder zur Realität zurückfinden lies. Atemlos
keuchend, mit ihrer flatternden Zunge immer wieder durch Thomas
empfindsame Poritze fahrend, schnappte Sylvia nach Luft und bedankte sich
aus tiefstem Herzen: „Du bist einfach unglaublich, mein Junge! Nur die
kannst Mutti so glücklich machen!" Thomas, der den Höhepunkt seiner reifen
Ersatzmutter fast ebenso genossen hatte, wie sie selbst, küsste noch einmal
zärtlich die schmierig glänzenden, blutroten Schamlippen ihrer malerisch
schönen Möse und stieg dann mit weichen Knien von ihr ab. „Küss mich -
lass mich dein hübsches Gesicht mit meiner Zunge säubern und meinen
Geilsaft kosten! Ich glaube, so heftig wie gerade, ist es mir noch nie
gekommen!" lächelte Sylvia und zog das verschmierte Antlitz des Jungen zu
sich herunter. In inniger Umarmung und Leidenschaft küsste sich das
altersmäßig so ungleiche Paar minutenlang, unterbrochen nur von den
fürsorglichen Bemühungen Sylvias, ihren eigenen Orgasmusschleim von seinem
unschuldigen Gesicht und seinen schlanken Fingern zu schlecken. „Ich
glaube, wir können beide schon wieder eine Dusche vertragen!" meinte Frau
Schneider schließlich, als sich ihre Lippen voneinander lösten und
richtete sich auf. Thomas wollte sie zurückhalten, er war bereits wieder
so erregt, das er sie auf der Stelle ficken wollte, zumal ihr makelloser
Körper durch die darauf verteilten Körpersäfte einen Duft verströmte, der
seine animalischsten Triebe reizte. Doch Sylvia entwand sich seinem Griff
und stand mit etwas wackeligen Beinen auf. „Ich gehe in mein Bad und mache
mich für dich zurecht, mein Schatz!" lächelte sie ihn an. „Mach du dich
ruhig frisch und geh dich in der Küche erstmal stärken. Es steht alles
für dich bereit. In einer Stunde erwarte ich dich in meinem Schlafzimmer!"
Der Blick, den sie Thomas dabei zuwarf genügte, um ihm einen wohligen
Schauer über den Rücken zu schicken.
Nachdem Thomas sich unter einer kalten Dusche halbwegs abgeregt und
gesäubert hatte, ging er, nur mit seinen Boxershorts bekleidet hinunter in
die Küche, in der ein wirklich opulentes Frühstück auf ihn wartete. Tims
Mutter hatte wirklich an alles gedacht: Müsli, Cornflakes, frische Milch,
aufgebackene Brötchen, Marmelade, Wurst und Käse, sowie frischer Kaffee
und Orangensaft ließen Thomas das Wasser im Munde zusammen laufen. Als er
sich gestärkt hatte blickte er zur Uhr, es war bereits 5 Minuten nach 10
Uhr und Frau Schneider hatte gesagt, dass sie ihn um 10 Uhr in ihrem
Schlafgemach erwarte. Er war also spät dran und räumte hektisch den
Küchentisch ab, wusch sich Mund und Hände, um sofort darauf die Treppe zum
Obergeschoß hoch zu eilen. Frau Schneiders Zimmer lag am Ende des langen
Flures und Thomas sah, das ihre Tür einen Spalt breit offen stand. Als er
noch etwa 5 Schritte von der Zimmertür entfernt war, blieb er kurz stehen
und lauschte. Was war das für ein brummendes Geräusch? War es etwa das
Boot von Tims Vater und die beiden kamen bereits wieder zurück? Eigentlich
wollten sie nicht vor 12:00 Uhr wieder da sein! Thomas eilte in das
Schlafzimmer und wollte Sylvia warnen, doch als er den Raum betrat, sah er
mit offenem Mund und großen Stielaugen, dass der Grund für des
eigentümliche Summen ein ganz anderer war: Auf dem riesigen Futonbett, am
anderen Ende des Zimmers lag sie, die wahrscheinlich geilste und
hemmungsloseste Frau, der er je begegnen würde, mit akrobatisch
gespreizten Beinen und in ihren wertvoll beringten, Langnageligen Händen
hielt sie einen überdimensionalen, pechschwarzen Riesendildo, dessen
faustgroße Eichel bereits halb in ihrer glatt rasierten, rosa glänzenden
Möse versunken war. Außer ein paar grellroten Kissen war das Bett nur mit
einer schwarzen Latexmatratze überzogen, von der sich ihr
anbetungswürdiger, reifer Frauenkörper kontrastreich abhob. Zudem trug
Sylvia pechschwarze Lackstiefeletten, mit mindestens 15 cm langen Absätzen
und ihre weit gespreizten Beine hatte sie in halterlose, großmaschige
Netzstrumpfhosen gehüllt. Ihr mehr als begehrenswerter Körper war
eingeschnürt in eine Art Pferdehalfter aus schwarzen Ledergurten und
silbernen Ketten, durch den ihre vollreifen Geschlechtsorgane wie Tempel
der Lust lasziv betont wurden. Um ihren schlanken Hals trug sie ein etwa 5
cm breites, schwarzes Lederhalsband, an dessen Vorderseite ein großer
Metallring befestigt war. Ein ebensolches Halsband lag noch auf dem nahe
stehenden Nachttisch. Das platinblonde Haar hatte sie mit reichlich Gel
straff nach hinten gebürstet, was ihrem Gesicht, zusammen mit dem
übermäßig aufgetragenen Make-up, den schwarzen Lidschatten und überlangen
Wimpern, sowie den mit dunkelrotem Lipgloss geschminkten und mit schwarzem
Kajal sinnlich umrandeten Lippen ein nahezu Dominagleiches Aussehen
verlieh.
„Du bist 5 Minuten zu spät!" tadelte Frau Schneider mit ernster Stimme,
als sie den Freund ihres Sohnes an der Bettkante stehen sah, aber
innerlich genoss sie seine begehrlichen Blicke, die sich nach ihrem
Lustkörper verzehrten. „Entschuldigung Mutti", stammelte Thomas unsicher,
der seine Augen nicht von ihrem hinreißend verpackten Luxusleib abwenden
konnte, so dass es in seinen Shorts langsam wieder eng wurde. „Gefällt
dir, was du siehst?" fragte sie und ließ den riesigen Gummischwanz dumpf
stöhnend ein ganzes Stück tiefer in sich hineingleiten. „Oh ja, das sieht
supergeil aus! So etwas habe ich noch nie gesehen!" bekannte Thomas
ehrlich und sah, wie das schwarze Ungetüm von den geschwollenen
Schamlippen Sylvias fest umspannt wurde. „Da du nicht pünktlich sein
kannst, habe ich schon ohne dich angefangen! Zur Strafe darfst du mir nur
zusehen!" grollte die hoch erregte Frau und blickte dem fassungslos
dastehenden Jungen dabei tief in die Augen. Dieser griff sich
gedankenverloren an die unübersehbare Beule in seiner Hose und massierte
seinen mittlerweile stocksteifen Dolch durch den dünnen Stoff hindurch.
„Hat deine Mutter dir erlaubt, dich selbst zu betatschen!!!" herrschte
Frau Schneider ihn umgehend an. „Zieh das dämliche Stück Stoff endlich aus
und zeig mir, was ich sehen will!" Sofort streifte sich Thomas die kurze
Hose über die Beine und prachtvoll, wie aus Marmor geschlagen, prangte ihr
sein mächtiges Glied kerzengerade entgegen. „Na also, es geht doch!" fuhr
Sylvia nun fort, „komm zu mir - ich habe was für dich!" Der Junge
rutschte auf den Knien über die kühle Latexmatratze und als er mit seinem
pendelnden Schwanz fast vor ihrem Gesicht war, sagte sie: „Stopp! Das ist
nah genug!" Mit einer Hand griff sie nach diversen Bändern und Ketten, die
auf dem Nachttisch auf der anderen Seite lagen und hielt Thomas als erstes
ein Halsband entgegen, wie auch sie selbst eines trug. „Binde dir das um!"
befahl sie und Thomas tat, wie ihm aufgetragen wurde. „Den Ring nach vorn
und den Gurt schön eng schnallen!" ermahnte sie mit bebender Stimme, denn
nebenbei hatte sie den schwarzen Kunstpenis wieder mit beiden Händen
umschlossen und führte sich diesen nun bis zu den am Ende angedeuteten
Eiern in ihre überdehnte Lustgrotte ein. Mit zitternden Händen legte sich
Thomas das breite Lederband um den Hals und verschloss es mit der im
Nacken befindlichen Gürtelschnalle. „So ist es richtig - und jetzt das
hier!" lobte Sylvia gnädig und warf ihm ein etwas merkwürdiges Gebilde aus
Ketten, Lederbändern und Metallringen zu. „Zieh das an!" forderte sie
stöhnend, während der Plastikschwanz laut brummend durch ihre siffende
Fickspalte pflügte. Thomas sah das unbekannte Etwas zweifelnd an und
fragte sich, wie und worüber er dieses Ding anziehen sollte. Trotz ihrer
inzwischen weiter angestiegenen Erregungskurve, bemerkte Frau Schneider,
dass der Junge damit heillos überfordert war und leicht stockend ließ sie
vernehmen: „Na komm - komm zu Mutti - Ich helfe dir dabei, mein kleiner,
ungeschickter Junge!" Während Thomas auf seinen Knien noch etwas näher an
sie heranrutschte, richtete sich auch Sylvia auf in die Hocke, wobei der
vibrierende, schwarze Dildo tief in ihrem Unterleib stecken blieb und sie
nun von diesem Monsterschwanz regelrecht aufgespießt, dem ungläubig
staunenden Teenager gegenüber saß. „Oh Gott!!" stöhnte die reife Frau aus
tiefster Brust auf, „dieses Ding spaltet deine Mutter in zwei Hälften!"
Dabei erhob sie sich etwas und hielt das summende Ungetüm mit einer Hand
umklammert, so dass er gut 15 cm aus ihrer glatt rasierten Grotte
herausragte. Weißlich schimmernd lief ihr duftender Mösensaft an dem
feucht glänzenden, pechschwarzen Schaft hinunter und sammelte sich zu
einer schmierigen Lache auf dem dunklen Latexbettlaken. Mit ihren
eleganten Händen nahm sie Thomas nun das Leder/Metall-Geschirr aus der
Hand und sagte sanft aber bestimmt: „Dreh dich jetzt um!" Thomas tat es
und sah nun in den großen Wandspiegeln, wie Sylvia den großen Metallring
in der Mitte des Halfters zwischen Daumen und Zeigefinger nahm und den
Zeigefinger der anderen Hand in die sämige Lache ihres Mösensaftes tunkte.
Anschließend schmierte sie den schleimigen Brei auf die Innenseite des etwa
4 cm im Durchmesser großen Silberringes und hielt diesen dann zwischen
ihren langen, rot lackierten Nägeln von hinten direkt vor Thomas blau
glänzende Eichel. „Da muss er jetzt durch!" flüsterte sie dem erschrocken
blickenden Jungen ins Ohr und ohne eine Reaktion abzuwarten, stülpte sie
das kalte, aber glitschige Metallteil über seine pochende Schwanzspitze.
Da diese, an der dicksten Stelle, im Durchmesser mindestens einen halben
Zentimeter breiter war als der Ring, dauerte es einige Zeit, bis Frau
Schneiders scharfe Fingernägel das blanke Metall über die empfindliche
Penishaut gepresst hatten, zumal der wahnsinnig geile Anblick und das
unbeschreibliche Gefühl der über die sensible Eichelhaut kratzenden Nägel
und der schmierige, enge Silberring noch mehr Blut in Thomas stocksteifes
Glied pumpen lies. Als die dickste Stelle endlich überwunden war seufzte
Thomas erleichtert auf und Sylvias geschickte Finger hatten nun kaum noch
Mühe, den glänzenden Penisring langsam den ganzen dick adrigen Schaft
entlang, bis hin zur wieder breiter werdenden Schwanzwurzel zu schieben.
Nun entließ sie das gekonnt platzierte Schmuckstück aus ihren schönen
Händen und griff nach den daran befestigten, langen Lederriemen, die an
insgesamt 4 Ösen am äußeren Rand des Ringes befestigt waren. Davon führte
sie jeweils 2 nach hinten, an den prallen Hoden vorbei, durch die kaum
behaarte Kimme hindurch und ebenso 2 von vorn, über Thomas muskulöse
Oberschenkel, bis sie die Enden über seinem strammen Hintern zusammen
gurten konnte. Da sie die Gurte fest anzog, wurde der Penisring noch
weiter über die dicke Schwanzwurzel geschoben und ließ das fest
eingeklemmte Glied wie einen Schlagstock hammerhart von seinem jungen
Körper abstehen. Thomas stöhnte laut auf, als die Gurte sich über seinen
Arschbacken spannten und er fühlte, wie der stabile Metallring in seinen
prallen Schwellkörper schnitt. „Pscht! Ruhig mein Kleiner - gleich ist
Mami fertig!" säuselte Sylvia zärtlich und deutete dem willenlosen Jungen,
sich nun wieder zu ihr umzudrehen. „Leg dich auf den Rücken und entspanne
dich!" fuhr sie bestimmend fort und Thomas gehorchte, neugierig auf das,
was wohl jetzt folgen würde.
Er lag flach auf dem Rücken und zwischen seinen weit gespreizten Beinen
hockte, den überdimensionalen Kunstschwanz noch immer fest mit ihren
dicken Mösenlippen umklammernd, die außerordentlich attraktive Mutter
seines besten Freundes. Mit einer Hand griff diese nun zielsicher nach
seinem prall gefüllten Hodensack und mit der anderen nach den zwei noch
verbliebenen, langen Lederbändern an seinem eigenwilligen
Leder/Ketten-Slip, die bisher noch ohne Funktion waren. Energisch zog Frau
Schneider den spärlich behaarten Eierbeutel in die Länge, so dass die
dicken Samenkugeln, fasst groß wie zwei Hühnereier in ihrer Handfläche
lagen und die zuvor noch faltige Sackhaut nun stramm gespannt war. Das
eine Band wickelte sie jetzt zwei- oder dreimal um das obere Drittel des
Saftbeutels, führte unter dem umwickelten Band das andere hindurch und zog
fest an beiden Enden. Thomas zuckte erschrocken und vor Schmerz laut
aufschreiend zusammen. Aber Sylvia beruhigte ihn, indem sie ihren
Zeigefinger auf seine Lippen legte und leise sprach: „Beruhige dich, mein
Liebling. Mutti will doch nur dein Bestes!" Sanft wog sie in ihrer
Handfläche nun die prall hervorgetretenen Eier und kraulte zärtlich mit
den langen Fingernägeln der anderen Hand über die glatt gespannte Haut.
Langsam vergaß Thomas den ersten Schmerz und fing zunehmend an, die
intensiven Liebkosungen ihrer ausnehmend schönen Hände an seinem Gehänge
zu genießen. Dadurch, dass seine empfindlichen Geschlechtsteile nun
kunstvoll verschnürt und abgebunden waren, kamen sie ihm noch größer und
praller vor, als sie es jemals waren und jede Berührung durch Frau
Schneiders erfahrenen Hände glaubte er noch viel intensiver zu spüren als
zuvor. Auch Sylvia genoss den Anblick und das Gefühl der zum Bersten mit
Leben gefüllten Männlichkeit in ihren Händen und begann erneut, sich den
mörderischen Riesenvibrator wieder tiefer einzuverleiben, indem sie ihren
begnadeten Körper einfach auf das steil emporragende Ungetüm absengte. Als
das schwarze Monster fast komplett in ihr verschwunden war, rückte sie tief
stöhnend noch etwas weiter zwischen Thomas gespreizte Beine und rieb sich
mit dessen unnatürlich angeschwollenen Hoden über den nassen und weit
hervorgetretenen Kitzler, was Thomas vor Geilheit fast um den Verstand
brachte. Sylvia Schneider hatte den dicken Kunstpimmel zwischen ihren
Lackstiefeletten eingeklemmt und ritt dermaßen wild und geräuschvoll auf
ihm, das es nicht lange dauerte, bis ein fulminanter Orgasmus sie erfasste
und ekstatisch schüttelte. In ihrem Sexrausch kratzte und kniff sie
gnadenlos an Thomas Hodensack herum, dass diesem um seine Familienjuwelen
Angst und Bange wurde. Aber er genoss es auch zu sehen und zu spüren, wie
diese begehrenswerte reife Frau sich hemmungslos ihrer Lust hingab -
beseelt nur von der Gier nach Befriedigung und sexueller Erfüllung.
Als ihre Orgasmuswellen sich langsam legten und Frau Schneider langsam
wieder zu sich kam, fand sie sich bäuchlings auf dem muskulösen Körper
ihres Wunschsohnes liegend wieder und sie spürte deutlich, wie das
überdimensionale Kunstglied aus ihrer übergelaufenen Möse glitt. Mit einem
satten Schmatzen flutschte die verdickte Eichel aus der engen Umklammerung
ihrer geröteten Schamlippen und der schwarze Megadildo viel, nass glänzend
von ihrem Lustschleim, auf das Bettlaken. Sofort griff Sylvia hinter sich
und nahm das künstliche Lustobjekt in ihre rechte Hand, um genussvoll
ihren eigenen Fotzensaft, der die glatte, schwarze Oberfläche in Gänze
bedeckte, mit ihrer langen Zunge und ihren sinnlichen Lippen
abzuschlecken. Dabei saß sie nun fast wieder aufrecht auf dem regungslos
daliegenden Jungen, wobei ihre prallen Pobacken gegen seine abgeschnürten
Hoden drückten und sein pulsierendes Rohr der Länge nach zwischen ihren,
noch immer weit geöffneten Schamlippen eingeklemmt, auf ihren Venushügel
drückte. Langsam bewegte sie ihr ausladendes Becken vor und zurück, so
dass die Unterseite von Thomas blut gefülltem Penis von ihren äußeren,
fleischigen Schamlippen regelrecht massiert wurde und bei jeder Bewegung
ein enormer Schwall Mösenschleim ihrem überdehnten Fickkanal entwich und
auf den zartrosa glänzenden Phallus ran. Als sie den schwarzen
Plastikprügel mit ihrem betörenden Mund von den sämigen Ergüssen ihrer
Weiblichkeit gesäubert hatte, deutete sie noch einen abschließenden
Zungenkuss auf die monströse Eichel an und murmelte gedankenverloren: „Das
war nicht schlecht - aber jetzt brauche ich einen richtigen Schwanz aus
Fleisch und Blut!" und an Thomas gewandt fragte sie mit lauter Stimme:
„Na? Was möchte mein Sohn jetzt tun?" Sie griff mit zwei Fingern einer
Hand in den Ring von Thomas Halsband und zog ihn zu sich hoch. „Na los -
sag es deiner Mutter! Was wünscht du dir jetzt?" zischte sie
schlangengleich und schaute ihm mit einem bohrenden Blick tief in die
Augen. „Ich - ich wünsche mir, das, das du mich fickst - Mutti" stammelte
Thomas unsicher und wurde tatsächlich noch ein bisschen rot als er das
sagte. „Ich kann dich nicht verstehen! Was war das? Sag es Mutti noch mal
- aber sag es ihr so, wie sie es hören möchte!" forderte Sylvia mit
strenger Stimme und verband ihren und Tomas Halsring geschickt mit einem
Karabinerhaken, so dass sein Kopf sich von ihrem nicht mehr als 5 cm
fortbewegen konnte. Thomas konnte ihren heißen, verlangenden Atem auf
seinen Lippen spüren und ihre dicklappigen Schamlippen, die an seinem
fickbereiten Riemen entlang rutschten, ließen bei ihm alle Sicherungen
durchknallen. „Ich will das du mich fickst, Mutti! Bitte steck dir den
dicken Schwanz deines Sohnes in deine heiße Muttifotze und besorg es mir!
Ich kann nicht länger warten! Bitte, bitte fick mich jetzt!!!" schrie er
der Mutter seines besten Freundes mitten ins Gesicht und umklammerte mit
beiden Händen ihre prallen Arschbacken, die seine Eier fast zerquetschten,
so fest er konnte. Anstatt zu antworten presste Sylvia ihm ihre dick
geschminkten Lippen auf den Mund und seufzend stieß sie ihre flinke Zunge
in seine Mundhöhle vor. Während ihre Zungen einen wilden Kampf in ihren
Mündern fochten, erhob Frau Schneider sich ein Stück und hielt ihr
offenes, tropfnasses Fotzenloch direkt über die purpurne Eichel von Thomas
steil emporragenden Fickmast. Langsam löste sie ihre Lippen von seinen und
mit bebender Stimme sagte sie fast beschwörend: „Sieh hin! Sieh, wie sich
deine Mutter den wundervollsten Schwanz der Welt in ihre hungrige Möse
schiebt - den Schwanz ihres Sohnes!" Sie blickten beide, Stirn an Stirn
nach unten und mit einem lauten Schmatzen senkte sich Sylvias Unterleib
auf das hammerharte Glied ihres jungen Gespielen hinab. Beide stöhnten
wollüstig auf, als Frau Schneiders eine Hand Thomas Hinterkopf umfasste
und sein Gesicht zwischen ihre rhythmisch schaukelnden Brüste drückte,
welche unter den Leder- und Kettenbändern aufreizend hervorragten. „Saug
an Muttis Titten! Hol dir ihre Milch!!" forderte sie ihn liebestrunken
auf und presste Thomas mit der anderen Hand die geschwollenen,
dunkelbraunen Brustwarzen in den bereitwillig geöffneten Mund. Während
sich Sylvia den dick adrigen Fickknochen mit immer härteren und tieferen
Stößen in ihr brodelnd heißes Mutterloch stieß, saugte Thomas wie ein Kalb
an ihren harten Zitzen, was ihrer beider Lust noch um ein vielfaches
potenzierte. Minutenlang ritt die erfahrene Frau immer ungestümere
Attacken auf dem bullig grunzenden 16jährigen, unter immer hemmungsloseren
Lustschreien und Anfeuerungen. Bis ihr vollreifer Körper schließlich auf
dem glühend heißen Liebesstab ein letztes Mal hinunter fuhr und sie
zuckend und wimmernd vor Glück auf ihm zusammensackte.
Für Thomas war es immer wieder faszinierend mitzuerleben, mit welcher
ungezügelten Leidenschaft sich die Mutter seines besten Freundes ihrer
scheinbar unstillbaren Lust hingab und er war mehr als glücklich, von ihr
als Objekt ihrer Begierde auserkoren zu sein. Während ihr heißer,
schweißnasser Traumkörper noch zuckend auf ihm lag, streichelten seine
Hände über ihren Rücken und die wohlgeformten Pobacken, welche noch immer
auf seinen fast schon schmerzenden Hoden ruhten. „Oh, mein Liebling! Du
bist noch so wundervoll hart und stark in mir!" flüsterte ihm Sylvia ins
Ohr und leckte ihm züngelnd über das junge Gesicht. „Sag Mutti, wie du es
ihr jetzt besorgen willst!" Sie richtete sich wieder auf und Thomas musste
ihrer Bewegung folgen, da sein Hals noch immer an ihren gekettet war. Frau
Schneiders Augen funkelten bereits wieder erwartungsvoll, als Thomas mit
seinen Händen ihren Hintern fest packte und sagte: „Bitte Mutti! Bitte
lass mich in deinen wundervollen Po! Ich will dich in den Arsch ficken!!!"
„Oh ja - das will ich auch, mein Sohn!" gab Sylvia als Antwort, „Du bist
genau der richtige Deckhengst für meinen Hintern! Komm und fick mich in
den Arsch, bis dir der Saft in den Eiern kocht!!!" Mit ihrer rechten Hand
griff Frau Schneider an Thomas beringte Schwanzwurzel und zog das rötlich
pulsierende Geschlechtsteil des Jungen mit einem lauten Schmatzen aus
ihrer nass gefickten Mutterfotze. Nun ließ sich die reife Frau langsam
nach hinten fallen und lag schließlich mit weit gespreizten Beinen auf dem
Rücken, den ungeduldig zitternden Jungen den sie an ihren schlanken Hals
gekettet hatte, direkt über sich. In einer Hand hielt sie seinen
glutheißen Lustbolzen zärtlich umschlossen und massierte ihren breiigen
Mösenschleim sowie die bereits reichlich hervortretende Gleitflüssigkeit
mit dem Daumen über die dunkelblau glänzende Nille. Ihre andere Hand hatte
sie unter ihrem fraulichen Hintern hindurch direkt vor ihrem weit
gespreizten Hintereingang positioniert und verrieb die immer noch
reichlich aus ihrem wild gefickten Fotzenloch hervorquellende Orgasmussoße
mit spitzen Fingern in und um ihr zartrosa lockendes Arschloch. Ein ums
andere mal ließ Sylvia dabei einen oder zwei Finger tief in ihr Rektum
gleiten, um das enge Loch gewissenhaft auf den an Umfang und Länge zu nie
erreichter Größe angeschwollenen Penis des Jungen vorzubereiten. Thomas
widmete sich unterdessen den zwischen den Ketten und Lederriemen prall
hervorquellenden Titten seiner „Ziehmutter", die er mit beider Händen fest
zusammendrückte, so dass er die weit abstehenden Nippel, aus den bereits
wieder die warme Muttermilch tropfte, fast auf einmal in den Mund nehmen
konnte, um sich an ihrem Nektar zu laben. Frau Schneider begleitete all
dies mit einem fiebrigen Stöhnen und als sie ihre Vorbereitungen um ihr
sensibles Hinterteil abgeschlossen hatte, reckte sie ihre endlos langen,
in nuttigen Netzstrumpfhosen steckenden Beine hoch in die Luft und kreuzte
sie auf Thomas Rücken. Dadurch hob sich ihr praller Hintern ein paar
Zentimeter an, so dass der inzwischen von Mösensaft und Vorfreude
tropfnasse Jungenschwanz direkt vor ihrem ebenso feuchten Hintereingang
prangte. Sanft setzte die erfahrene Frau die pulsierende Schwanzkrone an
ihrem aufnahmebereiten Darmausgang an und drückte ihm ihr frauliches
Becken leicht entgegen. Gut geschmiert flutschte die marmorne Spitze
seiner Männlichkeit wie von selbst in den engen Kanal und wurde direkt
hinter der überstehenden Wulst fest von ihrem elastischen Schließmuskel
umklammert. Thomas wurde von einem intensiven Gefühl der absoluten Hingabe
und Geborgenheit übermannt, wie er es bisher noch nicht kannte. Sicher war
dies nicht sein erster Arschfick mit der Mutter seines Freundes, aber er
fühlte sie heute so viel intensiver als zuvor, dass er, wenn sein Schwanz
und seine prall gefüllten Hoden nicht so kunstvoll eingeschnürt und
beringt gewesen wären, ohne Frage seinen Samen sofort tief in ihren
Hintern gepumpt hätte. So aber spürte er nur, wie sein zuckender,
pochender Riemen von Sylvias trainierten Darmmuskeln immer tiefer in ihr
schwülfeuchtes Arschloch gesogen wurde und er genoss es, wie sich ihr
wollüstiger Körper Zentimeter für Zentimeter auf seinen heißen Docht
schob. Sylvia stöhnte zufrieden und wurde lauter, je tiefer der brettharte
Phallus in sie eindrang. „Gib ihn mir ganz, mein Liebster!" flehte sie mit
bebender Stimme, „Mutti will dich ganz tief in ihrem Arsch fühlen!!" Nun
gab es für Thomas kein Halten mehr. Mit einem animalischen Schrei und
verzerrtem Gesicht presste er sein bebendes Becken gegen Frau Schneiders
Unterleib und sein bockender Penis bohrte sich in voller Länge in den
lodernden Analschlund seiner reifen Gespielin. Wie eine gut geölte
Maschine trieb er seinen Hammer mit gleichmäßigen und kraftvollen Stößen
vor und zurück, wobei sich das unter ihm windende Weib seinen druckvollen
Schwanzattacken lustvoll entgegenstemmte. „Oh ja, das ist so geil! Spieß
deine Mami auf!" röchelte Sylvia mit weit aufgerissenen Augen und während
sie sich mit einer Hand die warme Muttermilch aus den vollreifen Titten
quetschte, malträtierten die Finger der anderen ihre übergroß
angeschwollene Klit und fickten tief in ihr überlaufendes Fotzenloch.
Thomas fühlte an seinem Blut gefüllten Stamm, wie sich ihr Innerstes um
ihn herum verkrampfte und ihre perfekt trainierten Arschmuskeln seinen
dick adrigen Lustspender fest umschlossen und wellenförmig massierten.
Sylvia Schneider war des Denkens uns Sprechens nun nicht mehr mächtig und
grunzte unverständliche Dinge aus ihrer heiseren Kehle empor, als wäre sie
von einem Dämon besessen. Während ihr die Milch aus den steinharten Nippeln
spritzte und ihre Möse zwischen ihren lang Nageligen Fingern ihr klares
Ejakulat herausschoss, bäumte sich ihr in Ketten und Leder gehüllter
Traumkörper unter Thomas auf und brach nach minutenlangem Orgasmuskampf
erschöpft, aber endlos befriedigt zusammen.
Als sie wimmernd und zitternd vor Glück da lag, seinen glühenden Dorn noch
immer fest mit ihrem Anus umklammert, küsste der unbeschreiblich stolze
Junge die reife Frau zärtlich auf ihren sinnlichen Mund und mit bebenden
Lippen erwiderte sie sein Liebesbekenntnis dankbar. „Nun sollst auch du
deine Erlösung erhalten, mein Sohn!" sprach sie schließlich feierlich und
löste geschickte die Verkettung ihrer beider Halsbänder. Thomas richtete
sich auf und dabei glitt seine abgeschnürte Ficklanze mit einem lauten
Schmatzen aus Sylvias Enddarm. Die dicken Adern an dem prall geschwollenen
Schaft waren mittlerweile beängstigend stark hervorgetreten und die Violett
glänzende Eichel so groß und Blut gefüllt, wie nie zuvor in seinem jungen
Leben. Der Silberring an seiner Schwanzwurzel ließ wohl das Blut weiter in
den pulsierenden Phallus fließen, aber der Rückfluss schien, je erregter er
wurde, immer weiter abgeklemmt zu werden. Auch seine, vom übermäßig
geflossenen Mösenschleim besudelten und abgeschnürten Hoden waren blau
angeschwollen und begannen schmerzten bereits erheblich. Alles in allem
war es höchste Zeit, das Thomas ihren Inhalt endlich vergießen konnte und
Frau Schneider wusste nur zu gut, das sie ihm die ersehnte Erlösung nun
gewähren musste. „Bist du bereit, Mutti deinen Saft zu schenken?" fragte
sie lüstern und kraulte mit ihren langen Nägeln sanft über Thomas prall
gefüllten Hodensack. Dieser konnte vor Geilheit kaum reden und grunzte nur
leise als Zeichen der Zustimmung. „Komm zu mir, mein Hengst und leg mir
deinen prachtvollen Schwanz zwischen die Titten!" Dabei umschloss sie ihre
prallen Brüste mit ihren teuer beringten Händen und presste diese unter dem
Ketten- und Lederriemenoberteil aufreizend zusammen. Durch ihre vorherige
Nippelmassage und die dabei massenweise ausgetretene Muttermilch, waren
ihre vollen Lustbälle feucht und glitschig, wobei sich in der tiefen
Busenfalte die herab rinnende Milch zu einem Rinnsal sammelte, das langsam
ihrem Bauchnabel entgegen lief. Thomas rutschte breitbeinig auf ihrem
flachen Bauch an ihr hoch, während sein berstender Hodensack über ihre
reife Haut schliff. Als sein stolz voran stehender Lustspender vor Sylvias
steil aufgerichteter Oberweite angelangt war, öffnete sie den
Milchgetränkten Zwischenhof ihrer formvollendeten Tittenberge und ließ
ihn, unter den Riemen und Ketten hindurch, langsam dazwischen gleiten. Mit
ihren erfahrenen Händen zog sie jetzt fest an zwei, an ihrem extravaganten
Oberteil befestigten Lederbändern, was dazu führte, dass ihre Lust
verheißenden Brüste eng zusammengepresst und Thomas glühendes Rohr nahezu
vollständig umschlossen wurde. Die Bänder hakte sie an ihrem Lederbustier
fest, so dass sie ihre geschmeidigen Hände wieder frei hatte, um sich mit
ihnen Thomas abgeschnürten Hoden zu widmen. Sanft strichen ihre
Rotlackierten Nägel über seinen Hintern und suchten nach dem Lederband,
welches seine Samenleiter bis jetzt so wirkungsvoll abgeschnürt hatte. Als
sie es gefunden hatte, löste Frau Schneider eilig die Verschnürung, was
Thomas erleichtert aufatmen und aus seiner prallen Eichel, die zwischen
ihren bezaubernden Brüsten hervorlugte, einen großen Schwall Gleitschmiere
fließen ließ. Gierig züngelte Sylvia nach der schleimigen Flüssigkeit und
nahm diese genussvoll mit ihrer langen Zunge auf. „Du schmeckst so gut,
mein Liebling!" schnurrte sie mit funkelnden Augen und leckte nochmals
verlangend über die pulsierende Schwanzkrone. Mit einer Hand ergriff sie
jetzt von hinten Thomas Muttermilchdurchtränkten Hodensack und mit der
Fingerspitzen der anderen kratzte sie langsam an seiner engen Arschkerbe
entlang. „Sei brav und fick die geilen Titten deiner Mutter, mein Sohn!"
befahl sie ihm mit sonorer Stimme. Thomas stöhnte geil auf und bewegte
seinen pochenden Schwanz in ihrer eng gepressten Tittenschlucht langsam
zurück und wieder vor. Es war ein wahnsinnig geiler Anblick, wie die bis
zum platzen gespannte Eichel zwischen dem weichen, aber trotz allem
fantastisch griffigen Milchbergen hervorlugte und wieder verschwand, aber
die Gefühle, die diese saftige Gipfel der Lust seinem fleißig hin und her
stoßenden Prügel bereiteten, waren noch viel unbeschreiblicher. Thomas
stöhnte seine Lust nun hemmungslos heraus und je heftiger und fordernder
seine Fickbewegungen wurden, umso intensiver drückte Sylvia seinen
triefnassen Hodensack und ließ den Nagel ihres linken Mittelfingers an
sein Poloch klopfen. „Gefällt es dir?" fragte sie geil. „Gefällte es dir,
deiner Mutter zwischen die dicken Titten zu ficken und dir von ihr dabei
deinen fetten Sack und dein geiles Arschloch massieren zu lassen?" „Ja
Mutti! Ja!!! Du bist die Beste! Ich will nur dich! Mein ganzes Leben lang,
immer nur dich will ich ficken!!!" brach es aus Thomas heraus und mit einem
tierischen Grunzen fickte er seinen glühenden Kolben immer schneller vor
und zurück. Er merkte, wie sich in seinen liebevoll massierten Hoden der
heiße Samen auf den Weg in die Freiheit machte und hielt Sylvias
Hinterkopf mit beiden Händen fest umklammert, um ihn etwas anzuheben und
so seine weiße Liebessoße mitten in ihr schönes Gesicht abrotzen zu
können. Auch Sylvia spürte, dass der mit animalischer Kraft zwischen ihre
Traumbrüste stoßende Junge bald am Ende sein würde und beeilte sich, ihm
noch eine weitere, letzte Luststeigerung zu Teil werden zu lassen. Mit
einem gefühlvollen aber festen Stoß, drückte sie ihm ihren Mittelfinger
tief in den engen Anus, um mit ihrem langen Nagel zielsicher über die
merklich geschwollene Prostata zu kraulen. Thomas schrie auf und fast
wurde ihm schwarz vor Augen. Doch es war zu spät, denn die aufgestauten
Mengen an nahrhaftem Jungmännersamen waren auf ihrem Weg durch seinen
Samenleiter, den wild zuckenden Fickschwanz empor aus der weit geöffneten
Harnröhre heraus, durch nichts mehr aufzuhalten und klatschten Salve für
Salve unter Thomas keuchenden Brüllen mitten in Frau Schneiders überlegen
lächelndes Gesicht. „Jaaaaaaaaa!!!" triumphierte Sylvia mit weit geöffnetem
Mund und versuchte mit ihrer langen Zunge, die weiter sprudelnden
Spermaschübe direkt in ihren unersättlichen Mund zu leiten. „Gib es
Mutti, mein Liebling!" gurgelte sie liebestrunken, während ihre linke Hand
inzwischen von den sich leerenden Hoden zum mächtig zuckenden Penisstamm
gewechselt war, um diesem auch die letzten Reste an frischem Ejakulat
kräftig wichsend zu entlocken. „Ich kann ohne deine Saft nicht mehr
leben!" sprach sie mit merkwürdig verklärtem Blick und sah Thomas direkt
in die Augen. Es war für Thomas ein Anblick, den er nie würde vergessen
können und wollen: Die Mutter seines besten Freundes leckte und wichste
zärtlich an seinem absaimenden Schwanz, während ihr edles Gesicht nahezu
komplett von seiner weißen Eiersoße bedeckt war und der warme Saft ihr
langsam an Wangen und Hals hinunterlief. Auch ihre zerzaustes,
platinblondes Haar war von Samenspritzern durchzogen und ihr dankbarer
Blick, sowie ihre warmen Worte verrieten dem leer gepumpten Teenager, wie
sehr die reife Frau es genoss, von ihm dermaßen hemmungslos besamt worden
zu sein. „Ich liebe es, wenn du dich über mir ergießt," lächelte Frau
Schneider und ließ ihren rechten Mittelfinger langsam aus Thomas After
gleiten, um sich mit den Langnageligen Fingern der rechten Hand seinen
Samen aus dem besudelten Gesicht zu wischen. Anschließend schob sie sich
die Sperma verschmierten Finger einzeln in den betörenden Mund und
lutschte sie sorgfältig sauber. Ebenso gründlich säuberten ihre vollen
Lippen danach den inzwischen halbsteifen Penis ihres jungen Geliebten und
mit ihren geschickten Händen befreite sie ihn von dem silbernen Penisring
und den festgeschnürten Lederriemen. Als sie damit fertig war, rutschte
sie behände unter dem erschöpft über ihr knienden Thomas empor und ihre
Samen glänzenden Lippen suchte die seinen, um ihm für heute ein letztes
Mal für die empfangenen Wonnen zu danken. „Es wird Zeit, wir sollten wohl
beide noch mal schnell unter die Dusche! Der Urlaub hat ja erst begonnen
und Mutti hat noch viel mit dir vor!" raunte Frau Schneider lächelnd als
von weiter Ferne das Brummen eines großen Motorbootes langsam näher kam…
…to be continued ?
---------------------------------------------------- - --- -
seVac - erotische Geschichten im Netz!
http://www.seVac.com
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Die Nagelprobe
Written by Tommy, (putzer12345678@aol.com)
Die Nagelprobe
Es ist schon ein paar Jahre her, und ich weis eigentlich nicht genau wo ich beginnen soll... am besten mit dem Tag im späten September . Über meine Neigung war ich mir damals schon lange im klaren, alles drehte sich in meiner Phantasie um schöne Frauenhände mit extrem langen Fingernägeln. Sie anzusehen, zu berühren, zu liebkosen aber auch leichten Schmerz durch sie zu empfangen das war alles was ich wollte. Des weiteren liebte ich es wenn der erlösende Orgasmus, bedingt durch geschickte ständige Reizung im gefesselten Zustand, ewig lange auf sich warten lies... Leider, und das kennt jeder Fetischist, ist es nicht so einfach über seine Neigung frei zusprechen. Vor allem da ich damals gerade erst kurz vor meinem 17. Geburtstag stand und wirklich keine Ahnung hatte was alles möglich ist... Damals, ich ging schon in die Lehre, war mein ganzer Stolz ein eigener Fernseher und Videogerät. Nächtelang sah ich mit Pornoviedeos an, die ich aus einer Videothek in der ich ein falsches Geburtsdatum angab, entlieh. Bei allen Filmen die ich entlieh achtete ich steht darauf, das die Damen lange Nägel hatten. Die Dame, welche in der Videothek arbeitete, grinste meist schon wenn ich mit den
Filmanhängern zur Theke kam. Bemerkungen wie "Viel Spaß" waren noch die harmlosesten... . Sie fragte mich eines Tages nach welchem Muster ich die Filme auslieh. Ich antwortete etwas verlege das mir die Handlung (sofern es das bei Pornos überhaupt gibt) egal sei, Hauptsache lange Nägel! Doch zurück zu besagtem Tag im September. An jenem Tag sollte alles anderst werden... Die Angestellte, die sonst immer Dienst schob, war an diesem Tag nicht da; statt dessen sah ich, mit enger werdender Hose, eine Frauengestalt vor mir, die einer Göttin glich. Ca. 1,70 m groß, schwarze, lange und gelockte Haare, gebräunter Tein, eine umwerfende Figur, und, geradezu als Krönung, 2,5-3 cm lange, spitz zugefeilte, blutrot lackierte Fingernägel; nein, das waren wahrhaftig Krallen!! Ich konnte meinen Blick kaum von ihren Händen lassen. Immer wieder hörte ich dieses erregende klicken, wenn ein Nagel den anderen berührte. Mein Schwanz wurde härter und härter. "Abgeben?" fragte mich dieser wahrgewordene Traum einer Frau, mit Blick auf die Filme in meiner Hand, gelangweilt. Ich nickte nur, sprechen konnte ich nicht. Ich hatte nur einen Gedanken: WICHSEN!!! und dabei diese Nägel
anschauen!! (Die Dame ansprechen oder so, das hätte mich damals nie getraut) So ging ich also schnurstracks in die Ecke der Heimatfilme (wie unauffällig...), weil man von dort den besten Blick zur Theke hatte. Ein Blick nach links und recht, niemand zu sehen, schnell den Schwanz ausgepackt und losgewichst was das Zeug hielt natürlich mit ständigem Blick auf diese Supernägel. Die Dame, so schien es mir, beachtete mich nicht. Sie schaute stur nach unten unter die Theke. Als ich fast soweit war abzuspritzen entschwand Sie meinem Blickfeld... "Schei..." schoß es mir durch den Kopf "ausgerechnet jetzt". Ich beugte mich etwas hinter dem Regal vor, um die ganze länge der Theke einzusehen, aber Sie war weg. "Suchst Du mich, du kleiner Wichser"!!?? Erschrocken, mit offenem Hosenstall, den Schwanz in der Hand fuhr ich herum. Da stand Sie, mit wütendem Gesicht. "Hast du geglaubt ich merke das nicht"?? schnauzte Sie mich an "Schau mal da" mit ihrem überlangen Zeigefingernagel deutete Sie zur Decke. Ich starte in eine Kamera."Der Überwachungsmonitor steht unter der Theke" erklärte Sie. Ich wußte nicht was ich tun sollte, mein Schwanz bleib zu meiner Überraschung aber hart... . Sie trat zu mir und packte mich im Genick. Ich spürte ihre Nägel tief im Nacken. "Los komm mit" herrschte Sie und zog mich durch eine Tür in den Personalaufenthaltsraum. "Was soll ich mit dir jetzt machen?" überlegte Sie. Mir schossen Hunderte von Gedanken durch den Kopf, der schlimmste davon hieß Polizei..! Sie wiederholte ihre Worte: "Was soll ich jetzt mit dir machen"? Ihr Blick durchbohrte mich "Setz dich auf diesen Stuhl" befahl Sie und ich gehorcht augenblicklich. Sie erklärte mir das Sie von Ihrer Kollegin von meinem Nageltick wüsste. "Wenn das so ist, dann wirst du nachher noch was erleben..."! sprachs, drehte sich um und verlies den Raum. Ich hörte noch wie Sie die Tür zuschloß und
davonging. Alleine wie ich nun war , wurde mir schon ganz schön mulmig.. Was hatte Sie vor?? Polizei? Ihren Mann oder Freund holen?? Keine Ahnung!! Mir blieb nur eins, warten. -2- Klar, einerseits hatte ich mir so etwas immer gewünscht aber andererseits bekam ich immer mehr Schiß vor dem was wohl kommen würde.. Die Zeit verging, nichts rührte sich. Schon fast 21.00 Uhr, die Videothek schloss immer um diese Zeit... Stille, doch da, es klickte an der Tür und sie ging auf. Mich traf fast der Schlag; herein stolzierte die Dame auf hohen Hacken die Haare zur Löwenmähne auftoupiert, eine enge Lederkorsage am Körper die ihren vollen aber nicht zu grossen Busen umschmeichelte. Ein knapper Ledermini und Netzstrümpfe rundeten das Bild nach unten hin ab. Sie hatte einen kleinen Koffer in der Hand; oh diese Hände, schmal, lange Finger und noch längere Fingernägel... . Ohne etwas zu sagen öffnete Sie den Koffer und holte ein paar Seile heraus. Sie kamm auf mich zu und sprach: "So mein Kleiner, jetzt binde ich dich erst mal gut fest damit ich dich auch richtig geniessen kann..". Sie zeigte auf den Stuhl von dem ich mich bei Ihrem Eintreten erhoben hatte und wies mich an mich wieder zu setzen. Sie fesselte meine Hände hinter der Stuhllehne an dieselbe fest. Um den Hals legte Sie mir eine Schlinge und die Enden zog Sie unter dem Stuhl durch. Mit ihnen wurde der Bauch und die Oberschenkel fixiert. Meine Beine wurden gespreizt, die Füße nach hinten gezogen und an den hinteren Stuhlbeinen angebunden. Bei jedem Versuch mich zu erheben würgte ich mich nun selbst. Viel
Bewegungsfreiheit hatte ich wirklich nicht mehr, allerdings kamm durch diese Aktion wieder Leben in meinen Schwanz, der sich zusehens erhob. Nachdem Sie Ihr Werk vollendet hatte nahm Sie einen zweiten Stuhl und setzte sich mir gegenüber. Ich begann vor Erregung zu Zittern. "So, nun wollen wir doch mal sehen wie weit es mit deiner Freude an langen Fingernägeln her ist" meinte Sie und zog mir die Nägel Ihrer rechten Hand vom Schlüsselbein bis zum Nabel; vier zuerst dünne Striemen bildeten sich. "Du hast einfach ohne zu Fragen gewichst, das muss leider bestraft werden" führte Sie in schnippischem Ton fort. "Und was glaubst Du wo ich dich bestrafen werde"? "Genau, an deinem Gehänge"! Sie zog die Vorhaut zurück und setzte Ihre Nägel unterhalb der Eichel an der Ringfurche an. Quälend langsam zog sie Ihre Krallen über die Eichel. "Ahhhhhh" stöhnte ich auf. "Tuts gut"? fragte Sie scheinheilig "na dann...". Sie nahm mein Eichelbändchen zwischen Daumen und Zeigefingernagel und "knippelte" daran, zog es in die länge und drehte Ihre Hand. Ich konnte mich nicht länger beherrschen und schrie auf. "Na, bist du wohl ruhig"! herrschte Sie mich an. "Brauchst wohl unbedingt einen Knebel"!? Sie zog aus Ihrem Koffer einen BH mit Bügeln hervor und den stopfte Sie mir, nachdem Sie mich mit leichter Gewalt Ihren Nägeln an meinen Backen davon überzeugt hatte den Mund aufzumachen, freudig in den Mund. Die Bügel drückten besonders unangenehm auf meinen Kiefer. Ich konnte allerdings wenig Protest melden, da Sie mit einem Nylonstrumpf das ganze bereits fixierte. So ruhig gestellt war ich Ihren weiteren Attacken ausgeliefert...und die kammen! Sie fing in meinem Gesicht an. Drückte die scharfen Spitzen Ihren Nägel immer wieder auf meine Stirn, die Schläfen und die Backen. Dann fuhr Sie mit Daumen und Zeigefingernagel in meine Nase um kräftig zuzukneifen. Tränen schossen mir in die Augen; Sie berührte das nicht - im Gegenteil- je mehr Aufruhr mein Körper zeigte, umso heftiger Malträtierte sie ihn. Ihre andere Hand suchte inzwischen in meinem Hemd nach meinen Brustwarzen um diese, zumindest kam es mir so vor, "abzuknipsen"!! Dann widmete Sie sich wieder meinem Gehänge zu. Zuerst zart kraulen dann immer stärker kratzend bearbeitete Sie meinen Hodensack, mit der anderen Hand wichste Sie meinen Schwanz. Ich wurde immer erregter und merkte gleich würde es mir kommen; aber weit gefehlt. Sie merkte dies natürlich ebenso und kurz vor dem Abspritzen lies Sie von meinen Hoden ab um sehr kräftig in die freigelegte Eichel zu krallen. Dieser Schmerz unterdrückte absolut jeden Höhepunkt. Gleich nachdem ich mich einigermaßen von dieser
Attacke erholt hatte fing Sie ihr Spiel wieder an und wichste bis kurz vor den Höhepunkt um dann meine Eichel mit Ihren Fingernägeln zu bearbeiten das mir abermals jedes Spritzen verging. Ich weis nicht wie oft Sie Ihr teuflisches Spiel mit mir trieb, zum Schluß hing ich nur noch schwitzend und keuchend auf meinem Stuhl. Dann hatte Sie eine andere Idee: Sie steckte den Nagel Ihres kleinen Fingers in die kleine Öffnung meiner Harnröhre, wichste mich aber ständig weiter. Sie beobachtete meine Reaktion sehr genau und als Sie merkte das der Höhepunkt mal wieder fast erreicht war, drehte Sie ihren kleinen Finger...!!! Der Schmerz kamm aus dem Innersten. Es wahr der absolute Wahnsinn, Lust und Schmerz räumlich so dicht beieinander. Der übersensibilisierte Schwanz, der bei der nächsten Berührung Abspritze und gleichzeitig der ziehende Schmerz in der Mitte des Schwanzes, der Harnröhre. -3- Ich zog die Luft ein und blickte Sie an. Sie lächelte. Sie wußte wie es um mich stand. Ich wollte Spritzen, nur noch spritzen aber Sie lies es nicht zu. Ständig reizte Sie mich weiter und kühlte mich mit Schmerzen ab. Dann lies Sie auf einmal von mir ab. Ich glaubte eine Welt geht unter; Sie kann mich doch nicht in diesem zustand lassen... . Aber Sie konnte. Sie lies sich viel Zeit bis ich mich wieder beruhigt hatte. Dann griff Sie abermals in Ihre Tasche und holte ein Massagegerät heraus. Am
Schwingkopf war eine Manschette angebracht und ich ahnte schon was mir bevorstand... . Die Manschette passte wunderbar um meine bloße Eichel. Sie stülpte sie also darüber und schaltete mit einem Lächeln den Rotiermechanismus ein. Mich durchzuckten Blitze, anders kann mann es nicht beschreiben. Nach knappen 20 sec. war ich bereit zum spritzen. "Nana, wer wird den die Beherrschung verlieren" war Ihr Kommentar als Sie abschaltete und mich schmoren lies. Sie lies mich kurz Ihre Nägeln am Schaft spüren um dann wieder das Massagegerät einzuschalten. Diesmal schaltete Sie allerdings, als sich mein Höhepunkt ankündigte, nicht aus, sondern lies mich mechanisch melken. Sie schaltete auch nach meinem Höhepunkt nicht ab sonder sagte: "Jetzt kommt die eigentliche Strafe, nämlich eine Stunde Massage an der Eichel. Viel Spaß"!! Mit diesen Worten ging Sie zur Tür hinaus und lies mich gefesselt zurück. Ich wollte noch Protestieren aber der nächste Höhepunkt stand schon an.....!!
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Die Nagelprobe_Molicker
Die Nagelprobe Teil 01
by molicker
(dedicated to Bernd, the Nailhunter - Brother in mind!)
Bernd und Dirk waren gerade dabei, im Computerraum des Jungeninternates auf ihren bevorzugten Seiten zu surfen, als der Internatsleiter den Raum betrat und die beiden 18jährigen darüber informierte, dass Besuch für sie in der großen Eingangshalle wartete. Die Zwillingsbrüder sahen sich erstaunt an und folgten ihrem Rektor grübelnd in die Empfangshalle. Dort angekommen erblickten sie in der Mitte stehend eine Großgewachsene, sehr elegant gekleidete Frau mittleren Alters, deren platinblondes, langes Haar in weichen Wellen auf ihre schlanken Schultern viel und hinter ihrem Rücken fast bis zu ihrem wohlgeformten Heckteil reichte. Als sie sich zu ihnen umdrehte und ein zufriedenes Lächeln ihre vollen, pink geschminkten Lippen umspielte, erkannten sie ihre Besucherin sofort und gingen ihr eilig entgegen.
„Hallo Tante Lena! Das ist aber eine Überraschung!" war Bernd der erste, der seiner Verwunderung Ausdruck verlieh und sein Bruder ergänzte mit fragendem Blick: „Ja ehrlich! Was machst Du denn hier?"
Lena deWinter stemmte mit gespielter Entrüstung ihre Arme in die, unter der schlanken Wespentaille ausladenden Hüften. „Na sagt mal Jungs, begrüßt man denn so seine Lieblingstante? Ich dachte, ihr würdet hier zu höflichen jungen Männern erzogen!" Dabei trat sie einen Schritt vor und deutete mit den Zeigefingern auf ihre, von reichlich Make-up bedeckten Wangen. „Eure Tante hat doch wohl einen Begrüßungskuss verdient, oder?"
Die Jungs näherten sich ihr etwas zögerlich und hauchten der atemberaubend aussehenden Blondine nach einander schüchtern einen Kuss auf die Wangen. Es war ihnen sichtlich peinlich, denn schließlich stand ihr Internatsleiter nur wenige Schritte entfernt und beobachtete die Szenerie mit Argusaugen.
„Na also, dass war doch wohl nicht so schlimm!" lächelte Lena zufrieden und drückte die 2 nacheinander fest an sich. Die innigen Umarmungen ließen die Verlegenheit von Bernd und Dirk nicht gerade schwinden und als Lena ihre Neffen, deren unsicher blickende Gesichter immer roter wurden, wieder aus ihrer Umklammerung entließ, waren diese sichtlich erleichtert.
„Lieber Herr Wagner, wäre es vielleicht möglich, dass ich mit meinen Neffen einen Moment unter 6 Augen reden könnte? Wir beide haben doch soweit alles geklärt, nicht wahr?" sprach Lena den um fast einen Kopf kleineren Rektor freundlich an. „Äh - ja - natürlich, gern Frau deWinter!" stotterte der ältere Mann, wie aus einem Tagtraum gerissen, hervor. „Sie dürfen gern mein Büro benutzen, da sind sie völlig ungestört." Zu den Jungs gewand sagte er eilig: „Los - los, zeigt eurer Tante den Weg. Hier, nehmt meinen Schlüssel, ich bin so lange in der Bibliothek. Auf Wiedersehen Frau deWinter" verabschiedete er sich noch höflich und verschwand in einem der abzweigenden Gänge.
Bernd und Dirk gingen auf Ihren Turnschuhen fast lautlos über den gekachelten Fußboden der Eingangshalle direkt auf das angrenzende Rektorat zu, während Lena ihnen mit laut klackenden Pfennigabsätzen ihrer kniehohen, schneeweißen Stiefel auf dem Fuße folgte. Mit leicht zittrigen Händen steckte Dirk den Schlüssel ins Schloss und öffnete die schwere Eichentür zum Büro. Nach ihm betrat seine Tante den Raum, gefolgt von Bernd, der die Tür wieder hinter sich schloss. Elegant, wie eine Königin durchschritt Lena das große Arbeitszimmer und ließ ihren Blick dabei über die antike Einrichtung, mit einem übergroßen, massiven Edelholzschreibtisch, dem dahinter postierten Chefsessel und Raum hohem Bücherregal, sowie einer zweisitzigen schwarzen Ledercouch mit vorgestelltem Beistelltischchen schweifen. Ihr aufdringliches Parfüm verwandelte die ohnehin ziemlich warme Luft im Büro in einen schwülstigen Dunst, der die Gedanken der beiden Jungen umnebelte und sie wie angewurzelt vor der wieder verschlossenen Tür verharren lies.
Lena drehte sich langsam zu den Zwillingen, die sie wie hypnotisiert anstarrten, um und sagte mit rauchiger Stimme: „Was steht ihr da rum, ihr zwei Hübschen? Kommt her und setzt euch auf die Couch. Ich habe was mit euch zu besprechen!" Die Brüder folgten den Anweisungen ihrer Tante und während diese in einem einzelnen, ledernen Ohrensessel Platz nahm, setzten sie sich nebeneinander auf das gegenüber stehende Sofa.
„Darf man hier rauchen?" fragte Lena kurz und holte, ohne eine Antwort abzuwarten ein rotes Zigarettenetui, sowie ein teuer aussehendes Feuerzeug aus ihrer weißen Handtasche.
„Eigentlich ist auf dem ganzen Schulgelände das Rauchen strengstens verboten", antwortete Dirk besorgt und sein Bruder fügte hinzu, „Wer beim Rauchen erwischt wird, bekommt eine Woche Nachsitzen und Stubenarrest aufgebrummt!"
Doch Lena lächelte nur süffisant und hielt den beiden mit der linken Hand das geöffnete Zigarettenetui entgegen, während sie in ihrer rechten das goldene Feuerzeug geschickt durch die Goldberingten Finger gleiten ließ. Dabei vielen die Blicke der Jungen erstmals bewusst auf die außergewöhnlichen Hände ihrer Tante und diese registrierte die fasziniert blickenden Stielaugen der 2 Teenager mit einem wissenden Funkeln in den Augen.
„Na los, nehmt schon! Ich werde euch schon nicht verpetzen und die Tür ist von innen verschlossen. Ihr wollt mir doch nicht erzählen, dass ihr noch nie heimlich geraucht habt, oder?" Die warme Stimme ihrer Tante hüllte die beiden Brüder ein, wie eine weiche Zudecke und ließ ihnen wohlige Schauer über den Rücken laufen.
Natürlich wusste Lena, weshalb ihre Neffen ihr unentwegt auf die frisch manikürten Hände starrten. Schließlich war sie die Besitzerin des größten Nagelstudios der Stadt und hatte reichlich Erfahrung damit, welche Wirkung perfekt gestylte Hände und Nägel auf viele Männer, aber ebenso auch auf Frauen hatten.
Lenas Fingernägel waren in einem knalligen Pink lackiert und ragten an jedem ohnehin schon langen Finger nochmals 3 - 4 cm über die Kuppe hinaus. Da sie eine leichte Neigung nach unten hatten, war nicht zu erkennen, ob sie echt oder unecht waren, doch daran verschwendeten die beiden Brüder keinen Gedankten. Sie waren gefangen von dem lasziven Anblick dieser göttlichen Krallen, die nun nach den extralangen Damenzigaretten griffen und jedem von ihnen eine davon zwischen die halb geöffneten Lippen steckte.
Eine dritte Zigarette ließ die atemberaubende Blondine zwischen 2 Krallen hin und her rollen, während sie die Filterseite wie in Zeitlupe an ihre, im gleichen Pink wie ihre Nägel bemalten, fleischigen Lippen führte und mit der anderen Hand das Feuerzeug entzündete. Sie hielt die züngelnde Flamme des Feuerzeugs direkt zwischen die, wie paralysiert auf ihre Hände starrenden Jungen und sagte mit milder Stimme: „Na, kommt. Ihr seit doch schon zwei große Jungs!" Die beiden zündeten ihre Zigaretten an der tänzelnden Flamme an und lehnten sich sodann entspannt zurück.
„Na, seht ihr!" schnurrte Lena und entzündete ihre eigene Zigarette genüsslich inhalierend, „War doch gar nicht so schlimm!" Sie lehnte sich ebenfalls in dem großen Ohrensessel zurück und ließ den Rauch langsam aus ihren, zu einem kreisrunden O geformten Lippen entweichen. Da ihre Neffen sich nach und nach zu entspannen schienen, blieben Lena die wachsenden Beulen in deren engen Jeanshosen nicht verborgen und sie beschloss, dem Wachstum in den Lenden der blutjungen Männer noch etwas nachzuhelfen.
Mit einer Hand öffnete sie das Oberteil ihres knallengen, weißen Lederkostüms, so dass ihre fulminante Oberweite mehr und mehr aus dem darunter sitzenden, ebenso schneeweißen Rüschenbustier heraus quellte. „Ziemlich heiß hier, oder?" fragte sie, wie zur Entschuldigung, als das weit geöffnete Ledersakko die Blicke der beiden Brüder wie automatisch in das Tiefe, enge Tal zwischen den formvollendeten Brüsten ihrer Tante lenkte.
Lena zog noch einmal tief an ihrer Zigarette und sprach dann, nahezu ohne Luft zu holen, wobei ihre Worte von den ungläubig staunenden Zwillingen zwar gehört aber wohl erst viel später auch verstanden wurden: „So Jungs, dann will ich mal endlich die Katze aus dem Sack lassen! Wie ihr ja sicher wisst, habe ich einen gut gehenden Nail- und Beautysalon in der Innenstadt und ich habe mir überlegt, ob ich mich nicht vergrößern sollte. Euer Onkel und ich haben uns vor kurzem getrennt, weil er sich nie damit abfinden konnte, dass seine Frau eine erfolgreiche Geschäftsfrau ist und auf eigenen Füßen steht. Wir haben uns geeinigt, dass er das Haus und die Möbel behält und mir meinen Anteil auszahlt. Dieses Geld möchte ich jetzt in mein Geschäft investieren, das heißt, ich stelle mir vor, in jeder deutschen Großstadt einen Schönheitssalon zu eröffnen und habe auch schon viel versprechende Verhandlungen mit einem amerikanischen Beautykonzern über einen Exklusivvertrag für den Vertrieb ihrer Produkte in Europa geführt. Was mir allerdings noch fehlt, ist ein wenig männlicher Beistand. Das heißt, für die Bereiche IT und Finanzen benötige ich noch Spezialisten, denen ich voll und ganz vertrauen kann und da ich weiß, dass ihr zwei gerade euer Abitur mit Auszeichnung in eben diesen Spezialgebieten bestanden habt, kam mir die Idee, meine 2 Neffen zu meinen persönlichen Assistenten zu machen, denn Blut ist bekanntlich dicker als Wasser!" Nach einer kleinen Pause, in der sie nochmals tief an ihrer Zigarette zog, ehe sie diese in dem kleinen Aschenbecher auf dem Beistelltisch ausdrückte, legte sie ihre bildschönen Hände mit gespreizten Fingern auf den Rocksaum und den darunter hervor lugenden Ansatz ihrer halterlosen, weißen Nylonstrümpfe und fragte die, sie atemlos anstarrenden Brüder: „Na, was haltet ihr davon?"
Bernd und Dirk sahen sich kurz an und wussten nicht, ob sie träumten oder wach waren. Hatte ihnen diese Traumfrau, die wahrscheinlich jeden Mann den sie wollte, nur mit einem Blick in die Augen in ihren Bann ziehen konnte, soeben einen Job angeboten, der allein schon unglaublich aufregend klang? Das diese Frau, die die fleischgewordene Sünde in Person zu sein schien, zudem auch noch ihrer beider Tante, die jüngere Schwester ihrer verstorbenen Mutter und die letzte Blutsverwandte der beiden war, verwirrte die beiden um so mehr und keiner von beiden wusste auch nur annähernd, was er ihr antworten sollte.
Lena erkannte an den begehrlichen Blicken ihrer Neffen und deren unbeholfenen Versuchen, ihre bemerkenswerten Erektionen durch nervöses hin und herrücken zu verbergen, dass es Zeit wahr, mit ihrem zuvor gefassten Plan fort zufahren und mit gespieltem Ernst in der Stimme durchbrach sie die knisternde Stille: „Nun, wenn auch ihr beiden nicht antworten wollt oder könnt, so sprechen doch die dicken Beulen in euren Hosen für eine erfahrene Frau wie mich eine eindeutige Sprache!" Fast unbemerkt öffnete sie die letzten Knöpfe ihres Blazers und ließ diesen spielerisch über ihre nackten Schultern gleiten.
„Warum kommt ihr nicht her und zeigt eurer Lieblingstante, was für große kräftige Jungen ihr geworden seid?" Dabei spreizte sie schamlos die zuvor übereinander geschlagenen Beine und präsentierte den staunenden Brüdern ihre unbedeckte, Glattrasierte Luxusmöse, deren äußere Schamlippen von jeweils 2 kleinen Goldringen durchstoßen waren, an denen kurze, goldene Kettchen mit am Ende baumelnden Kristallkügelchen hingen. Am oberen Ansatz ihrer feucht schimmernden Spalte stach ein etwas größerer Goldring hervor, welcher die, unter einer rosa Hautfalte verborgene Lustperle perfekt umrahmte.
Die beiden Brüder stöhnten bei diesem Anblick dumpf auf und während die auf dem breiten Ledersessels zurückgelehnte Frau ihre Prachtbrüste aus den Halbschalen ihres Bustiers schälte, um sie sinnlich seufzend mittels ihrer Langnageligen Finger zu wiegen und zu pressen, erhoben sich die Zwillinge wie in Trance und gingen im Gleichschritt auf die begehrlich auf ihren Schritt blickende Tante zu. Erst, als sie kurz vor ihr standen, erkannten sie ein weiteres Detail an der sinnlich erotischen Aufmachung dieses wahren Luxusweibes, welches ihre hart geschwollenen Schwänze fast von allein zum Platzen brachte:
Ebenso wie an ihren rot geschwollenen Schamlippen hatte Tante Lena ihre dunkelrosa farbigen Nippel, die inmitten der kreisrunden Warzenhöfe stocksteif herausragten, mit je einem Goldring piercen lassen und während ihre rosa Krallen zart aber bestimmt an eben diesen Ringen zupften, stöhnte sie tief und leckte sich sinnlich über die breiten Lippen.
„Packt endlich eure harten Schwänze aus!" fuhr sie die regungslos vor ihr stehenden Jungen harsch an und während diese ihrer Aufforderung hektisch folgten, öffnete Lena mit einer raschen Bewegung den Verschluss ihrer extralangen Perlenkette, die einige Male um ihren schlanken Hals geschwungen war und im verheißungsvollen Dunkel ihrer voluminösen Busenspalte verschwand. Lena umwickelte ihre ,mit wertvollen Armreifen bedeckten Handgelenke doppelt mit dem offenen Kettenende und führte dieses dann durch die Ringe an beiden Nippeln und der stetig größer werdenden Klitoris, um sie anschließend wieder mit einem leisen Klicken zu verschließen.
Das wahrscheinlich sündhaft teure Naturperlenschmuckstück bildete eine Art Dreieck auf dem Luxuskörper der reifen Blondine und verband die hochsensiblen Zentren ihres Lustempfindens wie ein magisches Band. Wenn Lena nun ihre Hände nur ein paar Zentimeter bewegte, liefen die kühlen, glatten Perlen über ihre hochsensiblen Warzen und den pochenden Lustknoten ihrer malerischen Möse, so dass ihr jede Bewegung einen lustvollen Schauer bescherte.
Mit glasigem Blick, tief in die Augen ihrer strammstehenden Neffen und bebender Stimme sagte sie feierlich: „Gebt eurer lieben Tante, wonach sie sich schon so lange sehnt! Lasst mich eure harten Schwänze fühlen!!"
Majestätisch streckte Lena ihre schmuckvollen, Langnageligen Hände aus und umfasste von unten her die eindrucksvoll erigierten Glieder der beiden Jungen, so dass deren, von hervorgetretenen Lusttropfen glänzenden Eicheln auf ihren warmen Handflächen lagen. Die erfahrene Frau erkannte am Erregungsgrad ihrer zwei jungen Lustobjekte sofort, dass es nicht lange dauern konnte, bis sie den Lebenssaft aus ihren Lenden über sie ergießen würden und umschloss mit ihren Krallenfingern deren pulsierende Schäfte nur mit leichtem Druck.
Dirk und Bernd stöhnten gleichsam inbrünstig auf und konnten die fassungslosen Blicke nicht von den betörend schönen Händen und dem sündigen Körper ihrer Tante abwenden, die ihre hammerharten Schwänze mit langsamen Vor- und Rückwärtsbewegungen so unendlich gefühlvoll massierte.
„Gefällt das meinen beiden Jungs? Mögt ihr es, wie eure Tante euch die harten Riemen wichst?" fragte Lena mit erhobener Stimme unter dem leisen Klacken der, durch ihre Piercingringe wandernden Perlenkette. Ein tiefes und lang gezogenes: „Jaaaaaa Tante!" aus beider Kehlen beantwortete dies sogleich und wie zur Bestätigung sonderten beide, dick geschwollenen Nillen einen weiteren Schwall glasklarer Vorfreude auf die langsam fester zupackenden Finger ab, welche diese sofort über die kompletten Schäfte verteilten.
Je kräftiger Lena die jugendlichen Liebesknochen ihrer Neffen melkte, umso heftiger zogen und zerrten die Ringe an ihren dick angeschwollenen Nippeln und der weit hervorgetretenen Klitoris, so dass auch ihr Höhepunkt kurz bevor stand. Sie wollte jedoch sich selbst, sowie ihre beiden Opfer noch ein wenig länger zappeln lassen, um sich an deren jugendlicher Geilheit zu ergötzen und so wanderten ihre erfahrenen Hände an den dick adrigen Schäften hinab, bis ihre pink glänzenden Fingernägel sanft gegen die faltige Haut von 2 prall gefüllten Hodensäcke stießen.
„Ihr habt zwei wirklich prachtvolle Schwänze! Eure Tante ist sehr stolz auf euch!" schnurrte sie kehlig, während sie die dicken Hoden der schwer atmenden Brüder durch ihre zarten Finger gleiten lies und sie prüfend auf und abwog.
„Es ist das erste Mal für euch, dass eine Frau euch so berührt, nicht wahr?" Ihre strahlenden Augen bohrten sich in die halb zusammen gekniffenen, um Erlösung bettelnden Blicke ihrer Neffen. Beide nickten abermals wie abgesprochen und sahen, wie sich das teuflisch grinsende Superweib vor ihnen genussvoll mit ihrer langen, feuchten Zunge über die vollen, rosaroten Lippen leckte.
„Ich wette, ihr möchtet jetzt abspritzen, oder? Wollt ihr euren heißen Saft auf eure liebe Tante spritzen? Ich will, dass ihr eure harten Spritzkolben so lange abwichst, bis kein Tropfen mehr in euren dicken, schweren Eiern ist? Ihr sollt meine dicken Titten und mein hübsches Gesicht in eurer dampfenden Ficksahne baden!" Ihre Worte prasselten wie Maschinengewehrfeuer auf die, vor Erregung zitternden Jungen ein und verfehlten nicht ihre beabsichtigte Wirkung.
„NA LOS JETZT! SCHENKT MIR EUREN SAMEN, IHR GEILEN SCHWÄNZE!!!!!!!!!"
Bernd und Dirk spürten unisono den gallertartigen Saft durch ihre zuckenden Lenden schießen und pumpten die Schäfte in ihren zusammengepressten Fäusten. Lena hatte die Testikel der Brüder aus ihrem Fanggriff entlassen und hielt ihre fantastischen Hände direkt unter deren Purpur leuchtenden Schwanzköpfe.
Wie auf Kommando, schossen dicke , schneeweiße Strahlen von jungem, potenten Lebenssaft im Gleichtakt und mit Hochdruck aus den wild zuckenden Riemen und klatschen in hohen Bögen gegen das verzückt blickende Gesicht und die aufnahmebereit herausgestreckten Brüste der sich im eigenen Orgasmus windenden, reifen Luxusfrau.
„Oh jaaaa! Spritzt mich voll - gebt mir alles was ihr habt!!!" stieß Lena dumpf grunzend hervor und streckte ihre gierige Zunge den, unablässig weiter auf sie einprasselnden Spermafontänen entgegen. Laut schmatzend schluckte sie so viel des nahrhaften Nektars, wie sie erwischen konnte und als die Schübe aus den leer gepumpten Spritzrohren ihrer Neffen langsam abebbten, trachteten ihre langen, pink lackierten Nägel nach den letzten, aus den Eichellöchern austretenden Tropfen.
„Ihr schmeckt wirklich einmalig! Davon könnte ich glatt süchtig werden!" murmelte sie gedankenverloren, während ihre betörenden Hände die gröbsten Spuren des jungen Lustsudes von Brüsten und Gesicht klaubten und die befriedigte Traumfrau sich den Nektar danach lüstern von den Fingern schleckte.
Es dauerte eine Weile, bis ihr Gesicht und ihr Saft verklebtes Haar wieder einigermaßen von den Orgasmusspuren ihrer Neffen gesäubert waren, bis Lena sich schließlich erhob, die halbsteifen Schwänze ihrer Neffen noch einmal zärtlich in die Hände nahm und sie sanft drückte.
„Na, was meint ihr? Wollt ihr mir bei meinem Plan helfen und meine persönlichen Mitarbeiter werden?" fragte sie mit einem Blick, der Stahl schmelzen lassen würde.
„Ja, Tante ..." antwortete Bernd als Erster. „...alles was du willst!" kam es auch aus Dirk wie aus der Pistole geschossen. Lena gab beiden einen kurzen aber mehr als heftigen Kuss auf die Lippen und lies glücklich seufzend ihre Sperma getränkte Zunge durch die Mundhöhlen ihrer neuen Eroberungen wandern.
„Na, dann mal los, meine Herren! Ich habe mit eurem Rektor schon alles geklärt. Beeilt euch und packt eure Sachen. Unser Flug nach Las Vegas geht in 3 Stunden!" unterbrach sie das sinnlich Treiben schließlich und gab jedem einen klatschen Schlag auf den nackten Hintern.
Die beiden Jungen trugen ein Grinsen vor sich her, als wären ihre Gesichter aus Stein gemeißelt. Wie nach einem Tor beim Fußball gaben sich die Zwillinge „Fünf" und eilten in ihr Zimmer. Lena indes richtete ihr Haar und ihre Kleidung einigermaßen her, um anschließend in ihrem schicken Z3 Cabrio auf die 2 zu warten.
Alles lief perfekt nach ihrem Plan und bei dem Gedanken daran, welche Abenteuer sie mit ihren beiden hochbegabten und ebenso potenten Neffen noch erwarten würde, lief ihr der duftende Mösensaft auf die schwarzen Ledersitze...
(to be continued)
Die Nagelprobe Teil 02
by molicker
Nachdem Bernd und Dirk in Windeseile ihre persönlichen Sachen und Wertgegenstände in 2 Koffern und mehreren Taschen zusammengepackt und sich von einigen Internatsmitschülern eiligst verabschiedet hatten, fuhren sie, von vielen neidvollen Blicken begleitet mit der heißesten Frau, die jemals die Mauern dieses alterwürdigen Bauwerkes betreten hatte, in deren 5er Cabrio laut hupend davon.
Lena deWinter genoss die bewundernden Blicke der, an den Fenstern klebenden Freunde und Klassenkameraden ihrer Neffen und malte sich aus, wie diese wohl heute Nacht wieder heimlich unter der Bettdecke in Gedanken an sie ihre jungen, nimmermüden Schwänze bearbeiteten würden, um ihren aufgestauten Saft schließlich wild in die weißen Laken zu spritzen. „Was für eine Verschwendung!" dachte sie still bei sich und malte sich aus, was es wohl für ein Gefühl währe, sich ihren formvollendeten, reifen Luxuskörper, sowie ihr ebenso perfekt gestyltes und von ihrer platinblonden Löwenmähne umrahmtes Gesicht von 20 oder 30 dieser kraftstrotzenden Junghengste von oben bis unten besamen zu lassen.
Allein der Gedanke daran, ließ die Säfte in ihrer blank rasierten, nimmersatten Möse sprudeln und sie musste sich mit aller Macht zurückhalten, um nicht während der Fahrt mit ihren pink lackierten Krallenfingern zwischen ihre schlanken Beine zu greifen und ihre Lustknospe bis zu einem schnellen Höhepunkt zu pushen. „Reiß dich zusammen, Lena! Was sollen die Jungs von dir denken!" sprach sie abermals leise zu sich selbst und versuchte sich, mit ein wenig Smalltalk mit ihren, im Heck des Wagens sitzenden Neffen.
Nach eine Weile hatte sie die beiden komplett über deren Interessen und Vorlieben ausgequetscht und dabei auch nicht vergessen, ganz beiläufig einige Fragen zu den bisherigen sexuellen Erfahrungen der Zwillinge einzustreuen. Dabei kam langsam heraus, das Bernd und Dirk auf diesem Gebiet noch nahezu ‚unbefleckt' waren und dass das kurze aber heftige Erlebnis mit ihrer Tante im Arbeitszimmer ihres Rektors so ziemlich der erste Kontakt für die beiden mit dem weiblichen Geschlecht gewesen war.
Das war genau das, was Lena zu erfahren gehofft hatte. Sie hatte hier 2 ungeschliffene Rohdiamanten in ihre scharfen Krallen bekommen, denen sie Stück für Stück ihre fast noch kindliche Unschuld rauben wollte und die ihren Hunger nach junger, ungezügelter Manneskraft ohne Zweifel befriedigen würden. Dafür würde sie schon sorgen. Doch bis es soweit war, musste Lena Geduld bewahren und durfte den beiden nicht zuviel zumuten. „Auch ein undressierter Wildhengst bekommt nicht gleich am ersten Tag den Sattel aufgelegt!" dachte sie mit einem Lächeln bei sich, doch dass sie die 2 nach allen Regeln der Kunst meisterhaft einreiten würde, stand für sie außer Frage.
Eine knappe halbe Stunde später saßen die 3 im VIP-Bereich des Frankfurter Flughafens und warteten darauf, dass ihre Maschine aufgerufen wurde, mit der sie Nonstop, selbstverständlich per 1. Klasse, im neuen Airbus 380 nach Las Vegas, Nevada fliegen sollten.
Lena nutzte die Zeit in der luxuriösen Wartehalle dazu, sich in den großzügigen Ruheräumen ihrer, von den Lustfontänen ihrer Neffen befleckten Bekleidung zu entledigen und wählte stattdessen ein etwas unauffälligeres Business Outfit, um nicht sofort von jedem der sie ansah, als das erkannt zu werden, was sie aus tiefster Seele und voller Leidenschaft in Wirklichkeit war: Eine spermasüchtige Luxusschlampe, der so ziemlich jedes Mittel recht war, um ihren Heißhunger nach sexueller Befriedigung und jungem Männersamen zu stillen.
Doch selbst, als sie in ihrem mausgrauen, zweiteiligen Kostüm wieder den Warteraum betrat, zog sie wie magisch die Blicke der anwesenden Männer und auch Frauen auf sich. Ihre üppigen, weiblichen Formen kamen auch in dem hochgeschlossenen Baumwoll-Jacket voll zur Geltung. Auf extrem hochhackigen, pechschwarzen Pumps und mit samtig schimmernden, halterlosen Nylons unter dem knallengen Strechrock durchschritt sie majestätisch mit schwingenden Hüften den Raum und gebot ihren Neffen mit einem einzigen Wink ihrer atemberaubenden Hände, ihr durch die eben geöffnete Gangway in das wartende Flugzeug zu folgen.
Dort wurden die 3 von einer extrem gut aussehenden, dunkelhäutigen Stewardess in Empfang genommen und auf ihre Plätze in der 1. Klasse begleitet. Diese befanden sich im vorderen Teil des Flugzeuges, direkt unter der Pilotenkanzel und waren durch eine Schallisolierte Trennwand von den hinteren Plätzen aus nicht einsehbar.
Bernd und Dirk vielen vor Staunen fast die Augen aus den Köpfen als sie den Luxus sahen, mit dem die mindestens 40 qm große Businesskabine ausgestattet war. Es gab 4 bequeme, in Liegeposition verstellbare Sessel an einer Wand, während an der anderen eine gemütliche, u-förmige Ledergarnitur mit einem teuren Marmortisch in der Mitte platziert war. In den Wänden waren gegenüberliegend 2 überdimensionale Flachbildschirme eingelassen, die von jeder Raumposition gut einsehbar waren. Hierzu gehörte eine komplette Surroundanlage und alle Sorten von Spielekonsolen. In einer abgetrennten Nische befand sich noch ein großer Schreibtisch mit 2 Bürosesseln, sowie 2 eingeschalteter Laptops.
„Es ist doch immer wieder von Vorteil, wenn eine gute Freundin bei der Lufthansa Chefstewardess ist!" strahlte Lena die neben ihr stehende Traumfrau an und diese umarmte sie herzlich. „Du weißt doch, dass ich für dich alles tue, was ich kann", antwortete die schokobraune Schönheit in akzentfreiem Deutsch und die beiden Frauen küssten sich auf die Wangen.
„Das sind übrigens meine beiden Neffen, Dirk und Bernd" bemerkte Lena und zwinkerte ihrer Freundin kurz zu. „Willkommen an Bord", begrüßte die junge Frau die Brüder strahlend. „Mein Name ist Veronica und wie ihr sicher bemerkt habt, kennen eure Tante Lena und ich uns schon eine ganze Weile." „Das ist wahr", stimmte ihr Lena lachend zu. „Mann könnte sagen, wir haben schon einiges miteinander durchgemacht - nicht wahr?"
Anstatt einer Antwort ergriff Veronika Lenas rechte Hand und führte sie an ihre vollen Lippen. Mit der Zunge fuhr sie am langen, pink lackierten Nagel von Lenas Mittelfinger entlang und seufzte leise: „Ich hoffe doch, dass wir das bald wiederholen können!" Lena nickte nur kurz und drückte die langmähnige Stewardess nochmals fest an sich. „Jetzt muss ich euch aber erstmal für eine Weile verlassen, die Arbeit ruft" erklärte Veronika und ging mit schwingenden Hüften an den staunenden Jungen vorbei in Richtung der Kabinentür.
„Macht es euch bequem und fühlt euch wie zu Hause" sagte sie und zeigte den bewundernd blickenden Teenagern ihr atemberaubendes Profil. „Wir werden bald starten und sobald ich ein wenig Zeit habe, bin ich wieder bei euch!" Damit verließ sie die 1. Class-Business-Suite und hinterließ 2, ihr mit halb offenen Mündern nachblickende Zwillinge.
Nachdem das Flugzeug gestartet war machten Bernd und Dirk sich mit den technischen Annehmlichkeiten der Kabine vertraut, während ihre Tante ihre Zeit damit verbrachte, sich die überlangen Fingernägel in hochglänzendem lila zu lackieren und auch ihr übriges Makeup darauf abzustimmen. Sie hatte es sich in einem der bequemen Liegesessel bequem gemacht und genoss die Ruhe und das leise Summen der Triebwerke in 10.000 Meter Höhe.
So waren alle mehr oder weniger mit sich selbst beschäftigt, bis nach ca. 1 Stunde die Kabinentür geöffnet wurde und Veronika mit einem Wagen voller erlesener Speisen und Getränke zurückkehrte. „Ich habe euch ein bisschen was mitgebracht!" trällerte sie fröhlich und tischte die Speisen auf. Dirk und Bernd verfolgten jede ihrer Bewegungen mit Argusaugen, was Lena nicht verborgen blieb.
„Setz dich doch zu uns und iss mit uns, meine Liebe!" lud sie Veronika ein und diese nahm dies dankend an. So saßen sie zu viert an einem mittelgroßen Esstisch, der zwischen den aufgestellten Liegesesseln heraus gefahren war und labten sich an den kulinarischen Köstlichkeiten. Dabei erfuhren die beiden Jungs, dass die Frauen sich vor etwa 2 Jahren in Lenas Nagelstudio kennen gelernt hatten und seit dem eine innige Freundschaft pflegten. Bei dem Wort ‚innig' legte Veronika ihre linke Hand in die Lenas und diese fuhr mit ihrem Zeigefinger langsam über deren, nur mit Klarlack manikürten, etwa 2 cm über die Kuppe reichenden Nägel.
Bernd und Dirk wurde abwechselnd heiß und kalt beim Anblick der 4 unglaublich erotisch wirkenden Frauenhände direkt neben sich und während die Freundinnen sich gegenseitig ihre Bewunderung über das tadellose Aussehen der jeweils anderen bekundeten, klebten die Blicke der beiden Teenager förmlich auf den sinnlich liebkosenden Handpaaren.
Nach einer Weile weckte Veronikas Stimme die beiden aus ihrer Tagträumerei: „Ich glaube, die Sonne verschwindet bald am Horizont. Hättet ihr beiden nicht Lust, euch das von der Pilotenkanzel aus anzusehen?" Die beiden bejahten natürlich sofort, denn die Chance, ins Cockpit eines Airbus 380 während eines Trans-Atlantik Fluges zu gelangen, würde sich Ihnen wahrscheinlich nicht so oft bieten.
Veronika begleitete die Brüder schließlich zum Cockpit und vereinbarte mit dem freundlichen Piloten, dass die Jungs eine Weile in der Kanzel verbringen durften. Anschließend ging sie noch einmal durch die anderen, nur mit wenigen Passagieren belegten Bereiche der 1. Klasse und betrat schließlich wieder die abgetrennte Suite, in der Lena bereits auf sie wartete.
Diese hatte es sich inzwischen ein wenig gemütlicher gemacht und ihren mausgrauen Blazer abgelegt. Die zuvor hochgeschlossene, weiße Bluse hatte sie bis zur Mitte aufgeknöpft, so dass darunter die steilen Hügel ihrer prachtvollen Oberweite deutlich sichtbar waren. Als sie Veronika hereinkommen sah, richtete Lena sich ein Stück weit auf und lächelte der sich nähernden Freundin verträumt entgegen.
„Hast du die beiden für eine Weile beschäftigt?" fragte sie mit vibrierender Stimme, während ihre sinnlichen Hände auch die restlichen Knöpfe ihres Oberteils öffneten.
„Ja, das hab' ich, mein Schöne!" antwortete Veronika knapp und entledigte sich ebenfalls in Windeseile ihrer Stewardessenuniform und der prall gefüllten Bluse. „Vielleicht wäre es aber auch ganz nett, wenn sie uns Gesellschaft leisten würden. Wie ich dich kenne, hast Du sie doch bestimmt schon auf ihre Standfestigkeit geprüft - oder?" Mit leicht gespreizten Beinen stand die Stewardess nun nur noch in ihrer weißen Spitzenunterwäsche, einem Halbschalen-Pushup-BH, hauchdünnem Tangaslip, halterlosen weißen Nylons und ebensolchen Lackpumps vor der verlangend blickenden Geschäftsfrau.
„Natürlich habe ich das! Wenn auch bisher nur ein einziges Mal und das relativ kurz. Sie sind halt noch sehr jung und ich muss aufpassen, dass ich sie nicht überfordere. Ich will ja schließlich noch lange was von ihnen haben!" Lasziv ließ sie die Bluse hinter sich gleiten und öffnete den Reißverschluss ihres knielangen Rocks. Mit einer raschen Bewegung stand sie auf und damit direkt vor der, mit dunkler Stimme hauchenden Veronika: „Na, meinetwegen - dann hab' ich dich wenigstens für mich allein!"
Die beiden Frauen umarmten sich zärtlich, während ihre vollen, dick geschminkten Lippen sich zu einem innig feuchten Kuss trafen, in dem ihre schlängelnden Zungen einander wild umspielten und aus beider Kehlen ein tiefes Seufzen drang. Veronika griff schließlich als erste in den Bund von Lenas engem Rock in streifte diesen mit einem kräftigen Ruck über die ausladenden Hüften der drallen Blondine. Die Langnageligen Hände der Frauen streichelten unablässig über Brüste, Schenkel und Po der jeweils anderen und die steigende Erregung beider war nahezu greifbar.
„Zeig mir deine wundervolle Muschi!" forderte Veronika die tief atmende Lena heiser auf. Lena setzte sich auf die weiche Kante des hinter ihr stehenden Sessels und spreizte ihre bestrumpften Beine vor der niederknienden Stewardess. Mit zwei Fingern ihrer rechten Hand teilte sie die äußeren, großen Schamlippen ihrer rasierten Liebesgrotte, während sie mit den Nagelspitzen der rechten an den gepiercten Nippeln ihrer schweren Brüste zupfte.
Nahezu andächtig betrachtete die dunkelhäutige Schönheit die sich vor ihr öffnende, rosa glänzende Spalte. „Komm und leck mich!" bat die vor Erregung zitternde Geschäftsfrau flehend, doch Veronika beließ es zunächst dabei, die geschwollenen Schamlippen des malerischen Loches mit ihren Fingerkuppen zu erkunden.
Bei der Berührung ihrer sensibelsten Zone durch die Finger ihrer Freundin durchfuhr Lena ein kribbelnder Schlag und ihr Verlangen, durch die weichen Lippen und gelenkige Zunge ihrer Gespielin zum Höhepunkt gebracht zu werden, steigerte sich ins Unermessliche.
„Natürlich werde ich dir dein süßes Fötzchen ausschlecken, meine Schöne! Doch vorher musst du mir versprechen, dass ich danach einen Wunsch bei dir frei habe!" forderte die farbige Traumfrau die sich vor ihr windende Blondine lüstern lächelnd auf.
„Alles! Alles was du willst! Ich tue, was immer du auch von mir verlangst! Aber jetzt lass mich bitte kommen!! Ich halte es nicht mehr aus!! LECK MEINE NASSE MÖSE!!!" Lena schrie fast hysterisch die letzten Worte hinaus und um die anderen Fluggäste nicht auf sich aufmerksam werden zu lassen, gab Veronika ihrem Betteln schließlich nach.
Mit einem satten Schmatzen vergrub sie ihr makelloses Gesicht in den nässenden Spalt der sich ihr förmlich entgegen werfenden Frau und ließ ihre lange spitze Zunge so weit sie konnte in deren rosarotes Liebesloch vorstoßen. Ein inbrünstiges „Ooooohhhhh!!!" entwich Lenas halbgeöffnetem Mund, während ihre Krallenartigen Hände in Veronikas dunkle Haarpracht griffen und ihren Kopf so fest sie konnte gegen ihren pulsierenden Unterleib zog.
Das Antlitz der hemmungslosen Flugbegleiterin wurde von den sprudelnden Säften der reifen Freundin dermaßen überschwemmt, dass sie zwischen lauter Schlürfen und Lecken kaum noch zum Luft holen kam. Ihre schlanken Hände, welche die glitzernden Mösenlippen Lenas so weit wie möglich gespreizt hielten, um ihrer suchenden Zunge das tiefstmögliche Vordringen zu ermöglichen, verließen den Platz zwischen den geöffneten Schenkeln langsam. Während die Linke nur ein kurzes Stück glitt und 2 lange Finger tief in die tropfnasse Lustgrotte tauchten, glitt die Rechte über Lenas flachen Bauch bis zu ihren vollreifen Brüsten, um diese abwechselnd druckvoll zu massieren und mit spitzen Nägeln die erigierten Warzen zu malträtieren.
Lenas Lustschreie wurden immer lauter und kamen in immer kürzeren Abständen, bis Veronikas unaufhaltsam weiter leckende Zunge schließlich das magische Zentrum ihrer Begierde, den Cent-Stück großen Kitzler erreichte und auf dem Knotenpunkt weiblichen Lustempfindens ein wahres Trommelfeuer lingualer Fertigkeiten vollführte.
Zusammen mit der manuellen Stimulation ihrer pochenden Geschlechtsteile brachte Veronikas Zungenspiel die keuchende Lena komplett um den Verstand und als sie in all den sie überflutenden Gefühlen noch spürte, wie ein langer Ringfinger sich durch ihren engen Schließmuskel, hinein in ihr ,vom eigenen Mösensaft durchtränktes Arschloch bohrte, verlor sie in einem ungeheueren Orgasmussturm fast die Besinnung.
Mit zusammen gebissenen Zähnen und weit aufgerissenen Augen, grunzte und stöhnte das zerfließende Weib ihren Höhepunkt hinaus und ließ das bildhübsche Gesicht der farbigen Stewardess in einem Sturzbach klarer, aromatisch duftender Fotzensoße baden.
Veronika leckte den köstlichen Saft wie eine hungrige Katze zufrieden knurrend auf und als Lenas durchgeschüttelter Körper sich langsam von dem gerade Erlebten zu erholen begann, küsste sie sich zärtlich und liebevoll an den prallen Rundungen empor, bis sich die zitternden Lippen der beiden Frauen zu einem nicht Enden wollenden Kuss vereinten.
„Du bist einfach unglaublich!" hauchte Lena der, sie eng umschlungen haltenden Freundin ins Ohr und beide lagen noch einige Minuten schweigend, nur mit den Langnageligen Fingerspitzen den Körper der Anderen liebkosend, beieinander.
„Du hast mir was versprochen!" brach Veronika schließlich ungeduldig das andächtige Schweigen. „Ja, mein Liebling, ich weiß!" antwortete Lena und blickte die Partnerin fragend an. „Sag' mir, was du möchtest. Womit kann ich dich so glücklich machen, wie du mich?"
„Ich möchte, dass ‚SIE' uns zusehen!" sagte Veronika energisch und Lena wusste sofort, wer mit ‚SIE' gemeint war. „Ich will, dass deine beiden Neffen sehen, wie ihre verhurte Tante meine nasse Möse und mein enges Arschloch leckt, bis ich ihr meinen edlen Fotzensaft ins Gesicht spritze! Ich will, dass die beiden ihre harten, jungen Schwänze dabei für uns wichsen und wenn ich es ihnen erlaube, dürfen sie uns ihren heißen Samen schenken!!"
Bei Veronikas eindringlich gesprochenen Worten war Lenas rechte Hand wie von selbst immer tiefer in Richtung ihres eigenen Lustzentrums gewandert und mittlerweile stöhnte sie leise aufgrund der erregenden Stimulation ihrer erfahrenen Finger. „Darf ich das als dein Einverständnis deuten?" fragte Veronika mit Blick auf die hemmungslos vor ihr masturbierende Freundin.
Lena schaute ihr mit glasigem Blick tief in die Augen und antwortete heiser: „Aber du darfst sie nur ansehen! Die beiden gehören mir und ich werde die Erste Frau sein, die an diesen göttlichen Riemen saugt und deren Löcher von ihnen gestopft werden! Doch das wird nicht hier und nicht jetzt sein. Mich haben sie heute schon einmal voll gespritzt und ich bin mir sicher, dass sie auch für dich noch genug Saft in den Eiern haben. Wenn du dich daran hältst, sind wir uns einig!"
Lächelnd stand Veronika auf und ging hinüber zum Bordtelefon, das an der Kabinenwand hing. Sie drückte die Nummer des Cockpits und bat den Funkoffizier, der sich am anderen Ende gemeldet hatte, die beiden Besucher wieder hinunter zu schicken.
Als es nach 5 Minuten an der Kabinentür klopfte, saß die dunkelhäutige Stewardess bereits breitbeinig auf Lenas Gesicht, welches tief zwischen ihren Schenkeln vergraben war und wo deren rosarote Zunge energisch den Pfad der Lust, von Veronikas enorm geschwollenen Kitzler, über die triefende Spalte bis zu ihrem dunklen, faltig glänzendem Poloch durchpflügte.
„Kommt rein!" antwortete Veronika zwischen leisem Stöhnen auf das wiederholte Klopfen und mit ungläubig blickenden, weit geöffneten Augen starrte das eintretende Brüderpaar auf den keine 4 Meter vor ihnen stattfindenden Lesbenakt.
Ihre Tante Lena lag rücklings auf dem waagerecht gestellten Liegesessel mit extrem weit gespreizten Beinen und ihre Langnageligen, lila glänzend lackierten Finger der linken Hand wanderten langsam zwischen ihren pink glitzernden Mösenlippen ein und aus. Mit der rechten Hand hielt sie die prallen Arschbacken der auf ihrem kaum sichtbaren Gesicht sitzenden Veronika gespreizt und an den lauten Schleck- und Schlürfgeräuschen war unschwer erkennbar, womit ihr weit geöffneter Mund gerade beschäftigt war.
Veronika stöhnte laut auf, als sie in den staunenden Blicken der beiden 18jährigen die rapide wachsende Erregung wahrnahm und erlebte selbst einen blitzartigen, leichten Orgasmus, bei dem sie ihr kreisendes Becken auf Lenas sämig glänzendem Gesicht fest vor und zurück bewegte.
Sie liebte es, beim Sex beobachtet zu werden und hätte sie nicht diesen gut bezahlten Job als Stewardess bekommen, wäre sie mit Sicherheit ein großer Star in der Pornobranche geworden. Denn nichts machte sie schärfer als der Gedanke, mit dem bloßen Anblick ihres kurvenreichen Körpers sowohl Männer als auch Frauen um den Verstand zu bringen.
„Zieht euch aus und kommt näher!" befahl die Sexbesessene Schönheit streng, als die Wogen ihres ersten Höhepunktes sich wieder glätteten und winkte die atemlos starrenden Jungen zu sich heran. Bernd und Dirk tauschten einen kurzen, schelmisch grinsenden Blick und waren in Windeseile nackt, wie Gott sie schuf.
Sollte dies der große Moment sein? Würden sie beide nun endlich zu richtigen Männern werden und von diesen beiden Traumfrauen in die zahllosen Geheimnisse der körperlichen Liebe eingeweiht werden? Sie beteten beide stumm, das dem so war und standen nun erwartungsvoll, mit waagerecht abstehenden Liebeslanzen an jeweils einer Seite der hemmungslos in ihrem unmoralischen Treiben fort fahrenden Weiber.
Die Nagelprobe Teil 02
by molicker
„Oh, mein Gott!!" entfuhr es der gebannt auf die, in Reichweite vor ihr pulsierenden, jungen Glieder starrenden Stewardess. „Hätte ich geahnt, dass ihr dermaßen gut bestückt seid, hätte ich mir eure beiden Prachtriemen gleich vorhin auf dem Weg ins Cockpit rein gezogen!"
Fast wie von selbst griffen ihre samtigen Hände, die zuvor ihr eigenes, wogendes Tittenfleisch ausgiebig massiert hatten, nach den 2 rosaroten Liebesknochen. Doch irgendwie hatte die unter ihr liegende Lena so etwas geahnt und obwohl sie aufgrund des, direkt vor ihren Augen kreisenden Prachtarsches kaum etwas sehen konnte, schnappten ihre krallengleichen Hände nach Veronikas Handgelenken, kurz vor dem Moment, in dem diese ihre langgliedrigen Finger um die hartem Schäfte der aufgeregt zuschauenden Zwillinge legen konnte.
„Veronika!!" protestierte Lena lauthals und hangelte sich unter der über ihr hockenden Freundin hervor. Ihr zuvor perfekt geschminktes, makelloses Gesicht war jetzt über und über mit dem Nektar aus Veronikas Fickdose besudelt und die zuvor elegant frisiertes Haar hing nun leicht zerzaust über ihre nackten Schultern.
Aus ihrem eiskalten Blick in die dunklen Augen der Gespielin sprach echter Zorn und ihr Griff um deren schlanke Handgelenke verstärkte sich weiter. „Ich habe es dir gesagt: NICHT BERÜHREN!!!" Sie stand auf und zog die sprachlose Stewardess an den Händen hinter sich her.
An ihrer großen Handgepäcktasche, die vor der halbrunden Sitzecke stand, blieb sie stehen und öffnete den schwarzen Ledertrolli. Da sie Veronika und den Jungs den Rücken zukehrte, konnten diese zuerst nicht erkennen, was die kurvige Blondine dort aus dem Koffer nestelte. Doch als Lena sich wieder aufrichtete und sich langsam zu ihnen umdrehte, sahen sie, was das lüsterne Weib in ihren Krallenhänden hielt:
Ein riesiger, mindestens 30 cm langer und 6 cm dicker Strap-On-Dildo glitt durch ihre, vom eigenen Mösensaft glänzendem Finger und als wäre dies eine Waffe, richtete sie die pechschwarze Eichel dieses Ungetüms auf die vor ihr stehende Veronika.
„Wenn du unbedingt einen Schwanz brauchst, die nimmersattes Miststück, dann bekommst du von mir diesen!" In traumwandlerischer Sicherheit schnallte sie sich das rabenschwarze Monstrum um die ausladenden Hüften und ließ ihre lila Krallen einige Male über die lebensecht gezeichnete, grob adrige Oberfläche gleiten.
„Knie nieder und leck mir meinen Schwanz, du Hure!!" befahl die blonde Luxusfrau der schwarzen Stewardess mit dunkler Stimme und diese kniete fast demütig vor ihr nieder. Nahezu andächtig öffnete Veronika ihr wulstiges, dunkelrot glänzendes Lippenpaar und schloss es wieder um die aalglatte Eichel des wie lebendig wirkenden Kunststoffphallus.
Die beiden Jungen waren den Frauen in kurzem Abstand gefolgt und Lena winkte sie mit gekrümmtem Zeigefinger zu sich heran. Mit ihren stramm abstehenden Freudenspendern standen sie jeder an einer Seite ihrer, von Lust beseelten Tante und beobachteten gierig das sich vor ihnen abspielende, unwirkliche Szenario.
Laut schmatzend und schlürfend leckte und saugte das schokobraune Kurvenwunder an Lenas Vollgummidildo, bis dieser von ihrem Speichel nass glänzte und lange Fäden davon langsam auf ihre enormen Brüste tropften. Lena stöhnte dabei, als würden ihr die Zungen- und Lippenspiele tatsächliche Freuden bescheren, aber es war wohl der einmalige Anblick allein, der ihr Glattrasiertes Fötzchen zum brodeln brachte.
Auch Bernd und Dirk konnten nicht mehr anders, als ihre strammstehenden Riemen zu reiben und so dem sündigen Treiben der beiden Traumfrauen vor ihren Augen Tribut zu zollen. Lena sah aus den Augenwinkeln, wie ihre Neffen, mit verklärtem Blick auf die stöhnend saugende Veronika, hemmungslos masturbierten und beschloss, in dem begonnenen Spiel noch einen weiteren Gang höher zu schalten.
„STOP!!!" rief sie laut und zog Veronika den Spucketriefenden Gummischwanz aus dem weit geöffneten Mund. Ihre langgliedrigen Finger umschlossen fest die Handgelenke ihrer Neffen und verhinderten so gerade noch eine gewaltige Ejakulation der zuckenden Luststangen.
„Du bist eine sehr gute Schwanzlutscherin, Vanessa! Ich wette, Du würdest jetzt gern an 2 richtigen Riemen saugen, nicht wahr?" Lenas Augen funkelten verheißungsvoll bei ihren Worten und die dunkle Schönheit mit den wulstigen Lippen bekannte sofort: „Oh Gott, Lena. Ich würde alles dafür geben, den beiden Hengsten den Saft aus den Eiern lutschen zu dürfen!"
„Ich weiß, wie sehr du dir das wünscht! Ich kann es selbst kaum abwarten, das harte Schwanzfleisch der beiden zwischen meinen Lippen zu spüren!" sprach Lena nun wieder etwas milder, denn sie wusste, wie sehr Veronika es liebte, einen pochenden Penis zwischen ihren negroiden Superlippen zu verwöhnen. „Aber glaube mir, ich habe meine Gründe, es nicht so weit kommen zu lassen. Was hältst du davon, wenn ich dich mit meinem schwarzen Wunderding stattdessen anständig durchficke?"
Veronika war vor Erregung kaum noch in der Lage, einen zusammenhängenden Satz zu formulieren und warf sich stattdessen rücklings auf das nahe Sofa. Sie spreizte ihre langen, schneeweiß bestrumpften Beine so weit sie konnte und hielt sich mit ihren elegante manikürten Händen an den High-Heel-Hacken ihrer Lackpumps fest.
„Dann tu es endlich! Gib mir diesen Riesenprügel und fick mich bis ich komme! Steck ihn mir bis zum Anschlag rein und nagele mich wund. Ich will ihn so tief spüren, wie es geht! FICK MICH IN DEN ARSCH!!!!!!" schrie Veronika im Rausch ihrer Erregung und ließ zwei Finger jeder Hand in ihre rosa Möse und ihr enges Poloch gleiten.
Nun war es an Lena, vor der Freundin in die Knie zu gehen. Mit einer Hand fest um den dicken Schaft des adrigen Kunstpenis vor sich und mit der anderen an Veronikas weit herausgetretener Klitoris stimulierend, setzte sie die bedrohlich dicke Eichel des ‚Schwarzen Riesen' an das feucht schimmernde, faltige Arschloch der gebannt stillhaltenden Freundin.
„Du willst ihn wirklich in deinem Arsch?" fragte sie noch einmal mit ungläubiger Stimme. Statt einer Antwort entließ Veronika die Finger aus ihren weit geöffneten Löchern und packte die vor ihr hockende Lena fest um die drallen Arschbacken. Mit all ihrer Kraft zog sie die fassungslose Blondine zu sich heran und spießte sich förmlich selbst auf den steinharten Phallus.
Ein animalisches Jaulen entkam ihrem weit aufgerissenen Mund, als das Monstrum den engen Ring ihres Schließmuskels überwand und mit einem Ruck 10 cm tief in ihren Anus einfuhr. Lena gönnte ihr einen Moment der Entspannung, ehe sie von sich aus den Druck gegen den Enddarm der Freundin verstärkte und so mit ihrem umgeschnallten Fickkolben Stück für Stück tiefer in sie eindrang.
Mit einem kurzen Nicken deutete Lena ihren beiden fasziniert zuschauenden Neffen, sich rechts und links neben der breitbeinig auf dem Rücken liegende Chefstewardess zu postieren und deren angewinkelte Beine mit einer Hand so fest es ging auf ihren bebenden Oberkörper zu pressen.
Dadurch hob sich Veronikas gepfähltes Hinterteil ein wenig und erleichterte Lena das weitere Vordringen enorm. Mit der jeweils freien Hand wichsten die dumpf stöhnenden Brüder ihre stocksteifen Samenspritzen mit steigender Intensität, welche sich noch weiter potenzierte, als ihre Tante von hinten, zwischen ihren Oberschenkeln nach den schweren Hodensäcken tastete und diese grandios mit ihren langen lila Klauenfinger massierte.
„FICK MICH! FICK MEINEN ENGEN ARSCH, BIS ICH KOMME!!" rief Veronika in ihrer Ekstase wie von einem Lustdämon besessen und zog den vor- und zurückstoßenden Unterkörper Lenas immer gnadenloser gegen den eigenen.
Als sie in ihrem Fickwahn die Lider hob und sah, wie die 2 Brüder ihre jungen Potenzstangen direkt über ihr wild bearbeiteten, verdrehte sie entzückt die dunklen Augen und feuerte sie sextrunken an: „Jaaaa! Das will ich sehen!! Wichst eure harten Schwänze für mich! Oh Gott, ihr ahnt nicht, wie sehr ich mir wünschte, das ihr es währt, die ich tief in mir spüren könnte!!!"
Das spornte Lena nur noch mehr an, den schwarzen Dampfhammer mit immer schnelleren und härteren Stößen in Veronikas Därme zu jagen und auch ihr synchroner Griff um die prall gefüllten Testikel der schnaufend masturbierenden, jungen Männer verstärkte sich immer weiter.
Bei jedem erneuten Eindringen in den Rektalkanal der Freundin verursachte die saftig glänzende Kunststoffstange einen hoch stimulierenden Druck gegen Lenas sensiblen Schambereich und die, an der Innenseite des Umschnallgürtels eingearbeiteten Noppen reizten ihren geschwollenen Kitzler zusehends mehr.
Die Luft in der luxuriösen Kabine war erfüllt vom Stöhnen und Grunzen vierer im Lustrausch gefangener Körper, die in 10.000 Meter Höhe, mitten über dem Atlantischen Ozean kurz davor waren, gemeinsam die höchsten Gipfel der Wollust zu erklimmen und sich völlig ihrer Ekstase hingaben.
„Macht euch bereit, gleich ist sie soweit!" raunte Lena keuchend ihren onanierenden Neffen zu. Veronikas rechte Hand war von Lenas Hüfte zu ihrer eigenen, Schleimgetränkten Fotze gewechselt und ihr Daumennagel rubbelte hektisch über ihre vorwitzig herausgetretene Klitoris, während 2 Finger tief in ihrem Mösenloch wühlten.
„Oh mein Gott! ICH KOMMMEEEE!! ICH KOMMMMMEEEEEE!!!!!!" röhrte sie atemlos aus tiefster Brust und ihr gesamter Körper bäumte sich krampfartig auf, während Lena einen letzten, Erlösung bringenden Stoß in ihren Prachtarsch vollzog. Dieser löste auch bei ihr selbst den herbeigesehnten Höhepunkt aus und ekstatisch zuckend brach sie hechelnd auf dem, im Orgasmusrausch schwelgenden Luxuskörper der dunkelhäutigen Freundin zusammen.
„SPRITZ JETZT!!! SPRITZT UNS VOLL MIT EUREM HEISSEN SAFT!!!!!" befahl Lena den, zu beiden Seiten des sich wild züngelnden Lesbenduos knienden Jungen mit letzter Kraft und diese richteten gehorsam die Mündungslöcher ihrer zuckenden Nillenköpfe in Richtung der sich abschleckenden Frauengesichter.
Als das animalische Stöhnen der beiden Jungmänner verriet, das die Entleerung ihrer Samensäcke kurz bevor stand, legte sich Lena neben Veronika und Wange an Wange ergötzten sich die befriedigten Frauen an den Orgasmusschreien der ejakulierenden Teenager.
Lüstern blickend und dankbar seufzend empfingen sie die heißen Salven der herausschießenden Liebessoße mit weit geöffneten Mündern und gierig herausgestreckten Zungen. Nicht enden wollende Ströme des weißen Nektars ergossen sich auf den Gesichtern der beiden Schönheiten und klatschten auf Lippen, Hälse und Brüste der glücklich lächelnden Frauen.
Bernd und Dirk glaubten beide, das der Nachschub von breiigem, würzig duftendem Samen aus ihren unablässig weiter pumpenden Gliedern niemals mehr versiegen würde, doch schließlich hingen nur noch dünne Fäden des weißlichen Lebenssaftes von ihren ausgewrungenen Nillen und sammelten sich auf den üppigen Brüsten der besudelten Freundinnen.
Vorsichtig, um keinen Tropfen zu vergeuden, nahm Lena von beiden Eichellöchern die herabtropfenden Reste des potenten Sudes mit ihren langen Fingernägeln auf und fütterte die erschöpft atmende Veronika mit der Frucht aus den Lenden ihrer Neffen.
„Das ist der Beweis meiner Liebe zu dir!" hauchte sie der dankbar an ihren Fingern nuckelnden Schwarzen zu. „Trink den Saft der beiden Traumschwänze aus meinen Händen und ich verspreche dir, das du sie beim nächsten mal richig spüren darfst!!"
Während die beiden weltentrückten Superfrauen sich noch eine lange Zeit damit beschäftigten, die jeweils andere von den üppiger Spuren der gewaltigen Ergüsse mittels Fingern, Lippen und Zungen zu säubern und dabei immer wieder in langen, feuchten Küssen verweilten, vielen die beiden Brüder erschöpft aber glücklich rückwärts in die Polster.
Sie konnten den Rückflug schon jetzt kaum erwarten...
(to be continued)
Die Nagelprobe Teil 03
by molicker
(vorweg erstmal 1000 Dank für die vielen positiven Kritiken auf die ersten beiden Teile und viel Spaß mit dem 3.! Freue mich über jeden Kommentar und warte hungrig auf Eure Reaktionen)
Molicker
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Heiß und brennend empfing die gleißende Sonne Nevadas die Zwillingsbrüder Bernd und Dirk, als sie gemeinsam mit ihrer Tante Lena deWinter das Flughafengebäude von Las Vegas verließen und zum nächsten Taxistand eilten, um so schnell wie möglich in ihre vorreservierten Hotelzimmer zu gelangen. Die beiden Jungen hatten dabei alle Hände voll zu tun, ihr eigenes, eher spärliches Gepäck, sowie die weitaus üppigere Garderobe ihrer Tante in Richtung der wartenden Yellow Caps zu befördern.
Lena stolzierte ihnen auf ihren hochhackigen Edelpumps voran, ihr schulterlanges, leicht gelocktes, hellblondes Haar reflektierte die Strahlen der Wüstensonne wie ein göttliches Leuchten, während ihre dunkelblauen, mit dicken Kajalstreifen umrandeten Augen hinter einer spiegelnden Sonnenbrille verborgen blieben.
Nach der spontanen Entsaftungsorgie zwischen ihr, der Chefstewardess und ihren zwei spritzfreudigen Neffen im Flugzeug, hatte sie ihren Traumkörper in einen dünnen Hosenanzug gehüllt, durch dessen fast transparenten, pastellfarbenen Stoff die Konturen ihrer schwarzen Spitzenunterwäsche deutlich hindurch schienen.
Sie steuerte geradewegs auf das erste in der Reihe wartende Taxi zu und als der Fahrer sie erblickte, sprang er sofort heraus und half der müde lächelnden Blondine beim einsteigen. Nachdem das Gepäck verstaut war, nahmen Bernd und Dirk jeweils links und rechts neben ihrer ungeduldig wartenden Tante auf dem Rücksitz platz und diese wies dem Fahrer in perfektem Englisch den Weg in ihr gebuchtes Hotel.
Während der etwa halbstündigen Fahrt erklärte Lena ihren Neffen, die mit großen Augen die riesigen Hotelcasinos der Spielerstadt bestaunten, den Zweck ihres Aufenthaltes. „Wir sind hierher gekommen, um einen überaus wichtigen Geschäftsabschluss zu tätigen. Das dürft ihr bei all der Ablenkung und allen Reizen, die diese Stadt bietet, nie vergessen!" redete sie den beiden 18jährigen ins Gewissen. „Ich habe euch nicht zu eurem oder auch meinem Vergnügen mitgenommen, sondern weil ich hoffe, dass ihr mir bei den entscheidenden Verhandlungen noch sehr von nutzen sein könnt!"
Bernd und Dirk versprachen, ihre Tante mit aller Kraft zu unterstützen, wussten aber nicht so Recht, welche Hilfe zwei Jungabiturienten einer ausgebufften Geschäftsfrau wie ihr wirklich sein könnten. Lena antwortete mit einem tiefgründigen Lächeln, dass sie das noch früh genug erfahren würden und streichelte den beiden mit jeweils einer Hand langsam über die Innenseiten ihrer Oberschenkel.
Am Hotel angekommen, welches wie eine riesige Pyramide gebaut war und dessen Pagen und Bedienstete wie ägyptische Haussklaven in weit ausgeschnittenen, wallenden Gewänder mit kunstvollen Stickereien gehüllt waren, checkten die 3 in der Fußballfeldgroßen Lobby ein und wurden von einem schwarzen Hotelburschen in ihre Suite begleitet.
Das überdimensionale, in einer der obersten Etagen des 50stöckigen Gebäudes gelegene Penthouse ließ keine Wünsche offen. 2 große Schlafräume grenzten an den in der Mitte gelegenen, etwa 100 qm großen Wohnraum. Beide Schlafzimmer wiederum hatten eigene, luxuriös eingerichtete Bäder, die fernöstlichen Badehäusern nachempfunden waren.
Nachdem die Brüder die Suite mit all ihren Annehmlichkeiten erkundet hatten, fanden sie ihre Tante in einem der Bäder wieder, wo diese gerade dabei war, sich ein entspannendes Bad in die überdimensionale Wanne einzulassen. Lena hatte sich ihrer legeren Bekleidung bereits entledigt und trug nichts, außer einem schneeweißen Hotelbademantel, den sie aber nicht zugebunden hatte und der die weiblichen Rundungen ihres begehrenswerten Körpers bei jeder Bewegung hervorschauen ließ.
„Na, wie gefällt euch die Suite?" fragte sie ihre eintretenden Neffen und ließ dabei plätschernd eine wohlriechende Mixtur Badeöl in das dampfende Wasser fließen. „Klasse" „Super", antworteten die Zwillinge gleichzeitig und konnten ihre Augen nicht von dem göttlichen Wesen abwenden, dass soeben den flauschigen Bademantel abstreifte und mit einem wohligen Seufzer ihre sonnengebräunte Haut von dem schaumigen Wasser umspielen lies.
„Aaaah! Das tut gut!" stöhnte Lena zufrieden und schloss genussvoll die Augen. „Ihr dürft euch in der Stadt ein wenig umsehen, wenn ihr wollt. Aber für 20:00 Uhr habe ich den Boss der Kosmetikfirma, mit der ich verhandele, in unsere Suite zu einem Geschäftsessen eingeladen. Besorgt euch bis dahin etwas vernünftiges zum Anziehen und seit pünktlich geduscht und angezogen bei Tisch." Sie hatte ihre dunkelblauen Augen zwischenzeitlich wieder leicht geöffnet und mit einem lüsternen Lächeln fügte sie hinzu: „Wenn meine Verhandlungen heute erfolgreich sind, verspreche ich euch einen Abend, den ihr nicht vergessen werdet! Jetzt macht, dass ihr raus kommt, sonst komme ich noch auf dumme Gedanken und kann mich nicht auf meine Geschäfte konzentrieren!"
Die Jungen gaben ihrer Tante noch rasch einen flüchtigen Abschiedskuss auf ihre samtweiche Wange und verabschiedeten sich artig von der, in ihrer ganzen Pracht in dem Schaum bedeckten Wasser, lang ausgestreckten Blondine. Einer suchte noch in Lenas Handtasche nach deren goldener Firmenkreditkarte und anschließend machten sie sich auf den Weg, Las Vegas auf eigene Faust zu erkunden. Es war ca. 16:00 Uhr und bis zu ihrem Termin hatten sie noch genügend Zeit für die Einkäufe und alles, was Lena ihnen aufgetragen hatte.
Gegen 19:00 Uhr waren sie wieder zurück im Hotel und fanden die Suite verlassen vor. Nachdem sie sich geduscht und gestylt hatten, zogen sie ihre neu erstandenen Anzüge an und warteten im Salon gespannt auf die Dinge die da kommen würden. Um halb acht klopfte es an der Tür und 3 groß gewachsene, dunkelhäutige Hotelangestellte brachten auf einem Schiebewagen das bestellte Abenddinner herein. 2 von ihnen deckten den Tisch für 4 Personen und einer bereitete die Speisen frisch zu. Die beiden Brüder verfolgten das geschäftige Treiben neugierig und bekamen so gar nicht mit, wie ihre Tante in Begleitung einer anderen Person das Zimmer betrat.
Erst das laute Klacken hoher Absätze ließ Dirk und Bernd herumfahren und was ihre Augen erblickten, ließ die Münder der Zwillinge weit offen stehen:
Vor ihnen stand ihre Tante in einem bauchnabeltief ausgeschnittenen, pechschwarzen Abendkleid, welches an einer Seite einen hüfthohen Schlitz hatte, durch den der Saum ihrer halterlosen schwarzen Nylons erkennbar war. Ihre vollen, stramm abstehenden Brüste spannten den glitzernden Stoff des schmalen Stoffschals der sie verhüllte wie 2 Zeltkuppeln, in deren Mitten die reifen Knospen ihrer sensiblen Warzen sich deutlich abzeichneten. Mit ihren reich beringten, sauber manikürten Händen prüfte sie vorsichtig ihre hochgesteckte, platinblonde Frisur und mit einem entzückten Lächeln ihrer hellrot glänzenden, vollen Lippen stellte sie ihrer Begleitung in akzentfreiem Englisch die beiden regungslos dastehenden Zwillinge vor:
„ Das sind die beiden jungen Männer, von denen ich ihnen erzählt habe, Madame. Meine beiden Neffen Bernd und Dirk!" Mit einem Wink beorderte sie die 2 näher zu sich heran und fügte halblaut hinzu: „Sie machen vielleicht einen etwas schüchternen Eindruck, aber ich bin mit ihrer Ausbildung noch am Anfang und kann Ihnen versprechen, dass sie sehr lernwillig sind."
„Na kommt schon, ihr zwei Hübschen! Ich möchte euch Madame Jasmine vorstellen. Sie ist die Besitzerin des Kosmetikkonzerns, von dem ich euch berichtet habe", erklärte Lena den heran schreitenden Brüdern erfreut. Diese richteten die Blicke sogleich auf den direkt neben Lena stehenden Gast und was sie sahen, lies die halbharten Glieder in ihren glatt gebügelten Stoffhosen im nu zu stocksteifen Knüppeln wachsen. Die Frau, die ihre Tante ihnen gerade als Chefin eines weltweit operierenden Beautykonzerns vorgestellt hatte war die pure Sünde in Person:
Sie war nicht besonders groß, aber aufgrund ihrer extra langen Pfennigabsätze der lilafarbenen Lackstiefeletten fast so groß wie Bernd und Dirk. Die muskulösen Oberschenkel ihrer schwarz bestrumpften Beine wurden von einem hautengen Lack-Minirock bedeckt, dessen Farbe perfekt mit der ihrer Stiefelletten harmonierte. In dem gleichen, tiefdunklen lila waren ihre perfekt geschwungenen Lippen, ihre halb geschlossenen Lider, sowie ihre extrem langen Fingernägel lackiert, die mindestens 4 cm über die Kuppen hinausragten und so noch ein wenig länger waren, als Lenas glutrote Mörderkrallen. Unter einem zum Rock passenden Lackjäckchen verbarg sie die unübersehbaren Rundungen ihrer wogenden Brüste hinter einem glitzernd bestickten, hautengen und hochgeschlossenen, pechschwarzen Topp, dessen elastischer Kragen sich eng an ihren schlanken Hals schmiegte. Ihre gefährlich funkelnden, tiefschwarzen Augen musterten das sprachlos starrende Brüderpaar eindringlich und ihre dunkelrote, lockige Löwenmähne verlieh ihr das Aussehen einer hungrigen Sexhexe, die soeben ihre nächste Mahlzeit inspizierte.
„Hallo, schön euch zu sehen!" hauchte sie fast zwischen ihren purpurnen Lippen hervor und ihre rauchige, dunkle, fast schon männliche Stimme jagte den Zwillingen einen wohligen Schauer durch die Glieder. Sie reichte den beiden ihre rechte Hand zur Begrüßung und mit schweißnassen Handflächen erwiderten beide den Gruß. „Habt ihr beide eure Stimmen verloren oder was ist mit euch los?" rügte Lena die noch immer stumm stierenden Jungen ernst und gab beiden einen leichten Stoß in die Rippen. „Guten Abend, Madame" und „Hallo, sehr erfreut" stotterten diese daraufhin halblaut und wurden beide ein wenig rot um die Nasen als sie begriffen, wie dümmlich ihr Benehmen wirken musste.
Als Lena sah, dass die 2 Diener und der Koch mit den Vorbereitungen für das Abendessen fertig waren, bat sie die anderen zu Tisch und Madame Jasmine hakte sich sogleich zwischen Bernd und Dirk ein, um sich an ihren Platz geleiten zu lassen. Sie tafelten an einem kreisrunden, schwarzen Esstisch, an dem sich die beiden Damen und die beiden jungen Herren jeweils gegenübersaßen. Die farbigen Diener servierten die edelsten Speisen und Getränke, während sich am Tisch die Atmosphäre allmählich entkrampfte und die leicht verunsicherten Brüder langsam auftauten.
Nachdem alle gesättigt waren, machte Lena den Vorschlag, ihre obligatorische Nachtischzigarette draußen, auf der weitläufigen Dachterrasse zu rauchen, was von Jasmine dankbar angenommen wurde. So zogen sich die beiden Damen und die Brüder nach draußen zurück, während drinnen die Bediensteten den Tisch abräumten. Die Jungen schenkten den Damen noch Champagner nach und warteten gespannt auf, wie dieser Abend fortfahren würde.
Auf der von außen nicht einsehbaren Terrasse bot sich ihnen ein Blick, der wohl nur schwer zu überbieten war. Unter ihnen zogen sich die gleißenden Lichter und Leuchtreklamen der anderen Hotels wie eine pulsierende Neonschlange durch das Dunkel der hereingebrochenen Nacht und ein warmer Wüstenwind sorgte für eine angenehme Temperatur, hoch oben über den belebten Straßen von Las Vegas.
„Ich liebe diese Stadt!" schwärmte Jasmine bei dem Blick auf das Panorama und zog genussvoll an der extradünnen Damenzigarette, die Lena ihr angeboten hatte. Aufmerksam hatte die Jungen den Frauen Feuer gegeben und sich anschließend selbst eine Zigarette angezündet. Es lag eine ungewöhnliche Spannung in der Luft und da niemand etwas sagte, hätte man, trotz des herauftönen des Straßenlärms, eine Stecknadel fallen hören können.
Madame Jasmine hatte ihr Lackjäckchen ausgezogen und streichelte sich mit ihren Langnageligen Fingern über die nackten Oberarme. Dabei blickte sie etwas unsicher in Lenas strahlend blaue Augen und fragte sie mit halblauter Stimme: „Meinst du, wir sollten es ihnen sagen?" Lena lächelte wissend und antwortete ebenso gedämpft: „Ich habe meinen Teil unserer Abmachung erfüllt und dir die 2 auf einem Silbertablett serviert. Der Rest liegt jetzt an dir, meine Beste!"
Jasmines Augenlider schlossen sich zu 2 schmalen Schlitzen und nach einem letzten, tiefen Zug an ihrer Zigarette stolzierte sie in langsamen, klackend schallenden Schritten auf das verwirrt blickende Brüderpaar zu. „Es gibt da etwas, was ich euch mitzuteilen habe!" begann sie mit erhabener Stimme und instinktiv zuckten die Zwillinge zusammen. In wohl überlegten und langsam gesprochenen Sätzen redend, fuhr sie fort:
„Ihr glaubt, dass der Grund eurer Reise hierher ein geschäftlicher ist, doch das ist nicht ganz richtig. Tatsächlich habe ich mit eurer Tante schon vor Wochen die Details unserer künftigen Zusammenarbeit geklärt und es waren heute nur noch einige Unterschrift auf längst ausgehandelten Verträgen zu leisten." Sie zündete sich eine neue Zigarette an und sprach weiter: „Ich habe Lena gebeten euch hierher zu bringen, weil ich glaube, dass es an der Zeit ist, dass wir uns endlich kennen lernen. Das, was ich euch jetzt erzählen werde, wird euch wahrscheinlich verwirren oder ihr werdet es nicht glauben wollen, aber ich schwöre euch, bei allem was mir Heilig ist, es ist die Wahrheit."
„Vor ca. 20 Jahren, ich war gerade 16 Jahre alt geworden, verliebte ich mich unsterblich in einen Jungen in meinem Alter und wie das Schicksal es wollte, empfand dieser Junge ebenso für mich. Die ganze Sache hatte nur leider einen Haken: Dieser Junge war mein Zwillingsbruder, sein Name war Dustin, und wir wussten, das unsere Beziehung so ziemlich gegen alle Regeln verstieß, die unsere streng gläubigen Eltern uns gelehrt hatten. Doch wir waren wie besessen von einander und es kam, wie es kommen musste: Ich wurde schwanger - von meinem eigenen Bruder! Als unsere Eltern schließlich davon erfuhren, erschlug unser Vater meinen Bruder und Geliebten in rasendem Zorn und setzte auch Mutters und seinem Leben mit seinem Revolver ein Ende. Er konnte mit dieser „Schande" nicht weiterleben und bevor er sich selbst tötete, schoss er auch auf mich. Doch wie durch ein Wunder überlebte ich und ebenso das ungeborene Leben in meinem Bauch. Oder ich sollte besser sagen, „die" ungeborenen Leben, denn ich erwartete Zwillinge."
Jasmine machte eine kurze Pause in ihrem Monolog, ließ ihre letzten Worte auf die, wie gebannt zuhörenden Brüder wirken und erzählte schließlich unbeirrt weiter:
„Ein halbes Jahr später brachte ich 2 gesunde Jungen zur Welt und ich kann euch sagen, dass das der glücklichste Tag in meinem Leben war! Aber die Schwester meines Vaters, bei der ich von nun an wohnte, ahnte, dass diese Kinder der Grund für die Tragödie in unserer Familie seien und beschloss, sie so weit wie möglich von mir zu entfernen. Sie schickte die Babys gemeinsam mit meiner älteren Schwester Lena in ein exklusives Kinderheim nach Europa, genauer gesagt nach Deutschland. Lena studierte dort und heiratete schließlich einen wohlhabenden Mann, während die Zwillinge in dem Glauben aufwuchsen, dass ihre Eltern bei einem Verkehrsunfall ums Leben gekommen seien. So verging ein Jahr nach dem anderen und auch ich heiratete einige Zeit später einen mehr als wohlhabenden älteren Mann, der vor 3 Monaten verstarb und mir glücklicherweise den Kosmetikkonzern, unter anderem dieses hübsche Hotel und noch eine kleine Filmproduktionsfirma hinterlassen hat."
Abermals hielt Jasmine kurz inne und erkannte in den Gesichtern der regungslos vor ihr stehenden Jungen zugleich Erstaunen und Verwirrung. „Ich kann mir gut vorstellen, das ihr jetzt ziemlich durcheinander seit, aber was ich euch versucht habe zu erklären, lässt sich in einem Satz zusammenfassen:
Ich bin eure Mutter! Ihr beide seit das stolze Ergebnis der Liebe zwischen mir und meinem Zwillingsbruder und nach allem, was mir Lena erzählt hat, habe ich auch allen Grund auf euch, meine Söhne, mehr als stolz zu sein."
Liebevoll lächelnd strich sie den beiden sprachlosen Jungs über die Köpfe und fügte mit Tränen in den Augen und bebender Stimme hinzu:
„Wenn ihr jetzt wütend oder böse auf mich seid, kann ich das gut verstehen! Aber ihr müsst mir glauben, dass es so, wie alles gekommen ist, das Beste für jeden von uns war. Doch jetzt ist die Zeit gekommen, eine Mutter mit ihren Söhnen wieder zu vereinen! Es gibt nichts, was ich mir mehr wünsche und wenn ihr auch dazu bereit seid, verspreche ich euch das Himmelreich auf Erden!"
Zärtlich zog sie die Köpfe der beiden zu sich heran und gab jedem einen kurzen, aber unendlich sanften Kuss auf die trockenen Lippen. Mit dem langen Nägeln ihrer Zeigefinger fuhr sie leicht kratzend über die halb offen stehenden Münder der, wie versteinerten wirkenden Brüder und entließ sie seufzend aus dem klammernden Griff ihrer scharfen Krallen. „Ich werde drinnen auf euch warten, meine beiden Lieblinge - und brave Jungs lassen ihre Mutter nicht lange warten!" Damit verschwand sie zurück in die Suite und ließ 2 perplexe 18Jährige, zusammen mit der schelmisch grinsenden Lena, auf der Dachterrasse zurück.
„Na, meine Herren! Noch irgendwelche Fragen?" Lenas wohlklingende Stimme ließ Dirk und Bernd herumfahren und was sie sahen, ließ das Blut in ihren Adern brodeln. Von ihnen unbemerkt hatte sich Lena ihres Abendkleides entledigt und stand mit leicht gespreizten Beinen, im vollen Glanz ihrer reifen Weiblichkeit, nur in ihren samtschwarzen Halterlosen und den wahnsinnigen Highheels, mit in die Hüften gestemmten Händen vor den stotternden Brüdern.
„... und... und ...und was kommt jetzt?" brachte schließlich einer hervor, während der andere fragend stammelte: „Was meint sie mit ‚vereinen'?"
„Nun", antwortete Lena süffisant, „ich denke, sie meint es so wie sie es sagt. Meine Schwester, bzw. eure Mutter weiß immer genau was sie will und sie lässt sich durch nichts und niemanden davon abbringen. Und was sie jetzt will, seit ihr, ihre Söhne, und sie will euch ganz, mit allem was ihr habt! Meint ihr, ihr seit dazu bereit?"
Die Brüder sahen sich kurz an und konnten sich ein leichtes Grinsen nicht verkneifen. Eigentlich war das hier alles viel zu unglaublich um Wahr zu sein. Sie standen hier, mitten in Las Vegas, auf der Dachterrasse eines der luxuriösesten Hotels der Stadt und ihre Tante, eine der verführerischten Frauen, die sie je gesehen hatten, gab ihnen zu verstehen, dass ihre Mutter, von deren Existenz sie vor 2 Stunden noch keinen Schimmer hatten, den festen Willen hatte, ihren beiden Söhnen die Unschuld zu rauben.
Wenn sich so etwas jemand ausdenken und niederschreiben würde, kein Mensch auf der Welt würde so eine Geschichte glauben, doch wie so oft ist das wahre Leben viel unglaublicher als jede erfundene Geschichte.
Die beiden brauchten nichts zu sagen, denn jeder erkannte am Blick des anderen, was dieser dachte und so nickten sie ihrer Tante nur leicht lächelnd zu.
„Gut!" erwiderte diese das Lächeln. „Ich habe auch nichts anderes erwartet! Wobei ich doch zugeben muss, dass auch ich gern die Erste gewesen wäre, die ihr mit euren Prachtschwänzen beglücken werdet! Aber ich habe eurer Mutter mein Wort gegeben und so weit es ging ja auch gehalten! Immerhin durfte ich euren köstlichen Nektar schon zweimal kosten und in naher Zukunft werden wir uns bestimmt noch näher kommen!"
„Zieht euch jetzt aus!" hauchte sie den Brüdern zu und streifte sich lasziv ihre überlange Perlenkette über den Kopf. Dieses Kommando waren die zwei ja mittlerweile gewohnt und so standen sie in Sekundenschnelle splitterfasernackt vor dem atemberaubenden Prachtweib. Lena nahm wohlwollend zur Kenntnis, das ihre Reize die perfekt gewachsenen Liebespfähle der Jungen hart wie Beton von ihren spärlich behaarten Körpern abstehen lies. Oder war es etwa die Vorfreude auf das was noch kommen würde? Egal, sie würde ihren Auftrag nun zu Ende bringen und diese beiden Symbole der Männlichkeit ihrer Bestimmung zu führen. Dem Ort, an dem sie ihren Anfang nahmen und wo sie auf ewig willkommen sein würden: Im willigen Schoß ihrer wollüstigen Mutter!
Die Nagelprobe Teil 03
by molicker
Zwischen den beiden Brüdern kniend, umschlang sie erst das Gemächt des einen mit den kühlen Perlen ihrer tausende von Euro teueren Kette und vollzog anschließend bei dem anderen die selbe Prozedur. Die Jungen standen nun buchstäblich aneinander gekettet vor ihrer sichtlich zufriedenen Tante, welche es sich nicht verkneifen konnte, die durch das enge Verzurren der Genitalien austretenden Lusttropfen mit ihren blutroten Krallen auf den glänzenden Eicheln zu verreiben und sich anschließend die verbliebene Schmiere genüsslich von den Nägeln zu lecken.
Bei diesem Anblick begannen die Schwänze ihrer 2 Neffen verdächtig zu zucken und Lena zog die Perlenschlingen um deren Hoden und Schwanzwurzeln ein gutes Stück enger, was sie zwar mit einem tiefen Stöhnen quittiert bekam, aber die Wirkung nicht verfehlte und beide vor einem nahenden Früherguss bewahrte.
Lena erhob sich grazil, nahm das Mittelteil der Kette in eine Hand und zog die ihr gehorsam folgenden Jungen hinter sich her, durch die offene Terrassentür in den mittlerweile leicht umgestalteten Salon der Hotelsuite. An den Wänden brannten zahlreiche Fackeln und überall standen tropfende Kerzen, die den Raum in ein geheimnisvolles Licht hüllten, aber zugleich für eine wohlige Wärme sorgten.
Der marmorne Esstisch, an dem sie vor einer knappen Stunde noch gespeist hatten, war nun dekoriert wie ein heidnischer Opferaltar mit allerlei Tüchern, Kissen und Decken, in deren Mitte die nackte Jasmine mit geschlossenen Augen und auf den Oberschenkeln ruhenden Händen hockte.
Ihr Anblick war der einer Göttin. Die vollen Lippen leicht geöffnet, irgendeine fremdartige Melodie leise summend, hoben und senkten sich ihre vollen Brüste im Rhythmus ihrer tiefen Atemzüge und ihr Oberkörper wog sich leicht im Takt ihres monotonen Sing-Sangs.
Lena trat, mit den Jungen folgend, etwa einen Meter an den ‚Altar' heran und als das laute Klacken ihrer Highheels auf dem Fußboden verhallte, öffnete Jasmine langsam die tief purpurnen Lider. Ihre begehrlichen Blicke wanderten von dem grandiosen Körper ihrer älteren Schwester sofort zu ihren kurz dahinter postierten Söhnen und hafteten schließlich instinktiv auf den kettenverschnürten Phallussen mit den glatt glänzenden Eichelköpfen.
„Wen bringst Du mir, geliebte Schwester?" drang ihre tiefe, rauchige Stimme durch den benebelnden Dunst der brennenden Duftkerzen.
„Deine Söhne - Gebieterin!" antwortete Lena und verneigte sich ehrerbietig vor der madonnenhaften Blutsverwandten.
„Ich habe sie nach deinem Geheiß geprüft und für würdig befunden, sich deiner Gunst zu unterwerfen! Sie sind bereit für dich und ich bitte dich nur um eines: Lass mich an diesem heiligen Akt teilhaben! Ich wünsche mir nichts sehnlicher als zu schauen, wie du den ewigen Bund mit den Früchten deines göttlichen Schosses vollenden wirst!" Dabei streckte Lena ihre rechte Hand, mit dem Mittelteil der schweren Perlenkette nach vorn und reichte diese ehrfürchtig der nun breitbeinig knienden Jasmine zu.
Die Jungen wurden dabei weiter nach vorn gezogen und standen jetzt jeweils zu einer Seite der nun ihrerseits niederknienden Tante. Ihre pochenden, waagerecht abstehenden Schwänze reichten dabei gerade über die Kante des marmornen Altares und zeigten dabei mit ihren purpurn leuchtenden Eicheln direkt auf das klaffende Tor zur Lust zwischen den gespreizten Schenkeln ihrer betörenden Mutter.
„Sicher wirst du daran teilhaben, Lena, du Treueste der Treuen!" lächelte Jasmine milde und zog die, an die Perlenkette gefesselten Jungen zu sich hoch, so, dass diese sich beeilen mussten, die Platte zu erklimmen um nicht empfindlichen Schaden an ihren stolzen Lustspendern zu nehmen.
„Du darfst dich meinem, nach Erlösung sehnenden, Mutterloch widmen, während ich mir endlich nehme, was mir gehört und für immer mein sein wird!" Dabei rückte sie ein Stück der Tischkante entgegen und präsentierte ihren atemlos schauenden Söhnen und ihrer dankbar lächelnden Schwester ihre glatt rasierte, von langen, blutdurchtränkten Schamlippen gesäumte Möse, deren rosa schimmernde Innenseiten bereits feucht glänzten und deren sinnlicher Duft wie ein beschwingendes Aphrodisiaka wirkte.
„Aber mach' es mir langsam! Genauso langsam und zärtlich, wie ich diese prachtvollen Exemplare meiner beiden Jungen genießen werde!" Dabei schlang sie sich das freie Mittelteil der langen Kette um den schlanken Hals, was die beiden zuckenden Glieder noch näher an ihr makelloses Gesicht rucken lies.
Während Lena mit ihren feuerroten Nägeln die ebenso glänzenden Schamlippen ihrer erwartungsvoll seufzenden Schwester teilte, griffen Jasmines betörende Finger wie in Zeitlupe um die dick adrigen Schäfte ihrer dumpf stöhnenden Söhne und schloss diese zärtlich aber druckvoll, bis sich ihre dunkellila leuchtenden Krallen fest in die sensible Penishaut gruben.
Die dabei in dicken, klar sämigen Fäden austretenden Lusttropfen fing sie mit den Daumennägeln auf und verteilte die schleimige Flüssigkeit unter den lustvoll stierenden Blicken der Brüder auf die weit hervorgetretenen Knospen ihrer dunkelbraunen Brustwarzen, was diese noch weiter anschwellen ließ.
„Ich möchte zu gern wissen, ob ihr genau so gut schmeckt, wie ihr ausseht!" schnurrte Jasmine dunkel und leckte sich langsam mit der Zungenspitze über die, Purpur geschminkten und dunkel umrandeten Lippen. „Soll Mami euch eure dicken, harten Schwänze lutschen?"
„Oh Gott, bitte Mutti, tu es!" und „Ja, bitte!! Mach mit uns, was du willst!" stießen die Zwillinge gequält hervor und ruckten ihre Unterkörper instinktiv ein weiteres Stück vor, dass beide dick geschwollene Eicheln nur noch Zentimeter von den sich langsam öffnenden Lippen ihrer emporblickenden Mutter entfernt waren.
Auch Lena blickte zwischen Jasmines weit gespreizten Schenkeln lüstern empor und sah, wie die lange feuchte Zunge ihrer Schwester sich schlangengleich aus der Höhle ihres bezaubernden Mundes schlängelte und mit der zitternden Spitze die glatt glänzenden Penisköpfe abwechselnd umspielte.
Die Brüder waren dermaßen fasziniert von dem sich ihnen bietenden Anblick, das sie kaum zu atmen wagten und keinen Lidschlag taten, um nicht eine Millisekunde dieses perversen Schauspiels zu verpassen. Vor ihnen beiden kniete ihre madonnenhafte Mutter, die mit ihrer langen Zunge die Schäfte ihrer heftig pulsierenden Schwänze entlang glitt und ihnen dabei abwechselnd tief in die Augen blickte.
Nachdem Jasmines Zunge nach einer Weile nahezu jeden Quadratzentimeter auf den prächtigen Organen ihrer Söhne mit ihrem gelenkigen Leckinstrument erkundet hatte, nahm sie nun ihre wulstigen, Lippglos bedeckten Lippen hinzu und lies auch diese unter leisem Stöhnen an dem knochenharten Jungmännerfleisch auf und abgleiten.
Dirk und Bernd durchfuhren heiße, wohlige Schauer aufgrund der unbeschreiblichen Gefühle, welche ihnen ihre Mutter mit der unnachahmlichen Art ihrer oralen Fertigkeiten bereitete. Hätte Jasmine die Schwanzwurzeln der beiden nicht eng zwischen Daumen und Zeigefingern abgeklemmt, wäre ihnen der Saft schon lange emporgeschossen. Doch mit ihren fachkundigen Griffen wollte die lüsterne Mutter das Ejakulieren ihrer Söhne zumindest so lange verhindern, bis auch sie selbst, durch das Zungen- und Fingerspiel ihrer katzenartig leckenden Schwester an ihrer triefenden Spalte, den Gipfel der Wollust erklommen hatte.
„Leg dich auf den Tisch, Lena! Ich will das schöne Gesicht meiner Schwester mit meiner heißen Möse ficken, während ich mir die zuckenden Riemen meiner Söhne tief in den Rachen stopfe!" Die Worte Jasmines waren die Gebote einer Göttin und Lena war die Letzte, die nicht jeden Wunsch ihrer Schwester erfüllen wollte.
Sie legte sich lang ausgestreckt auf die dicke Marmorplatte und ohne die Hände auch nur einen Moment von den pochenden Pfählen der beiden Jungen zu nehmen, schwang Jasmine ihren prallen Unterleib auf das, mit herausgestreckter Zunge sehnlich blickende Gesicht Lenas.
Sogleich schleckte und saugte sie wie besessen durch den Schleimüberfluteten Lustkanal, der auf ihr trohnenden Jasmine, die ihr ausladendes Becken druckvoll über das makellose Antlitz ihrer blonden Schwester scheuerte. Dabei grunzte die lusterfüllte Mutter aus tiefstem Innern und wandt sich mit heißhungrigem Blick wieder den links und rechts von ihr pendelnden Potenzbolzen zu.
„Gleich ist es soweit!" röhrte sie ob des, in ihrem Innern aufsteigenden Höhepunktes. „Eure Mutter wird gleich ihren heißen Mösensaft auf das schöne Gesicht eurer Tante spritzen und ihr werdet mir euren heißen Lebenssaft zu trinken geben!!" Kaum hatte sie das letzte Wort gesprochen, zuckte ihr gesamter Körper, wie von Peitschhieben getroffen, vor und zurück und mit einem markerschütternden Urschrei ergoss sich Jasmines aufgestaute Geilheit zwischen den weit aufgerissenen Lippen ihrer, mit langen Zungenstößen immer tiefer in sie eindringenden Schwester.
Um nicht das Gleichgewicht zu verlieren, krallte sich das vor Lust tobende Weib auf das heftigste in den Geschlechtsteilen ihrer keuchenden Söhne fest und schnappte, im nicht abebbenden Orgasmusrausch nach einem der stahlharten Prügel direkt vor ihrem lustverzerrten Gesicht. In einem tiefen Schub stieß sie sich den zuckenden Phallus weit in ihren hungrigen Rachen und ihre prallen Lippen schlossen sich fest um das pulsierende Schwanzfleisch ihres eigenen Sohnes.
Dieser konnte dem nun nicht weiter standhalten und mit animalischer Kraft und ebensolchen Lauten drückte er seiner, heftig über seinen Kolben grunzenden Mutter den Sohnschwanz bis zum Anschlag in den engen Hals. Sie lockerte den engen Griff um dessen Wurzel und der lang gesparte Samen ergoss sich in dicken gallertartigen Strahlen tief in den Rachen des tabulosen Teufelsweibes.
Jasmine schluckte und gluckste wie eine Ertrinkende über dem immer weiter speienden Penis ihres Jungen, doch sie kam mit dem Schlucken nicht nach und so floss der heiße, dicke Saft aus ihren Mundwinkeln und tropfte in langen Fäden von ihren vollreifen Brüsten direkt in das Mösensaft verschmierte Gesicht ihrer fasziniert zuschauenden Schwester.
Keuchend nach Luft entließ die besudelte Mutter das Glied ihres einen Sohnes aus ihrem warmen Mund und wand sich mit ebensolcher Hingabe dem noch vollen Samenspender ihres anderen Sohnes zu. Genau so wie eben, kam auch er in den Genuss der beachtlichen Deepthroat-Künste seiner Mutter und während sein Bruder, von kräftigen Melkbewegungen Jasmines angetrieben, seinen restlichen Samen auf ihrem hervor gepressten Tittenpaar ablud, schossen auch die ersten Spritzer seiner potenten Eiersahne in den Schlund seiner spermageilen Mutter.
Wieder versuchte die von teuflischer Gier getriebene Frau jeden Tropfen aus den pumpenden Lenden ihres anderen Sohnes in sich aufzunehmen, aber dieser stand seinem Bruder in nichts nach und so durfte er schließlich die letzten Salven seiner Liebesmilch auf dem dankbar lächelnden Gesicht einer glücklichen Traumfrau entsorgen.
Nie in ihrem Leben hatte Jasmine sich lebendiger gefühlt! Befriedigt von der, unablässig die von ihrem besudelten Körper herabtropfenden Spermabäche aufschleckenden Schwester und gezeichnet von den Samenkaskaden ihrer Söhne, leckte sie die noch immer erregten Glieder der Jungen gründlich sauber.
„Das ist das Kostbarste, was ihr mir schenken konntet!" dankte sie den erleichterten Brüdern mit Tränen der Freude in den Augen und schleckte sich genüsslich die Langnageligen Hände ab, mit denen sie zuvor die verbliebenen Samenreste von ihren Wangen, Kinn und Brüsten gesammelt hatte.
Anschließend beugte sich Jasmine mit geschlossenen Lippen zum schleimbeschmierten Gesicht ihrer platinblonden Schwester hinab und deutete ihr, den Saft triefenden Mund zu öffnen. Kaum kam diese dem stummen Wunsch nach, ließ das wild gelockte Superweib einen großen Schwall des kostbaren Söhnesamens aus ihrem Purpur geschminkten Mund zwischen die vollen, feuerrot glänzenden Lippen ihrer genussvoll Stöhnenden Schwester fließen.
Lena schluckte den Brei aus Samen und Speichel aus dem göttlichen Mund ihrer Schwester gierig, wie den Quell eines Jungbrunnens hinunter und nachdem Jasmine das, vom herabtropfenden Sperma gezeichnete Antlitz der Schwester katzengleich, mit langer Zunge gereinigt hatte, trafen sich die Lippen der beiden Überfrauen zu einem nicht Enden wollenden, wilden und weltvergessenen Kuss.
Bernd und Dirk verfolgten fasziniert das obszöne Schauspiel von Mutter und Tante und wie von selbst begann jeder für sich mit langsamen Bewegungen den eigenen, leer gepumpten, aber noch stocksteif abstehenden Lustpfahl zu wichsen. Jasmine sah dies aus den Augenwinkeln und gebot ihren Söhnen mit strenger Stimme Einhalt:
„Hört sofort auf damit!" Sie erhob sich grazil aus ihrer gebückten Position und stellte sich breitbeinig vor die sichtlich erschrockenen Brüder. „Ich dulde es nicht, dass ihr an euch herumspielt, während sich meine Löcher nach hartem Schwanzfleisch sehnen!" Dabei griff sie mit einer Hand an ihre pink glänzende Muttermöse und mit der anderen fuhr sie sich lasziv vom Rücken abwärts durch die tief gekerbte Arschspalte.
Als die Jungen sahen, wie das perverse Teufelsweib sich fast gleichzeitig zwei ihrer lila lackierten Klauenkrallen in die tropfende Spalte schob und eine Nagel der anderen Hand in ihrem rosa faltigen Poloch verschwand, zuckten Ihre Liebesstangen heftig, was von Ihrer Mutter mit einem verführerischen Lächeln registriert wurde.
„Seit ihr bereit für die ultimative Sünde?" fragte sie stöhnend, während ihre Finger immer tiefer in ihre Löcher vordrangen. „Ich will ..., nein, ich muss euch beide jetzt in mir spüren! Sagt mir, dass ihr es ebenso wollt wie ich!" Jasmine zog ihre feucht glänzenden Finger langsam aus ihren Körperöffnungen und hielt jedem ihrer Söhne eine betörend duftenden Mittelfinger direkt unter die bebenden Nasenflügel.
„Riecht und schmeckt den Geilsaft eurer Mutter!" befahl sie mit sanfter Stimme und beide ließen ihre Zungen an ihren ölig schimmernden Nägeln hinab gleiten. „Mein Körper gehört euch und die euren gehören mir, so soll es auf Ewigkeit sein und niemand wird uns drei je wieder trennen!" Sie küsste beide nacheinander tief und lustvoll und zog Bernd schließlich mit sanfter Gewalt auf die Kissenbedeckte Marmorplatte, wo dieser sich flach auf den Rücken zu legen hatte.
Während Lena mit großen Augen das Geschehen auf dem altarartigen Tisch verfolgte, stellte sich Jasmine mit gespreizten Beinen über den regungslos liegenden Bernd, der sich an den üppigen Formen und dekadent Langnageligen Händen seiner Mutter nicht Satt sehen konnte. Diese Frau war die fleischgewordene Sünde und sengte ihr weiblich ausladendes Becken nun Zentimeter für Zentimeter hinab, in Richtung seiner kerzengerade aufgerichteten Lanze.
Lena nahm indessen Dirk bei der Hand und positionierte ihn auf den weichen Kissen hockend hinter den sich langsam absenkenden Leib seiner Mutter. Als Jasmines wohlgeformtes Becken nur noch wenige Millimeter von Bernds dick geschwollener Schwanzspitze entfernt war, ging sie ebenfalls auf die Knie, den schlanken Körper ihres Sohnes fest zwischen ihre muskulösen Oberschenkel gepresst.
Dabei rutschte Bernds Glied mit der Unterseite der Länge nach durch ihre Schleimtriefende Mutterfotze und sie hielt es, ohne es eindringen zu lassen, zwischen ihren nassen Schamlippen gefangen. Wie eine schleimige Schnecke bewegte sich die Möse der reifen Frau auf dem eingeklemmten Docht des Jungen hin und her, was beide mit lustvollen Seufzern hörbar genossen.
Unterdessen hatte sich Lena den Fickprügel des anderen Zwillings geschnappt und zog diesen in eine kniende Position, direkt hinter der, vorgelehnt über dem Docht ihres Sohnes, hockenden Jasmine. Lena hielt den blau adrigen Stamm mit ihren teuer beringten Fingern fest umklammert und ließ die prall geschwollene Eichel langsam, von oben nach unten, durch die tiefe Arschkerbe ihrer sexbesessenen Schwester gleiten.
Als Jasmine die glutheiße Schwanzspitze ihres zweiten Sohnes zwischen ihren üppigen Hinterbacken fühlte, hielt sie mit den kreisenden Bewegungen ihres mütterlichen Beckens inne und wartete andächtig, bis Lena den aalglatten Peniskopf direkt vor ihrem leicht geöffneten, pinkfarbenen Analloch positioniert hatte.
„Nun soll es geschehen!" tönte Jasmine mit bebender Stimme und hob ihren Unterleib etwas an, so dass die pochenden Eicheln ihrer tief atmenden Söhne direkt an ihre aufnahmebereiten Löcher stießen. „Gebt eurer Mutter was ihr gehört! Zeigt mir, wofür ich euch geboren habe!!"
Mit einer simultanen Abwärts- und Rückwärtsbewegung ihres Beckens rammte sie sich die knochenharten Liebespfähle ihrer Söhne gnadenlos in den brodelnden Unterleib, dass alle 3 vor Lust laut aufschrieen und einige, endlos erschienende Sekunden, wie erstarrt in dieser ursündigen Position verharrten.
Schließlich, nachdem sie sich an die Präsenz von zwei zuckenden Fickkolben in ihrem Innersten gewöhnt hatte, begann Jasmine, durch langsames vor- und zurückziehen ihres voluminösen Hinterteils, die tief in ihr steckenden Schwänze ihrer Söhne abzuficken. Dabei spielten ihre lasziven, Langnageligen Finger unablässig mit ihren weit hervorgetretenen Knospen ihrer dunkelbraunen Brustwarzen und dieser Anblick ließ ihre Jungs abermals aus tiefster Kehle aufstöhnen.
Während Bernd nahezu regungslos da lag und das gekonnte Spiel der Mösenmuskulatur seiner Mutter um sein, tief in ihr vergrabenen Glied genoss, hatte Dirk leichte Mühe, den immer heftigeren Bewegungen ihres Beckens zu folgen. Doch Tante Lena kam ihm sogleich zur Hilfe und mit einer Hand an seinem schwer herabhängenden Hodensack und der anderen fest auf seinen muskulösen Bauch gepresst, brachte sie ihn in einen Rhythmus, der seinen fast schmerzhaft Harten Schwanz wie durch ein warmes Stück Butter in des vollreife Arschloch seiner Mutter hinein und wieder hinaus gleiten lies.
Jasmine fühlte, wie die heißen Kolben ihrer brunftigen Söhne in immer tiefere Regionen ihrer hungrigen Ficklöcher vordrangen und heizte beide mit immer perverseren Anfeuerungen noch weiter an: „Jaaaaa, ihr beiden Fickhengste!" schrie sie förmlich in den von lautem Stöhnen und Keuchen erfüllten Raum hinaus, „besorgt es mir, wie ich es brauche! Fickt eure Mutter richtig durch! Lasst mich eure Hure sein und stillt euren Trieb an meinem sündigen Körper!!
Als wäre dies der letzte Tropfen gewesen, der das Fass zum überlaufen brachte, trieben die benutzten Söhne ihre harten Fickkanonen in einem wilden, aber perfekt aufeinander abgestimmten Stakkato schonungslos in Jasmines kochende Fotze und Lava heißes Arschloch, bis diese sich schließlich in einem schrillen Aufschrei aufbäumte und ihr gesamter Luxuskörper von ekstatischen Zuckungen geschüttelt wurde.
Dabei krampften sich die trainierten Muskeln ihrer heiß gefickten Löcher derart heftig um die tief in ihr zuckenden Schwänze ihrer stöhnenden Söhne, dass auch diese, zusammen mit ihrer aufgelöst grunzenden Mutter ihren Höhepunkt erreichten und schier Literweise, heißes, kostbares Sperma in den bereitwillig dargebotenen Leib pumpten.
Als Jasmine spürte, wie sich die pumpenden Riemen in ihrem Innersten entluden, verstärkte dieses unbeschreibliche Gefühl totaler körperlicher Lust nochmals ihre eigene Libido und von den auf sie einstürzenden Gefühlen überwältigt brach sie keuchend auf dem unter ihr liegenden Bernd zusammen.
„Bleibt noch einen Moment in mir, meine Lieblinge!" grunzte sie schließlich nach langen Minuten der totalen Erschöpfung und langsamen Rückkehr in die unwirklich erscheinende Realität. Sie fühlte, dass die ausgelaugten Glieder der Jungen langsam an Härte und Festigkeit verloren, wollte aber diesen unheiligen Akt ihrer erstmaligen Vereinigung so lange auskosten, wie es ging.
Schließlich glitten die 2 halbharten Phallusse von selbst aus den Samen- und Fotzensaft triefenden Löchern ihrer Mutter, welche es sich nicht nehmen lies, die tiefrot gestoßenen Geschlechtsteile ihrer Sprösslinge von den gemeinsamen Säften mittels ihrer abnorm langen Fingernägel und gierigen Zunge gründlich zu säubern.
Die Nagelprobe Teil 03
by molicker
Als dies vollbracht war, deutete sie den beiden, auf dem nahe stehenden Sofa Platz zu nehmen und wandte sich der, bis dato zum Zuschauen verurteilten Lena zu: „Komm' zu mir, liebste Schwester! Du hasst Dir deine Belohnung nun redlich verdient!" Sie gebot dem blonden Luxusweib, sich auf den zerwühlten Altar zu hocken und stellte sich selbst breitbeinig über deren erwartungsvoll blickendes Gesicht.
„Trink' den kostbaren Saft meiner Söhne aus meinem heiß gefickten Schoß! Damit wollen wir unseren Pakt vollenden und von nun an darfst auch du dich, wann immer du willst, an ihrer Männlichkeit laben!" Dabei ging sie leicht in die Hocke und aus ihren triefenden Löchern floss das warme Sperma in langen, weißen Fäden in den weit aufgerissenen Mund der prallbrüstigen Blondine.
Manche Stränge des sämigen Nektars verfehlten dabei den gierigen Schlund der gierig schluckenden Lena und verzierten stattdessen ihr schönes Gesicht, ihren schlanken Hals und nicht zuletzt ihre perfekt geformten Brüste mit einer dicken Glasur aus fruchtbarem Jungmännersamen.
Als schließlich nur noch spärliche Reste der weißen Soße aus Jasmines gespreizten Löchern nachkamen und an ihren festen Schenkeln bis über die Ränder ihrer halterlosen Nylons liefen, sengte sie ihr breites Becken komplett auf Lenas besudeltes Gesicht und lies sich die schleimigen Körperöffnungen von der gierigen Zunge ihrer Schwester reinigen.
Dabei erlebte sie alsbald einen weiteren, markerschütternden Orgasmus und ging, sichtlich erschöpft von den genossenen Liebkosungen, neben Lena ebenfalls auf die Knie. Die beiden Luxusfrauen küssten sich tief und leidenschaftlich, wobei Jasmines lange Zunge immer wieder zwischendurch die sämigen Spritzer ihrer Söhne von Lenas Gesicht, Hals und Brüsten schleckte und sie dankbar mit ihrer brunftigen Schwester teilte.
Die beiden Brüder verfolgten das lesbische Spiel von Mutter und Tante in stiller Faszination und ihre jungendlichen Lanzen wurden bereits wieder hart und schienen zu weiteren Taten bereit. Jasmine erkannte mit einem Blick den wieder steigenden Erregungszustand ihrer Zwillingssöhne sogleich und nachdem sie den atemberaubenden Körper ihrer Schwester bis auf wenige Reste von den Säften ihrer Jungs gereinigt hatte, nahm sie Lenas Hand, stieg mit ihr vom besudelten Altar und gemeinsam schritten sie, Arm in Arm, auf ihren hochhackigen Pumps auf die wartenden Jungen zu.
„Macht eurer Mutter keine Schande und besorgt es eurer Tante anständig!" ermahnte Jasmine ihre Söhne mit gespielter Strenge und fügte an Lena gewandt hinzu: „Sie gehören ganz dir, aber lass mir für später noch was übrig!" Dann gab sie ihrer Schwester und anschließend ihren Söhnen noch einen langen, feuchten Kuss und verschwand mit klackenden Schritten im Ankleidezimmer.
Lena indes setzte sich aufrecht zwischen Bernd und Dirk und wichste sogleich mit festen Griffen ihrer rot lackierten, Langnageligen Finger deren strammstehende Stämme. „Na, hab ich Euch zuviel versprochen?" fragte sie und die Jungen verneinten einstimmig mit einem heftigen Kopfschütteln.
„Ihr seid wirklich zwei sehr brave und gut erzogene Jungs", sagte sie mit einem warmen Lächeln auf den dunkelrot glänzenden Lippen, „und wir vier werden bestimmt noch viel Spaß miteinander haben!"...
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Die Patentante
Das Lesen der folgenden Geschichte ist Jugendlichen unter 18 Jahren untersagt.
Bitte sorg dafür, dass sie Jugendlichen nicht zugänglich gemacht wird. Jegliche
Weiterverbreitung ist, wenn nicht ausdrücklich anders angegeben, untersagt!
-=Die Patentante=-
AutorIn: molicker
eMail: Der Autor kann nur via Web-Formular auf sevac.com kontaktiert werden!
Datum: 4.2004
Quelle: Autor
---------------------------------------------------- - --- -
Die Patentante
Heute war Simons 16. Geburtstag und wie in den Jahren zuvor hatten seine
Eltern die zahlreiche Verwandtschaft zu Kaffee und Kuchen eingeladen. Das
war natürlich nicht unbedingt die Art von Geburtstag, die sich Simon
gewünscht hatte, aber seinen strengen Eltern zu Liebe machte er gute Miene
zum bösen Spiel und ließ die traditionelle Familienfeier über sich
ergehen.
Die einzige Verwandte, zu der Simon schon seit seiner Kindheit immer ein
gutes Verhältnis gehabt hatte, war seine Patentante Hanna. Genau genommen
war sie eigentlich nicht mit ihm verwandt. Hanna war seit ihrer Jugend die
beste Freundin seiner Mutter und da diese keine Geschwister hatte, bat sie
seinerzeit ihre Freundin, die Patenschaft für ihren einzigen Sohn zu
übernehmen. Hanna war sehr wohlhabend, denn ihr Mann, mit dem sie keine
eigenen Kinder bekommen hatte, war ein sehr reicher Immobilienmakler, der
auf der ganzen Welt seinen Geschäften nachging. Er war aber um einige
Jahre älter als sie und gesundheitlich nicht mehr ganz auf der Höhe. So
kam es auch, dass sie allein zu der Geburtstagsfeier erschien, weil ihr
Mann wieder einmal geschäftlich im Ausland unterwegs war und sie aber den
18. Geburtstag ihres Patenkindes nicht versäumen wollte.
Hanna war eine sehr gepflegte und elegante Frau von 37 Jahren. Sie hatte
dunkelrotes, leicht gewelltes, schulterlanges Haar und war, wann immer
Simon sie sah, sehr auffällig geschminkt, mit meist dunklem, rotem
Lippenstift und reichlich Make-up. Ihre Figur war, trotzdem sie kein
junges Mädchen mehr war, tadellos und wurde von ihr durch äußerst
Körperbetonte Kleidung auch nicht gerade versteckt. Heute beispielsweise
trug sie einen seidig schimmernden violetten Hosenanzug, der sehr
tailliert geschnitten war, so dass ihre Wespentaille fast schon
unnatürlich schmal im Gegensatz zu ihren ausladenden Hüften und dem
voluminösen Hintern wirkte. Ihre weit mehr als durchschnittlich
proportionierte Oberweite verbarg sie nur teilweise unter dem tief
ausgeschnitten Blazer und einer fast durchsichtigen, schwarzen Bluse.
Als sie auf ihren sündhaft teuren, pechschwarz glänzenden Pumps, mit den 8
cm langen Pfennigabsätzen, wie ein Filmstar elegant durch den Raum schritt
und gezielt auf ihren Neffen zusteuerte, verstummte sofort jedes Gespräch
und alle Blicke richteten sich auf sie. Simon saß am Kopfende der
Kaffeetafel und auch er folgte wie gebannt, jeder ihrer Bewegungen. Als
sie fast bei ihm war, stand er höfflich auf um sie zu begrüßen und
herzlich wie immer nahm sie ihn in ihre Arme und küsste ihn liebevoll auf
die Wangen. "Alles Gute zum Geburtstag, junger Mann!" strahlte sie ihn an
und drückte ihn noch etwas fester an sich. Ihr teures Parfum erfüllte den
Raum und ihre herzliche Begrüßung war Simon fast etwas peinlich, so dass
er leicht errötete. "D-Danke Tante - schön dass du da bist", stotterte er
etwas unbeholfen. "Ich habe dein Geschenk leider zu Hause vergessen, aber
wenn du magst, kannst du mich nachher ja nach Hause begleiten, dann
bekommst du es heute noch", flüsterte Hanna ihm ins Ohr und setzte sich
auf den Stuhl neben Simon, den er extra für sie reserviert hatte. Simon
nahm die Kaffeekanne um ihr einzuschenken und sie hielt ihm die Untertasse
samt Tasse hin um ihm dies zu erleichtern. Dabei sah Simon zum ersten Mal
bewusst auf ihre Hände und erschrak fast bei dem, was er sah. Schon seit
er zurückdenken konnte, hatte seine Tante viel Wert auf ihre gepflegten
Hände gelegt. Sie trug immer auf jedem Finger einen auffälligen, goldenen
Diamantring und ihre Nägel waren seit jeher etwas länger, als das bei
anderen Frauen der Fall war. Aber er hatte Hanna mindestens ein halbes
Jahr nicht gesehen und in dieser Zeit hatte sie ihre Fingernägel zu
mindestens 6 cm langen, leicht nach unten gebogenen Krallen wachsen
lassen. Diese waren sorgfältig, in glänzendem weinrot lackiert und gaben
ihrem ganzen Aussehen eine gewisse Lasterhaftigkeit und Dekadenz. Da Simon
fasziniert auf ihre Hände starrte, bemerkte er nicht, dass der Kaffee
mittlerweile über den Rand der Tasse lief und sich auf der Untertasse
sammelte. "Na - Na, nicht so stürmisch, mein Lieber! Wo hast du denn deine
Augen?" lächelte Hanna ihn wieder an, legte eine Hand auf seine und zog die
Kaffeekanne weg. "Tut mir leid - Tantchen!" Simon wurde nun knallrot im
Gesicht und schlug verschämt die Augen nieder. "Ist doch nichts passiert -
du musst halt noch viel lernen, bis du ein richtiger Kavalier wirst", sagte
sie leise zu ihm und streichelte ihm mit der anderen Hand sanft über den
Kopf. "Gott sei Dank haben die anderen nichts davon mitbekommen!" dachte
Simon als er bemerkte, dass niemand ihn anblickte und alle wieder über den
üblichen Familientratsch quatschten.
Bald nach dem Kaffeetrinken ging auch einer nach dem anderen, so dass
schließlich nur noch Simon, seine Eltern und Tante Hanna zusammen im
Wohnzimmer saßen. Hanna erzählte von ihrer letzten Urlaubsreise nach
Afrika und dass sie von dort ein tolles Geschenk für ihren Neffen
mitgebracht hätte, was sie aber leider zu Hause liegengelassen habe. Wenn
seine Eltern nichts dagegen hätten, könne sie ihn ja mit zu sich nach
Hause nehmen und dort könne er sich ja auch den Videofilm von ihrem Urlaub
mit ihr ansehen. Simon war natürlich hellauf begeistert von diesem
Vorschlag und da sie ja praktisch eine alte Freundin der Familie war,
hatten seine Eltern auch nichts dagegen, dass er wieder einmal bei ihr
übernachtete. Schnell packte Simon noch ein paar Sachen zusammen,
verabschiedete sich kurz von seinen Eltern und stieg zu seiner Tante in
ihr silbernes Mercedes-Cabriolet.
Auf der ca. halbstündigen Fahrt plauderten sie über ihre Urlaubserlebnisse
und manches belangloses Zeug. Simon musste immer wieder ihre Hände ansehen,
wie sie sich geschmeidig um den Lenkradkranz legten und sie dabei die
Finger, aufgrund der Überlänge ihrer Nägel, nicht ganz schließen konnte.
Aber trotz dieser leichten Einschränkung wirkte jede ihrer Bewegungen
elegant und grazil. Er kannte diese Frau schon sein ganzes Leben, schoss
es ihm durch den Kopf, aber noch nie war ihm bei ihrem Anblick so wie
heute zu Mute. Es kam ihm so vor als sah er sie zum ersten Mal wie sie
wirklich war: Eine reife, aber umso anziehender und erfahrene Frau, mit
einer unbeschreiblich erotischen Aura.
In ihrer luxuriösen Vorstadtvilla angekommen, parkte Hanna den Mercedes in
der Garage und führte Simon durch diverse Flure in das riesige Wohnzimmer,
oder den Salon, wie sie es nannte. "Ich freue mich so, dass du mal wieder
bei mir zu Besuch bist", strahlte sie Simon an, "mein Mann ist mal wieder
im Ausland beschäftigt und in diesem großen Haus fühle ich mich allein oft
ziemlich einsam." "Ich war schon immer gern hier", antwortete Simon artig -
in der Vergangenheit hatte er hier schon öfter ein paar Ferientage
verbracht. Damals war aber immer Hannas Mann zu Hause gewesen und hatte
mit ihm ziemlich viel unternommen. "Du warst für uns immer wie ein Sohn,
den wir leider nie hatten", sagte Hanna mit gedämpfter Stimme und
streichelte ihm mit einer Hand über die Wange. Als ihre Finger ihn
berührten wurde Simon wieder puterrot und schämte sich für seine
erotischen Gedanken über seine Tante während der Autofahrt. "Möchtest du
jetzt nicht endlich dein Geschenk auspacken?" fragte Hanna, die ihm seine
Verlegenheit anmerkte. "Au ja!" antwortete Simon schnell und wahr froh,
dass sie das Thema wechselte. "Es liegt dort auf dem Marmortisch", sie
deutete auf die große Sitzecke am anderen Ende des Raumes. "Pack es doch
ruhig schon mal aus, ich zieh mir nur schnell was Bequemeres über. Bin
gleich wieder bei dir!" rief sie noch und war schon in ihrem
Ankleidezimmer verschwunden. Simon ging zu dem Marmortisch hinüber und sah
dort ein eingewickeltes, ca. 2 Meter langes aber relativ schmales Paket
liegen. Er packte es aufgeregt aus und zum Vorschein kam ein kunstvoll
verzierter, wahrscheinlich handgearbeiteter afrikanischer Speer. Die
metallene Spitze war ebenso mit vielerlei Zeichen und Runen verziert, wie
der gesamte Schaft. Simon betrachtete ihn von allen Seiten sehr genau und
bekam gar nicht mit, wie seine Tante wieder den Salon betrat. "Gefällt er
dir?" fragt sie und Simon erschrak leicht, da sie direkt hinter ihm stand.
"Oh ja, Tante, sieht stark aus!" gab er zu Antwort, drehte sich zu ihr um
und fast wäre ihm der Speer aus den Händen gefallen als er sah, was sie
sich "Bequemeres" angezogen hatte.
Statt ihres Hosenanzuges und der dünnen Bluse trug sie nun einen ziemlich
knappen, schwarzen Morgenrock, der fast durchsichtig war und nur bis kurz
unter ihre Hüften reichte. Darunter trug sie noch das schwarze Mieder,
welches ihre Taille eng zusammenschnürte, wodurch ihre, durch einen
Stütz-BH gehaltenen Brüste noch größer erschienen, als sie es eh schon
waren. Ihre langen, kräftigen aber keinesfalls dicken Beine waren von
einem Paar schwarz schimmernder Nylonstrümpfe bedeckt, die von einem
Strumpfhalter mit Strapsen gehalten wurden. An ihren Füßen trug sie noch
immer die äußerst hochhackigen Pumps mit den Pfennigabsätzen. Simon
betrachtete sie von oben bis unten, wie ein Gemälde und er hätte sich auch
kein schöneres Kunstwerk vorstellen können.
"Wer sieht stark aus - der Speer oder meinst du etwa mich?" fragte sie mit
einem merkwürdigen Lächeln. Sie hatte auch ihr Make-up nochmals
aufgefrischt und ihre vollen Lippen glänzten förmlich im Licht der fast
schon untergegangenen Sonne. "D - D - Der Speer ist toll", stotterte Simon
mühevoll hervor, "aber du siehst wirklich fantastisch aus, Tante!" Er
konnte nicht glauben, was er da gerade gesagt hatte. Noch nie hatte er
einem Mädchen oder einer Frau solch ein Kompliment gemacht, und nun war
ihm dies bei seiner eigenen Tante passiert. Sein Gesicht färbte sich
wieder knallrot. Wortlos nahm sie ihm das Geschenk aus den Händen und
sagte: "Weist du, dies ist kein gewöhnlicher Speer. Bei den Eingeborenen
in Afrika bekamen früher die jungen Männer solch einen Speer verliehen,
als Zeichen dafür, dass sie ihre Manneskraft unter Beweiß gestellt
hatten." Bei diesen Worten glitten ihre langen Fingernägel langsam am
Schaft des Speeres auf und ab. "Das hat mir eine alte Medizinfrau auf
einem Bazar erzählt und sie hat mir auch noch verraten, dass es oft die
erfahrenen Frauen des Stammes waren, welche den jungen Kriegern diese
Prüfung abnahmen", bei diesen Worten ging sie noch einen Schritt auf Simon
zu und öffnete mit geschickten Fingern die Knöpfe seines Hemdes. "Möchtest
du mir beweisen, dass du auch schon bereit dafür bist, den Speer der
Männlichkeit zu empfangen?", fragte sie ihn nun mit einer Stimme, die
keinen Widerspruch zuließ. Ihre Augen blickten fest in seine und Simon
konnte vor Aufregung nur noch nicken. Er stand nun mit freiem Oberkörper
vor seiner Patentante und ihre langen Nägel kratzten leicht über seine nur
spärlich behaarte Brust und seinen Rücken, dass ihn ihre Berührungen
erzittern ließen. "Zieh deine Hose aus und leg dich dort auf den Diwan",
sie deutete auf ein mit glänzendem, schwarzen Leder bezogenes Möbelstück
mit großer Liegefläche, an deren einem Ende ein weiches, rundes
Nackenpolster angenäht war. Als sie merkte das sich ihr Patensohn noch
genierte, vor seiner Tante die Hosen runterzulassen, streichelte sie mit
einer Hand über seine Wange und sagte: "Zeigst du mir etwas von dir, zeige
ich dir etwas von mir!" Sie ging einen Schritt rückwärts und streifte den
Morgenrock von ihren Schultern. Simon starrte sie fasziniert an und sah
nun, wie sie mit einem kurzen Handgriff die Haken des übergroßen
Büstenhalters öffnete und diesen ebenfalls zu Boden fallen lies. "Hose
runter!" befahl sie ihm nun laut und während er sah, wie sie ihre schweren
Brüste in die Hände nahm und sie provozierend zusammendrückte, öffnete er
mit zitternden Fingern seine Jeans und zog sie aus. Seine Unterhose war
durch den inzwischen vollständig erigierten Schwanz stark ausgebeult und
verschämt hielt er seine Hände davor. "Als du noch ein kleiner Junge
wahrst, hast du dich aber nicht so angestellt!" sagte Hanna wieder etwas
freundlicher und kam wieder auf ihn zu. Ihre Hände massierten noch immer
das üppige Tittenfleisch und zwischen den langen Fingernägeln wuchsen die
rötlich braunen Warzen zu golfballgroßen Knospen mit weit hervorgetretenen
Nippeln an. "Gefällt dir, was du siehst?" fragte sie Simon, der ihr wie
gebannt zusah. "Du bist wunderschön Tante und deine großen Brüste sind
einfach göttlich!" sprudelte es plötzlich aus ihm heraus. Wie automatisch
streifte er seine Unterhose ab und griff sich mit einer Hand um den Schaft
seines fast schon schmerzhaft harten Gliedes und begann, es heftig zu
wichsen. "Nicht doch, nicht noch - ich habe doch noch viel mehr mit dir
vor!" schnurrte Hanna und griff nach seinem Handgelenk. Sie nahm ihn an
die Hand und führte ihren Neffen nun zu dem bequemen Lederdiwan, den sie
als Ort seiner Entjungferung auserkoren hatte.
"Leg dich auf den Rücken mein Kleiner!" sagte sie sanft aber bestimmt und
Simon folgte ihrer Anweisung. Er lag nun lang ausgestreckt auf dem Rücken,
den Kopf auf dem Nackenpolster abgestützt, so dass er genauestens
beobachten konnte, wie Hanna sich elegant des knappen Tangaslips
entledigte und katzengleich, auf allen Vieren, vom Fußende des Diwans her,
seiner steil in die Höhe ragenden Männlichkeit näherte. Ihre mächtigen
Brüste streiften dabei über seine Beine und ihre Hände streichelten mit
den langen Nägeln sanft von seinen Oberschenkeln, über seinen Bauch, bis
zu seinen Brustwarzen, die sie zärtlich umkreisten. Simon bekam eine
Gänsehaut bei diesen, für ihn so unbekannten aber keineswegs unangenehmen
Berührungen. Noch nie war ihm ein Mädchen so nahe gekommen wie es nun
seine eigene Patentante war, die ihn, wie eine Spinne ihr Opfer, langsam
durch die Liebkosungen ihrer klauenartigen Hände in ein Netz von
Leidenschaft und Begierde einspann. Schon oft hatte er von diesem Moment
geträumt, aber nie für möglich gehalten, dass seine geheimsten Wünsche in
Erfüllung gehen würden. Als sich ihre samtweichen Brüste seinem, bisher
nur von ihm selbst berührten Penis näherten und ihn in ihrer Mitte
einbetteten stöhnte Simon leise auf und lüstern lächelnd sagte Hanna: "Du
hast einen wundervollen Schwanz mein Junge - ich bin sehr stolz, die erste
Frau zu sein, die ihn spüren darf!" "Das habe ich mir immer gewünscht,
Tante Hanna!" antwortete Simon gepresst und sah ihr mit verklärtem Blick
in die Augen. Hanna rutschte weiter auf ihm empor und küsste nun mit
zärtlichen Zungenschlägen seine Brustwarzen. Dann glitt ihre feuchte Zunge
über seinen Hals und leckte neckisch abwechselnd an seinen Ohrläppchen,
während ihre erfahrenen Hände weiter seinen jugendlichen Körper
erkundeten, ohne jedoch seine Geschlechtsorgane zu berühren. Als ihre
vollen, dunkelroten Lippen seinen Mund berührten, öffnete er ihn
instinktiv und ihre lange Zunge fand seine, um sie wollüstig zu
umschlingen. Es war für Simon der erste Zungenkuss und er genoss das
Gefühl ihrer fordernden Leidenschaft in vollen Zügen. Als sie nach einer
Weile ihren Kopf etwas zurückzog und sich selbst lüstern über die Lippen
leckte, hielt sie ihrem Neffen mit beiden Händen die gewaltigen Brüste
direkt vor das Gesicht und forderte ihn auf: "Saug an meinen Nippeln mein
Liebling - sie haben schon dein ganzes Leben lang darauf gewartet!" Mit
diesen Worten drückte sie ihm die linke Brustwarze in den Mund und Simon
leckte und saugte, wie ein fast verdurstendes Kalb, am Euter seiner
Mutter. Als er auch die andere Brust bekommen und diese ebenso inbrünstig
verwöhnt hatte, erhob sie sich langsam wieder von ihm und er sah, wie ihre
Hände zwischen ihre Beine gerutscht waren und sie sich mit gleichmäßig
kreisenden Bewegungen selbst verwöhnte. Dabei kniete seine Tante nun
breitbeinig direkt über ihm und Simon konnte genau erkennen, wie ihre
schlanken, beringten Finger, mit den ultralangen weinroten Nägeln die
tiefrot geschwollenen Schamlippen spreizten und der Nagel ihres
Zeigefingers ohne Unterlass den zehncentstückgroßen und feucht glänzenden
Kitzler bearbeitete. Hanna stöhnte laut auf als sie gleich 2 Finger tief
in ihre Lusthöhle gleiten lies und der stark duftende Mösensaft lief ihr
über die Hand und tropfte Simon ins Gesicht. "Koste mich!", forderte sie
ihn auf und hielt ihm die Finger, welche eben noch in ihr steckten, an die
Lippen. Simon öffnete leicht seinen Mund und leckte ihr leidenschaftlich
den Saft von Nägeln und Fingern. Er genoss es sichtlich und Hanna fragte
ihn lächelnd: "Möchtest du mehr davon?" "Ja bitte, du schmeckst so gut!"
antwortete Simon und langsam senkte seine Tante ihre brodelnde Fotze auf
das unschuldige Gesicht des Jungen. Der Anblick und der herbe Duft dieser
perfekten, teilrasierten Liebesgrotte ließ Simon alles um sich herum
vergessen und wie von Sinnen leckte und saugte er inbrünstig an den
triefenden Schamlippen seiner Patentante. Diese quittierte seine
Anstrengungen mit immer lauter werden Lustschreien und spornte ihn weiter
an. "Ja - das machst du sehr gut mein Kleiner - ich ficke dir dein
niedliches Jungengesicht mit meiner nassen Fotze! Steck mir deine Zunge
tief hinein und saug mir den Kitzler!!!" Simon leckte sie, als würde sein
Leben davon abhängen und seine Zunge drang immer weiter in die
glühendheißen Tiefen ihrer reifen Pflaume vor. Ihr Mösenschleim rann in
wahren Sturzbächen über sein Gesicht und als sich ihr Körper plötzlich
ruckartig versteifte um sich schließlich in einem orkanartigen Orgasmus zu
entladen, füllte sich sein Mund in Sekunden mit dem Nektar ihrer Lust, so
dass er Mühe hatte, sich nicht daran zu verschlucken. "Oooooooooh
jaaaaaaaaaa!!! - Trink mich aus du geiler Muschilecker!", schrie sie und
drückte seinen Kopf mit beiden Händen noch etwas heftiger gegen ihren
Unterleib.
Als sie wieder etwas zu sich gekommen war, blickte sie dankbar in Simons
schleim verschmiertes Gesicht und begann, ihm die Spuren ihres eigenen
Höhepunktes von Hals, Wangen und Mund zu lecken, bis sich ihre Zungen
wieder zu einem leidenschaftlichen Kuss vereinten.
"Mein kleiner Neffe ist ja ein richtiges Leckerschmecker!", lobte sie ihn
anschließend und fügte hinzu, "ich möchte dir jetzt deinen prächtigen
Schwanz lutschen, mein Schatz! Würde dir das gefallen?" "Ich gehöre dir -
mach mit mir was du willst!", sagte Simon, noch immer wie benebelt vom
Dunst ihrer Mösensekrete. Hanna leckte mit ihrer langen Zunge zärtlich an
seinen Brustwarzen und wanderte nun langsam aber unaufhaltsam mit ihrem
Mund in Richtung seiner hochgradig erregten Geschlechtsorgane. Ihre
erfahrenen Hände umkreisten forschend seine Schamgegend und griffen sich
schließlich entschlossen das prall geschwollene Glied und den zum platzen
gefüllten Hodensack ihres Neffen. Durch den festen Griff ihrer Hand um
seinen Stamm drang bereits eine gehörige Portion "Vorfreude" aus der blut
gefüllten Eichel. Simon stöhnte vor Lust laut auf und sie lockerte den
Griff wieder etwas, als die schleimige, sämige Flüssigkeit über ihre
extremen Fingernägel rann. Mit gierigem Blick steckte Hanna sich die
beschmierten Finger in den lüsternen Mund und genoss den Geschmack dieser
ersten kleinen Kostprobe seiner jugendlichen Gleitschmiere in vollen
Zügen. Sie ahnte, dass ihr junger Gespiele seine eigentliche Explosion
nicht ohne ihre Hilfe würde lange hinauszögern können. "Du wirst noch
nicht abspritzen - hörst du?" Sie erwartete keine Antwort den ihre Worte
klangen wie ein Befehl. "Ich bringe dir schon bei, dich zu beherrschen
mein "Großer" - dein geiler Teenieschwanz ist weiß Gott nicht der erste
dem ich Manieren beibringe - aber er ist ohne Zweifel der Schönste den ich
je gesehen habe!" Dabei griffen ihre Hände hart um seine prallen Eier und
mit den Daumen drückte sie fest gegen den Bereich zwischen Hodensack und
Schwanzwurzel. Simons Mast stand dadurch kerzengerade vor ihrem Gesicht
und mit leicht geöffneten Lippen näherte sie sich jetzt der bereits heftig
nässenden Eichelspitze. Mit ihren vollendet geformten, wulstigen Lippen
nahm sie sanft die austretenden Lusttropfen auf und leckte sie wollüstig
mit der Zunge ab. Als keine weiteren Vorboten einer nahende Ejakulation
mehr hervortraten, öffnete sie ihren Mund lüstern und sagte: "Entspann
dich jetzt und genieße - was jetzt kommt wirst du dein Leben lang nicht
vergessen!" Dabei blickte sie ihrem Neffen liebevoll in die Augen und in
einem Zug verschlang sie den ganzen Prügel mit ihrem gierigen Maul.
Das Gefühl, das ihr saugender, feuchtwarmer Mund Simons bisher
unberührter Männlichkeit bereitete war für ihn überwältigend. Hätten ihre
erfahrenen Hände durch das abpressen des Samenkanals nicht eine Entladung
verhindert, wäre er unweigerlich tief in der Kehle seiner Patentante
explodiert. So aber zuckte sein Schwanz nur einige Male gegen ihren
Gaumen, während ihre lange geschickte Zunge die Unterseite seines Gliedes
liebkoste. Er spürte ihre weichen Lippen an seiner Schambehaarung und
selig grunzend ließ Hanna den Schwengel ihres Neffen wieder aus ihrem
Rachen gleiten. Ihr Speichel rann in Strömen an dem stocksteifen Schaft
hinunter und mit der Zunge nahm sie einen Faden davon auf, um an ihm
weitere Spuckemengen aus ihrem halb geöffneten Mund über den glänzenden
Schaft gleiten zu lassen. Ihre linke Hand griff nun nach dem
speichelnassen Penis um ihn äußerst fest aber dennoch gefühlvoll zu
wichsen. Ihr vom eigenen Speichel tropfnasser Mund suchte sofort den
dadurch befreiten Hodensack und saugte die samengefüllten Eier ein, um sie
nacheinander zärtlich zwischen Zunge und Gaumen zu massieren. Diese
Prozedur wiederholte sie unter ständigen Stöhnen und genüsslichem
Schmatzen so lange, bis Simon wie ein kleines Kind bettelte: "Ich kann
nicht mehr Tante!!! Bitte, Bitte lass mich endlich kommen!!!!"
Abrupt stoppte Hanna ihre Leck-, Lutsch- und Saugattacken an den
Geschlechtsteilen ihres jungen Opfers und erhob sich wieder etwas, den
Druck gegen Simons Samenleiter nicht nachlassend. "Noch ist es nicht
soweit, mein Junge!" zischte sie ihn an. "Ich bin noch lange nicht mit dir
fertig - hiermit werde ich deine jugendliche Lust zügeln können, bis du mir
hoffnungslos verfallen bist und an nichts anderes mehr denken kannst, als
deiner eigenen Tante ein gehorsamer Gespiele zu sein!" Dabei griff sie an
die Rückseite ihres eng geschnürten Miederkorsetts und zog ein langes
Lederband hervor, das sie sofort gekonnt um Simons Hoden und Schwanzwurzel
schlang und mit wenigen geschickten Handgriffen waren seine
Geschlechtsteile so fest verzurrt, dass die Hoden dick aus der faltigen
Sackhaut hervortraten und sein schon schmerzender Penis fast abgeschnürt
steil empor ragte. "Jetzt ist er bereit gefickt zu werden!" sagte Hanna
triumphierend und kratzte langsam mit den ultralangen Fingernägeln über
die dunkelblaue pulsierende Eichel. Simon zuckte aufgrund dieses leichten
Schmerzgefühles zusammen aber er war froh, dass das Band um seine
Genitalien den kurz bevorstehenden Orgasmus aufgehalten hatte und er noch
länger die erfahrenen Liebkosungen seiner Tante genießen konnte. "Steh auf
mein Schatz - du darfst mich von hinten ficken!" wies Hanna ihn an und
leckte noch einmal kurz an der nässenden Nille. Simon stand auf und Hanna
kroch geschmeidig wie eine Raubkatze auf allen vieren an das Kopfende des
Diwan. "Komm hinter mich und gib mir dein geiles Rohr!" befahl sie weiter,
während sie eine Hand zwischen die weit gespreizten Beine schob und ihre
Finger verlangend nach Simons Prachtkolben griffen. Er kniete nun hinter
ihr und ihre Hand umschloss fest seinen harten Mast. "Nun macht dich deine
Tante zum Mann!" gurrte Hanna lüstern und führte die pralle Eichel ihres
Neffen direkt an den Eingang ihrer Lustgrotte. Simon konnte alles genau
beobachten und wusste nicht, was ihn mehr erregte: Der Anblick ihrer
triefenden, dick geschwollenen Schamlippen oder das einmalige Gefühl, wie
eben diese Pforten der Lust sich öffneten und sein Schwanz langsam in den
heißen, nassen Kanal der Wollust einfuhr. Hanna bewegte ihr Becken Stück
für Stück nach hinten und stieß sich den harten Riemen ihres jugendlichen
Beschälers praktisch selbst in die kochende Möse, begleitet von einem lang
gezogenen, lustvollem Aufstöhnen: "Oooouuuuuhhh!!! Dein Schwanz ist einfach
göttlich - mein Liebling!" jaulte sie auf, als er gänzlich in sie
eingedrungen war. Mit ihren scharfen Nägeln kraulte sie dabei unablässig
an Simons abgeschnürten Bullenhoden und ließ ihn das Gefühl seines ersten
Ficks erst einmal genießen, indem sie ihr Becken so fest es ging seinem
Unterkörper entgegenpresste. Simon glaubte sich im 7. Himmel - wie oft
hatte er davon geträumt, seinen langen harten Pimmel in eine willige Möse
zu schieben und nun war es seine eigene Patentante, die ihn in eine neue
Welt von Lust und Ekstase entführte. Hanna fickte sich den langen Kolben
mit immer härteren Stößen in den Leib, dass ihre schweren Brüste laut
gegeneinander klatschten und wurde bald von einer Reihe multipler Orgasmen
davon geschwemmt. Simon hielt ihren prallen Arsch in beiden Händen, walkte
das üppige Fleisch ihres Hinterns, bis sie schreiend vor Wollust
zusammensackte und sein Fickprügel aus der überlaufenden, fast wund
gestoßenen Fotze glitt. Hanna lag nun auf dem Bauch, ihr prächtiges
Hinterteil ragte wie ein Gipfel der Lüsternheit empor und ihre
wundervollen Hände spreizten aufreizend die drallen Arschbacken weit
auseinander. Simon konnte sich nicht satt sehen an dieser puren
Weiblichkeit und was nun folgte ließ ihn fast vor Geilheit den Verstand
verlieren. "Hier will ich dich jetzt spüren!!!" forderte Hanna und deutete
mit dem langen Fingernagel ihres Zeigefingers auf ihr hellbraunes, faltiges
Arschloch. "Leck mir brav den Arsch aus, mein Junge - dann darfst du deinen
wunderbaren Schwanz in meinen geilen Hintern stecken!!" Sie durchstieß mit
dem Nagel langsam die Enge des Schließmuskels und führte sich mit wohligem
Aufstöhnen den Finger in ganzer Länge in die dunkele Rosette. Ebenso
gefühlvoll glitt er wieder hinaus und auffordernd kraulte sie mit der
Spitze des Fingernagels an der faltigen Öffnung. Simon kniete sich auf
allen vieren hinter seine Tante und nährte sich mit seinem Mund langsam
ihrem ihm provozierend dargebotenen Hintereingang. Noch etwas scheu küsste
er nur mit den Lippen ihre wohlgeformten Pobacken, so dass Hanna ihn
ungeduldig aufforderte: "Jetzt mach schon - ich will endlich deine geile
Fickzunge in meinem Arsch spüren!!! Tu was ich dir sage - du wirst es
nicht bereuen!!!" Mit ihren Worten ließ er seine letzten Hemmungen fallen
und seine geschickte Zunge glitt von oben durch die weit gespreizte
Poritze bis hin zu ihrem bereits fast geöffneten Anus. Dort umspielte
seine Zungenspitze zärtlich den faltigen Ring ihrer Darmöffnung, was Hanna
mit wohligem Stöhnen quittierte. "Reiß mir die Arschbacken auseinander!!"
stieß sie kurz hervor und Simons Hände taten dies sofort, so dass sie sich
mit ihren den dick geschwollenen Kitzler und die hochgradig erregten Nippel
massieren konnte. "Steck mir deine Zunge in den Arsch, du geile Sau!!!"
rief Hanna nun völlig von Sinnen und Simon stieß ihr gehorsam sein langes
Leckinstrument tief in das bereitwillig geöffnete Poloch. "Oh ja, das ist
so geil - ich komme gleich noch mal!!!" stöhnte seine Tante zwischen
tierischem Gejaule und presste ihm ihren göttlichen Hintern immer heftiger
gegen das Gesicht. Seine Zunge stieß weiter und weiter in das enge,
dunstige Arschloch hinein und der Geschmack sowie der betörende Duft ihrer
reifen Anusfrucht ließen Simon fast die Sinne schwinden. Als es Hanna mit
animalischer Heftigkeit kam, lief ihr der heiße Mösensaft direkt auf die
gespreizten Finger, welche ihren Kitzler so heftig stimuliert hatten. Mit
ihren langen Nägeln drängte sie nun Simons Zunge aus dem liebkosten
Hintern, um den schleimigen Brei ihres Orgasmus sorgfältig in und um den
lüstern geöffneten Kranz ihres Rektums zu verteilen. "Fick mich jetzt mit
deinem harten Jungenschwanz in mein geiles Arschloch!" befahl sie ihrem
Neffen jetzt, der wie hypnotisiert auf ihren schleimig beschmierten und
von ihren beiden Händen weit auseinander gerissenen Prachthintern starrte.
Fordernd griff Hanna mit einer Hand nach Simons knüppelhartem Schwengel
und führte die dunkelblaue Eichel wieder zielsicher direkt vor ihr
erwartungsvoll geöffnetes Poloch. "Jetzt zeig mir, was du kannst und stoße
kräftig zu! Ich will dich ganz tief in mir spüren!!" sagte sie mit
vibrierender Stimme und Simon drückte sein steifes Rohr langsam in den ihm
willig dargebotenen Hintereingang seiner Stieftante. Fast ungehindert
passierte seine dicke Eichel den bereits vorgedehnten Schließmuskel und
schob sich Zentimeter für Zentimeter tiefer in Hannas aufnahmebereiten
Steiß. Die feuchtheiße Enge ihres Darms und das erfahrene Spiel ihrer sich
abwechselnd entspannenden und wieder verengenden Rektalmuskulatur bereitete
Simons stetig weiter vordringenden Fickschwanz unglaubliche Gefühle, die
noch wesentlich intensiver waren, als bei dem Fick in ihre kochende Möse.
Hanna wusste als erfahrene Frau, dass er dieser erneuten Überreizung nicht
lange würde standhalten können. Sie packte zwischen ihren gespreizten
Beinen hindurch nach den samenschweren Hoden ihres Neffen um mit den
langen Fingernägeln über die abgeschnürten Eier zu kratzen und durch
diesen leichten Schmerz nochmals seine bevorstehende Ejakulation zu
verzögern. "Jaaaaaaaa!!! - Das tut so gut!!" stöhnte Hanna laut auf als
der pochende Riemen gänzlich in ihr steckte. "Zeig mir das du ein
richtiger Mann bist und fick meine Arschfotze richtig durch - mein geiler
Junghengst!!!" schrie sie Simon an und begann erneut, mit der freien Hand
ihre puterrote Punze zu wichsen. Simon umfasste ihre breiten Hüften fest
mit beiden Händen und zog seinen Steifen langsam wieder aus der engen
Umklammerung ihres Enddarms.
"OOOOOOhhhh!!!!!!!!!", schnaufte seine Patentante inbrünstig, "nicht so
weit mein Junge!" als seine Eichel fast schon wieder den Schließmuskel
verlassen hatte. "Steck ihn wieder ganz hinein und machs mir richtig - ich
bin deine willige Fickstute und du kannst deine Geilheit so oft du willst
in mir austoben!!!" Ihre Worte waren wie Musik in Simons Ohren und er
trieb seinen mittlerweile schon schmerzenden Hammer immer heftiger und
rücksichtsloser in das dampfende Arschloch seiner Tante. Diese wand ihren
Oberkörper schlangenartig hin und her und erwiderte seine Stöße mit
rhythmischen Bewegungen ihres Beckens gegen Simons Unterleib. Der wild
hämmernde Schwanz ihres Neffen in ihrem engen Lustkanal und ihr
ekstatisches Reiben ihres Erbsengroßen Kitzlers ließen ihre Fotze schon
bald wieder überlaufen, dass ihr der Mösensaft in wahren Bächen über die
Oberschenkel und die schwarzen Nylons lief. "Lass jetzt nicht nach - ich
bin gleich wieder soweit!!!" schrie sie in höchster Wollust und schob sich
zwei Finger gleichzeitig in die absaimende Möse, während der Nagel ihres
Daumens weiter am hervorgetretenen Kitzler manipulierte. Simon konnte dies
alles nicht sehen, aber er spürte wie seine gepeinigten Hoden bei jedem
Stoss gegen ihre schleimigen Schamlippen klatschten und fühlte, wie die
langen Fingernägel ihre Pflaume durchpflügten und so zusätzlich noch den
im Arschloch seiner Patentante gefangenen Schwanz stimulierten. Plötzlich
richtete Hanna ihren zuckenden Oberkörper mit letzter Kraft auf und
instinktiv ergriff Simon von hinten ihre schweren Brüste. Er hielt seine
Tante fest, während diese von einem Orgasmus überrollt wurde, den selbst
eine erfahrene Frau wie sie noch nicht erlebt hatte.
"Iiiiiiiiiiiiaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!" grunzte Hanna aus tiefster
Brust und trieb sich das harte Rohr ihres Neffen ein letztes Mal bis zum
Anschlag in den heißen Arschkanal. Simon zwirbelte ihre noch größer und
härter gewordenen Nippel zwischen seinen schwitzenden Fingern und leckte
ihr den Lustschweiß von Hals und Gesicht, während Hanna auf dem Höhepunkt
ihrer Lust seine dicken Klöten dermaßen fest in der Hand malmte, das er
laut aufschrie, aber sogleich mit seinen Liebkosungen fortfuhr. "Oh mein
Gott - du bist wirklich noch besser als ich dachte!" lobte Hanna ihren
Neffen aufrichtig, als sie wieder etwas zu sich gekommen war. Sie glitt
nach vorn und entließ seine Genitalien so mit einem laut schmatzenden
Geräusch aus ihrer geilen Umklammerung. Sie rollte sich auf den Rücken und
Simon sah nun, wie aus ihren offenstehenden Löchern der Schleim ihrer
zahlreichen Orgasmen rann. Hanna nahm davon soviel sie konnte mit ihren
geilen Fingernägeln auf und schmierte sich den eigenen Mösensaft in die
Furche zwischen den empor stehenden Riesenbrüsten.
"Komm zu deiner Tante, mein Junge! Nun hast du dir deine Belohnung aber
redlich verdient!!" lächelte Hanna ihn lüstern an und Simon kniete sich
direkt über ihren voluminösen Oberkörper. Sein pochendes Rohr war durch
den ausgiebigen Arschfick fast wund gescheuert und Hanna wusste, dass sie
ihm nun Erleichterung verschaffen musste, ansonsten drohten seine von ihr
entjungferten Geschlechtsteile ernsthaften Schaden zu nehmen. Mit spitzen
Fingern löste sie den festen Knoten des Lederbandes, welches seine
Samenleiter bisher so erfolgreich abgeschnürt hatte und sogleich floss
wieder ein enormer Schwall Gleitschmiere, bereits mit einigen Samenfäden
versetzt, aus der violetten Eichel ihres Neffen. Zielsicher leitete sie
seine Vorfreude in ihre tiefe Busenspalte und drückte die schweren Titten
fest zusammen um sie für das große Finale zu präparieren. "Leg deinen
dicken Schwanz zwischen meine großen Brüste!" sagte sie mit einem
durchdringenden Blick in Simons Augen und öffnete ihm ihre prallen Euter
mit beiden Händen. Am ganzen Leib vor Geilheit zitternd legte Simon den
spritzbereiten Riemen zwischen die festen Lustbälle seiner Tante und
sogleich drückte Hanna diese wieder fest mit ihren geilen Händen
gegeneinander. "Jetzt fickst du meine Milchtitten bis dir der Saft aus den
Eiern schießt!" befahl sie ihm heiser und Simon konnte und wollte nichts
anderes tun. Langsam bewegte er seinen schmerzenden Pin in ihrer festen
Umklammerung hin und her, wobei seine sämige Eichel bei jedem Stoß nach
vorn kurz zwischen den fleischigen Tittenbergen hervorlugte. Jedes mal
wenn das geschah leckte seine Stieftante mit ihrer spitzen und langen
Zunge über die Unterseite der prallen Schwanzkrone und sorgte so für
zusätzliche Schmierung. Simon genoss die unbeschreiblichen Gefühle, die
ihm die eingeschmierten Riesenbrüste und das züngelnde Leckinstrument
seiner Tante bereiteten unter immer lauterem Stöhnen. Er hätte sein ganzes
Leben so weitermachen können und sich an dem sexstrotzenden Körper Hannas
ergötzen können, aber diese Göttin der Lust forderte nun auch von ihm
ihren Tribut, so das er deutlich spürte, wie ihm der Saft aus den
geschwollenen Eiern in den wild zuckenden Prügel schoss. Hanna
registrierte mit all ihrer Erfahrung sofort, wie es um ihren jungen
Beschäler stand, öffnete ihre durchgefickten Prachttitten und ergriff den
heftig bockenden Hengstschwanz ihres Neffen mit einer Hand und seine
kochenden Hoden mit der anderen. "Spritz mir deine heiße Ficksoße ins
Gesicht, du geiler Jungbulle!!!" rief sie fast hysterisch und ohne
weiteres Zutun schoss ein dicker weißer Strahl köstlicher Spermasahne auf
sie zu, klatschte laut auf ihre bebenden Wangen und die vollen, dunkelrot
glänzenden Lippen. Gierig versuchte sie noch, den heißen Samen mit ihrer
gelenkigen Zunge einzuschlürfen, da sprudelten schon weitere, noch
heftigere Spritzer aus der pumpenden Eichel und besudelten ihr ganzes
Gesicht und ihre Haare mit der frischen Essens des Lebens. "JAAAAAAAA mein
Junge - gib deiner Tante alles was du hast - dein Saft schmeckt wunderbar!
Ich kann nicht genug davon bekommen!!!" gurrte sie zwischen lautem
Schmatzen und befriedigtem Stöhnen. Mit ihren erfahrenen Händen lockte sie
Simon immer weitere Mengen seines milchigen Spermas aus den jugendlichen
Lenden, die auf ihr Kinn, den schlanken Hals und auf die vibrierenden
Brüste seiner Tante trafen. Sein Unterleib zuckte ekstatisch gegen die ihn
abmelkenden Hände seiner Tante und wie umnebelt sah er, wie breite Bäche
seiner Männlichkeit an ihr hinunterrannen und sie mit ihren überlangen,
dunkelroten Nägeln versuchte, jeden Tropfen davon aufzufangen und sich
genüsslich grunzend in den weit geöffneten Mund laufen ließ.
Nach ihm endlos erschienen Minuten versiegte der Quell seiner Hoden und
zärtlich saugte ihm Hanna die letzten Reste seines Saftes aus der
abgewichsten Fickstange. Dabei vergaß sie auch nicht, die leer gepumpten
Eier zu küssen und abzulecken. "Nun bist du ein richtiger Mann - mein
Liebling!" lächelte seine Stieftante ihn glücklich an - in ihrem Gesicht
waren immer noch Reste seines Ergusses deutlich sichtbar. "Danke Tante
Hanna!" erwiderte Simon sichtlich erschöpft, "dass war das schönste
Geschenk, dass du mir machen konntest! "Ich habe mit deinen Eltern
abgesprochen, dass du dieses Wochenende bei mir bleiben kannst, so lange
du willst. Wie gefällt dir dass - mein Großer?" fragte ihn Hanna lächelnd
und statt einer Antwort gab ihr Simon einen langen und innigen Kuss.
-----
Anregungen und Kommentare erwünscht ;)
---------------------------------------------------- - --- -
seVac - erotische Geschichten im Netz!
http://www.seVac.com
-
Die Patentante 3 (Cognac mit "Eierlikör
Das Lesen der folgenden Geschichte ist Jugendlichen unter 18 Jahren untersagt.
Bitte sorg dafür, dass sie Jugendlichen nicht zugänglich gemacht wird. Jegliche
Weiterverbreitung ist, wenn nicht ausdrücklich anders angegeben, untersagt!
-=Die Patentante 3 (Cognac mit "Eierlikör")=-
AutorIn: molicker
eMail: Der Autor kann nur via Web-Formular auf sevac.com kontaktiert werden!
Datum: 3.2005
Quelle: Autor
---------------------------------------------------- - --- -
Die Patentante 3 (Cognac mit "Eierlikör")
Im Gästezimmer der riesigen Vorstadtvilla seiner Tante Hanna erwachte Simon
nach mindestens 10stündigem Schlaf durch ein leises Klopfen an der
Zimmertür. Es war Sonntagmorgen und er erinnerte sich, dass, als er und
Hanna gestern von ihrem Nagelstudioabenteuer heimkehrten, der 500er
Mercedes seines Onkels in der Einfahrt stand. Er war also überraschend
früher als geplant zurückgekehrt, was für Simon und Hanna leider
bedeutete, dass es mit den hemmungslosen Sexspielen vorerst einmal vorbei
war. In der Garage angekommen beugte Simons Tante sich kurz zu ihm hinüber
und flüsterte fast: „Geh Du ruhig schon zu Bett. Ich muss erstmal nach
Deinem Onkel sehen. Wirklich zu schade, dass der alte Sack jetzt schon
nach Hause kommen muss! Aber sei unbesorgt, mein Junge! Ich werde mir für
uns beide was einfallen lassen!" Dabei streichelte sie mit ihren kühlen,
überlangen Nägeln Simons rechte Wange und Griff ihm kurz aber heftig mit
der anderen Hand in den Schritt. Ihre Lippen trafen sich zu einem kurzen
aber umso heftigerem Kuss, bis sich Hanna schließlich abrupt von ihrem
Neffen losriss und die Autotür öffnete, um kurz darauf im Haus zu
verschwinden. Simon blieb noch einen Moment sitzen und folgte schließlich
den Anweisungen seiner Tante. Die exzessive Nummer im Nagelstudio mit ihr
und der Besitzerin, Lena deWinter, hatte ihn doch ziemlich geschafft und
so wahr er fast ein bisschen froh, für den Moment erstmal allein zu sein
und die unbeschreiblichen Geschehnisse der letzten 2 Tage auf die Reihe zu
kriegen. Während er gründlich im Gästebad duschte, schweiften seine
Gedanken immer wieder ab und kreisten förmlich um die anbetungswürdigen
Leiber der beiden reifen Frauen, deren unbändige Lust er hatte genießen
dürfen und denen er jeden Wunsch erfüllen würde, den sie an ihn richteten.
Gerade seine Stieftante Hanna war es, die ihn mit ihrer einerseits überaus
eleganten aber andererseits fast schon hurenhaften Erscheinung gefesselt
hatte und deren strotzende Weiblichkeit in nicht mehr los lies. Natürlich
versteifte sich sein heute extrem beanspruchtes Glied bei diesen Gedanken
zusehends, aber er beherrschte sich und beschloss, nicht selbst Hand an zu
legen, denn vielleicht gab es ja doch noch eine kleine Chance auf ein paar
ungestörte Minuten mit seiner Angebeteten, bevor er morgen Abend wieder
nach Hause musste. Doch in der Nacht tat sich leider nichts und so schlief
er schließlich ein.
Nun lag er fast nackt, bis auf seine Boxershorts, im großen Bett und sein
immer noch (oder schon wieder) stocksteifer Schwanz spannte das darüber
liegende Laken wie eine kerzengerade Zeltstange. Er starrte wie gebannt
auf die sich langsam öffnende Tür und sah erleichtert, wie seine Tante
leise und vorsichtig das Zimmer betrat. In ihrem schneeweißen Kostüm, das
sich hauteng um ihre überaus weiblichen Rundungen schmiegte, sah sie
wieder einmal aus wie die Versuchung in Person. Der etwa knielange Rock
umspannte ihre drallen Hüften, darunter trug sie ebenso weiß glänzende
Nylons und hochhackige, weiße Lackpumps. Unter dem engen Blazer, an dem
nur der unterste Knopf zugeknöpft war, trug sie eine fasst durchsichtige
Seidenbluse, die ebenfalls weit offen stand, so dass ihre prallen Brüste,
die von einem weißen Stütz-BH fest zusammen und empor gedrückt wurden,
jeden Moment aus dem tiefen Ausschnitt zu kugeln drohten. Ihre dunkelrot
glänzenden, leicht gewellten Haare trug sie heute offen und perfekt
frisiert reichten diese bis auf ihre Schultern. Wie immer war sie äußerst
auffällig geschminkt, mit dunkelrotem Lipgloss, schwarz umrandet, dunklem
Lidschatten und Eyeliner, sowie reichlich MakeUp. Leise schloss sie die
Tür hinter sich und stolzierte auf ihren hochhackigen Pumps langsam auf
den regungslos daliegenden Jungen zu, der sie erwartungsvoll anstarrte.
„Guten Morgen, mein Süßer! Hast Du gut geschlafen?" flötete sie mit ihrer
warmen Stimme, die Simon einen wohligen Schauer über den Rücken laufen
lies. „Ja, Tantchen, wie ein Toter" antwortete Simon lächelnd während sich
seine Tante neben ihm auf die Bettkante setzte. „Gott sei dank bist Du aber
jetzt wieder lebendig!" entgegnete Hanna zufrieden, deutete mit einem
Nicken in Richtung von Simons ‚Zeltstange und fügte leise hinzu: „Ich
habe heut Morgen leider nicht viel Zeit für Dich, mein Schatz. Dein Onkel
sitzt schon unten beim Frühstück und wartet, dass ich ihn ins Krankenhaus
fahre. Es ist schon wieder was mit seinem Herz nicht in Ordnung" und
seufzend fuhr sie fort, "Weißt Du, dass hört sich jetzt vielleicht für
Dich etwas brutal an, aber seit dem ich Dich hier habe wünsche ich mir
nichts mehr, als das der Alte endlich den Löffel abgibt und wir Zwei uns
hier ungestört austoben können!" Dabei wanderte ihre rechte Hand über das
stramm gespannte Bettlaken, umschloss schließlich zärtlich Simons stolze
Erektion und begann den unter dem dünnen Stoff pulsierenden Stamm leicht
zu massieren. Simon ließ ein leises Stöhnen vernehmen, während sein
Unterleib wie automatisch den erfahrenen, extrem Langnageligen Fingern
seiner Tante entgegenstrebte. Diese Frau war einfach unglaublich: Während
ihr schwer herzkranker Mann ein Stockwerk tiefer wahrscheinlich ungeduldig
auf sie wartete, saß sie hier auf dem Bett ihres Stiefneffen und wichste
ihm langsam die jugendliche Morgenlatte. Fast bekam Simon seinem Onkel
gegenüber Gewissensbisse, doch die Gefühle, die Hanna ihm mit ihren
extravagant geschmückten Händen bereitete, ließen ihn alles andere
vergessen. Plötzlich stoppte seine Tante ihre gekonnte Handarbeit abrupt
und warf mit einem Ruck das mittlerweile von Simons Vorfreude stark
durchnässte Laken beiseite. „Oh Junge!" entfuhr es ihr voller Bewunderung
für seine stolz empor stehende Männlichkeit, „Du hast wirklich das
prachtvollste Stück Schwanz, dass ich je in der Hand gehabt habe," und
lächelnd fügte sie hinzu, „und das waren weiß Gott nicht wenige!" „Bitte
mach weiter, Tantchen!" bettelte Simon verzweifelt, als Hanna die
kunstvoll verzierten Spitzen ihrer ordinär langen Fingernägel über seine
Genitalien gleiten lies, was seinen stocksteifen Schwanz ein ums andere
mal zum Zucken brachte, ohne das sie ihn erneut vollständig mit ihrer Hand
umschlossen hatte. „Ja! Das mag mein Junge!" triumphierte Hanna mit
gesenkter Stimme. „Zeig mir, wie sehr Dir die Hände Deiner Patentante
gefallen!" Sie führte nun die Finger ihrer anderen Hand, mit der sie
inzwischen ihre überreifen aber festen Brüste aus der Umklammerung ihres
Stütz-BHs befreit hatte, so dass diese jetzt provozierend aus dem tiefen
Ausschnitt ihrer Bluse ragten, dicht an Simons Mund und zischte leise:
„Leck mir die Nägel, Du kleine geile Sau! Ich weiß doch, wie geil sie
Dich machen! Leck sie ab mit deiner nassen Zunge!" Simon hörte ihre
Worte, obwohl sie sehr leise sprach, wie Donnerschläge in seinem Kopf
dröhnen und ohne auch nur einen Moment zu zögern streckte er seine spitze,
feuchte Zunge heraus, um dem Wunsch seiner geliebten Tante umgehend
nachzukommen. Diese führte ihre 6cm langen, leicht nach unten gebogenen
und tiefschwarz lackierten Traumnägel einen nach dem anderen über das
speichelnasse Leckinstrument ihres Neffen und ließ ihn so die vollkommene
Schönheit ihrer unvergleichlichen Hände huldigen. Auf Simons empfindlicher
Zunge fühlten sich die unnatürlich lang gewachsenen Fingernägel seiner
Sexgöttin irgendwie kalt und fremdartig an. Doch ein Blick in ihre
zufrieden blickenden Augen genügte, dass er mit seinen Leckbemühungen fort
fuhr und bald gefallen daran fand, ihr dadurch seine zutiefst ehrlich
gemeinte Bewunderung zu beweisen.
Nachdem Simon alle 5 Nägel der linken Hand ‚durchgeleckt hatte, waren nun
die der anderen Hand an der Reihe, wodurch seinen hochsensiblen
Geschlechtsteilen eine kurze Zeit der Entspannung gewährt wurde, ohne die
er durch das unablässige Kraulen seines adrigen Schaftes und der nässenden
Eichel unweigerlich in Kürze zum Höhepunkt gekommen wäre. Mit den
speichelnassen Fingern ihrer Linken fuhr sich Hanna nun langsam aber
zielbewusst unter den Rock und zwischen die bestrumpften Beine, um ihrer
nimmersatten Lustspalte selbst die lang ersehnte Erleichterung zu
verschaffen. Doch auch Simon blieb nicht untätig. Er wollte sehen, wie die
betörende Hand seiner Tante ihre göttliche, immerfeuchte Möse liebkoste und
griff ihr an die Innenseite ihrer Oberschenkel, um ihre Beine sanft aber
bestimmt ein Stück weiter für seine begehrlichen Blicke zu öffnen. Hanna
verstand sofort was ihr Neffe wollte und kniete sich nun ganz zu ihm aufs
Bett. Ihren Rock hatte sie so weit es ging über ihre prallen Hüften empor
gerafft und ein Bein über seinen knabenhaften Körper gespreizt, dass ihre
rasierte, nass glänzende Möse nur wenige Zentimeter über Simons dunkelblau
schimmernden Schwanzspitze verweilte, während eine Hand ihr triefnasses
Loch und die andere seinen steinharten Schaft bearbeiteten. Fasst wäre sie
der Versuchung erlegen und hätte sich das pochende Rohr des Jungen in einem
Zug in ihre hungrige Grotte geschoben, doch war dies nicht der richtige
Zeitpunkt, sich zusammen mit ihrem Lustobjekt den Verstand heraus zu
ficken. Sie würden in ihrer ungezügelten Ekstase sicher das halbe Haus
zusammen schreien und so taub, dass er sie nicht hören würde, war ihr
Ehemann nun auch wieder nicht. Sie wollte nur möglichst schnell ihren
Orgasmus genießen und ihren jungen Gespielen von seinem morgendlichen
Druck befreien, um sich noch vor dem Frühstück an dem Nektar seiner prall
gefüllten Hoden satt zu trinken. Schon rasch fühlte die reife Frau ihren
Orgasmus nahen und ließ 2 Finger in ihren Liebeskanal in rascher Folge
ein- und ausgleiten, während sie Simons nahe am Eruptionspunkt zuckendes
Rohr erst einmal aus der Umklammerung ihrer langen Finger entließ, um
ihren weit hervorgetretenen Lustknoten heftig zwischen zwei Nägeln der
rechten Hand zu bearbeiten. Plötzlich erbebte ihr vollreifer Körper in
einem atemlosen, eine halbe Ewigkeit erscheinenden, Moment und während
seine Tante mit weit aufgerissenen Augen und zusammengepressten Lippen
dumpf grunzend ihren Höhepunkt erlebte, hatte Simon sein Gesicht eilig
unter ihre weit gespreizte Traummöse geschoben um soviel des kräftig aus
ihr heraussprudelnden Fotzenschleims in sich aufzunehmen, wie er nur
konnte. Der Geschmack ihrer klaren, warmen Liebessoße war einmalig und
niemals würde er mehr darauf verzichten wollen.
Als Hanna sich nach ein Weile wieder etwas beruhigt hatte und den, gierig
ihren Schleim schlürfenden Simon unter ihrem Schoß liegend erblickte,
empfand sie ein tief greifendes Gefühl von Glückseligkeit, denn was mehr
kann sich eine Frau wünschen, als einen jungen Mann zu finden, der sich
nach ihren Liebessäften verzehrte und jederzeit bereit war, ihren reifen
Körper mit seinem Nektar zu besamen. Und genau das war es, was sie jetzt
wollte. Sie wollte seinen heißen Samen spüren und schmecken. Sie wollte
sehen, wie der weiße Saft des Lebens aus seinem mächtigen Schwanz
herausspritzte und auf ihre aufnahmebereiten Hände traf. Nur zu gerne
hätte sie sich komplett von ihm voll spritzen lassen, sich in seiner
dampfenden Sahne gesuhlt, doch darauf musste sie für den Moment verzichten
- aber gewiss nicht für lange. Während sie an seinem jugendlichen Körper
wieder hinabrutschte, reinigte sie mit ihren schlanken Fingern sein
Gesicht grob von den feuchten Spuren ihres Höhepunktes und leckte diese
anschließend lüstern lächelnd von ihren schwarz glänzenden Nägeln. Allein
dieser Anblick brachte den Saft in Simons Eiern zum brodeln und als Hanna
seinen langen Fickstamm mit beiden Händen übereinander umschloss und ihn
mit den Worten: „Jetzt gib Deiner Tante was sie so dringend braucht!
Spritz alles heraus und lass mich deine süße Sahne trinken!!" in langsamen
aber umso intensiveren Zügen abmelkte, begann vor seinen Augen die Umgebung
zu verschwimmen, denn all seine Nervenzellen waren nur noch auf das eine
Ziel fixiert - abzuspritzen! Simons prall gefüllte Hoden zogen sich
krampfartig zusammen und in einem explosionsartigen Ausbruch entließen sie
ihre fruchtbare Fracht, die kochend heiß in Sekundenbruchteilen durch den
Samenleiter und die mit reichlich Vorschmiere gefüllte Harnröhre jagte, um
schließlich durch die kräftig pumpende, lila glänzende Eichel heraus zu
schießen.
Der erste Schuss des herb duftenden, jugendlichen Lebenssaftes schoss
nahezu senkrecht einen Meter empor und klatschte dann dampfend auf Hannas
unablässig weiter wichsenden Hände, während weiter Schübe der schneeweißen
Soße in nicht mehr ganz so hohen Schüssen aus Simons juckender Nille
quollen und wie heiße Lava über ihre beringten Finger und tiefschwarzen
Lustkrallen flossen. Auch Simon presste seine Lippen qualvoll zusammen, um
mit seinem inbrünstigen Stöhnen und Seufzern tiefster Befriedigung nicht
seinen Onkel auf den Plan zu rufen. Als sein Blick wieder klar wurde und
er sah, wie seine geliebte Patentante eine ihrer von Mösenschleim und
Männersamen über und über besudelte Hand an ihren weit geöffneten Mund
führte um die Zeugnisse ihrer gegenseitigen Liebesopfer gierig in sich
aufzunehmen, richtete er sich zitternd auf und leckte ebenso genüsslich
die übrigen Reste von ihren dekadenten Luxushänden. Nachdem Hannas andere
Hand den noch immer stolz emporragenden Phallus ihres Neffen bis auf den
letzten Tropfen ausgewrungen hatte, säuberte das so ungleiche Paar auch
diese mit ihren hungrigen Zungen und Lippen, bis sich ihre Samen- und
Fotzensaft beschmierten Münder zu einem Finalen Zungenkuss fanden, in dem
sie den breiigen Sud ihrer Lenden von einem zum anderen und wieder zurück
tauschten, bis Hanna sich schweren Herzens von Simons liebevoller Umarmung
löste. „Deinen heißen Saft zu trinken ist für mich das einzige, wofür ich
leben will!" hauchte sie mit einem merkwürdigen Schimmern in den Augen und
fügte etwas traurig hinzu: „Aber jetzt muss ich Dich leider allein lassen,
sonst wird Dein Onkel noch misstrauisch. Ich verspreche Dir aber, dass ich
so bald wie möglich zurück komme und dann machen wir da weiter, wo wir
gerade aufgehört haben, mein Engel!" Sie stand vom Bett auf, richtete ihr
Kostüm so gut sie konnte und leckte noch einmal über ihre noch immer
feucht glänzenden Fingernägel. „Ruh Dich ruhig noch ein bisschen aus und
wenn Du so weit bist geh einfach hinunter in die Küche. Das Hausmädchen
wird Dir dann schon was Leckeres zu Essen machen. Sag ihr einfach, was Du
möchtest. Bis bald, mein großer Junge!" Sie drückte Simon noch einen
feuchten Schmatzer auf den Mund und streichelte nochmals kurz über sein
halbsteifes Glied. „Beeil Dich bitte - ich brauche Dich hier, Tantchen!"
antwortete Simon lächelnd und deutete auf seinen Halbsteifen. „Worauf Du
Dich verlassen kannst!" trällerte Hanna und verschwand mit wackelnden
Hüften aus seinem Zimmer.
Simon blieb noch so lange im Bett, bis er hörte, wie Hannas Mercedes aus
der Garage und davonfuhr. Nachdem er sich geduscht und angezogen hatte,
ging er hinunter in die große Küche, um zu frühstücken. Lächelnd erinnerte
er sich an den gestrigen Morgen, an dem ihm seine Tante hier einen
unvergesslichen Empfang bereitet hatte, als er ein lautes Klacken von
Stöckelschuhen hinter sich vernahm. Er drehte sich leicht erschrocken um
und sah eine außergewöhnlich hübsche junge Frau auf sich zukommen. Das
musste Carmen sein, dass neue Hausmädchen von dem seine Tante ihm erzählt
hatte. Sie war Brasilianerin und Hanna hatte sie vor etwa einem Jahr in
ihrem Urlaub in Rio de Janeiro kennen gelernt. Carmen war relativ groß und
durch ihre etwa 5 cm hohen Absätze an ihren schwarzen Lackpumps mindestens
genauso groß wie Simon. Ihr dezent geschminktes Gesicht war ebenmäßig, mit
weit hervorstehenden Wangenknochen und dunkelbraunen, fast schwarzen Augen,
die Simon freundlich anstrahlten. Ihre überaus vollen, fasst schon
wulstigen Lippen waren dunkelrot geschminkt und schwarz umrandet, was sie
sehr sexy aussehen lies. Die Farbe ihrer Haut war kakaobraun und Simon
ertappte sich bei der Frage, ob wohl die Haut auf ihrem gesamten,
wohlproportionierten Körper, von ebensolcher samtig weichen Beschaffenheit
war, wie auf ihren makellos manikürten Händen, die sie ihm zur Begrüßung
entgegenstreckte. „Hallo, Du musst Simon sein, ich bin Carmen, das
Hausmädchen. Deine Tante hat mir berichtet, das du noch bis heute Abend
hier zu Gast bist." Simon reichte ihr die Hand und fühlte die Zartheit
ihrer Haut mit seinen Fingerspitzen. Seit seine Tante ihn zum Manne
gemacht hatte, und nicht zuletzt seit dem gestrigen Nachmittag im
Nagelstudio, hatte er eine regelrechte Leidenschaft für schöne und
gepflegte Frauenhände entwickelt, wozu Carmens Hände mit Sicherheit
zählten. Ihre Nägel waren natürlich nicht annähernd so lang wie die seiner
Tante (wie hätte sie auch sonst die Hausarbeit erledigen sollen) und
reichten etwa einen cm über die Fingerkuppen, dennoch sahen sie sehr sexy
aus, obwohl sie nicht mit farbigen Nagellack, sondern natur belassen, nur
mit einer durchsichtigen Lackschicht überzogen waren. Sie trug ein
knappes, bis kurz über den drallen Hintern reichendes, schwarzes Kleid und
um die Hüften eine kleine schneeweiße Schürze, wie sie Hausangestellte
üblicherweise tragen. Nicht gerade üblich war allerdings ihr tief
ausgeschnittenes Dekolletee, durch das ihre sicherlich mehr als eine
Männerhand füllenden, stramm abstehenden Brüste nur bis knapp über die
Brustwarzen bedeckt waren. Ihre endlos lang scheinenden Beine umschmiegten
seidig schimmernde Nylons, deren Strapshalter gerade noch unter dem eng
anliegenden Rocksaum zu sehen waren. Die schwarzen Lack-Highheel-Pumps,
auf denen sie nun mit provozierend schwingenden Hüften durch die Küche
schritt, gehörten mit Sicherheit auch nicht zur üblichen Berufsbekleidung
eines Dienstmädchens, aber sie ging auf ihnen elegant wie eine Dame von
Welt, als hätte sie ihr Leben lang nichts anderes getragen. Simon schätzte
ihr Alter auf Mitte 20 und bewunderte ihr langes, pechschwarzes Haar,
welches leicht gelockt bis fast zu ihrem üppigen Hintern reichte. Während
Simon sich, noch vollkommen gefesselt, von ihrer exotischen und
aufreizenden Erscheinung, gedankenverloren an den Tisch setzte, bereitet
ihm Carmen sein proteinhaltiges Frühstück zu, wobei die beiden langsam ins
Gespräch kamen. Carmen erzählte, dass sie in Rio eine deutsche
Haushaltsschule besucht hatte, was er perfektes, wenn auch nicht
akzentfreies Deutsch erklärte. Sie sagte, dass sie sehr stolz sei, seiner
Tante den Haushalt führen zu dürfen, da diese eine richtige Dame sei und
es ihr viel Freude bereite, ihr zu dienen. Simon konnte ihr nur zustimmen
und insgeheim fragte er sich, welche Dienste Hanna von dieser
außergewöhnlich attraktiven Perle wohl noch in Anspruch nahm.
Nachdem er sein Frühstück beendet hatte, räumte Carmen den Tisch wieder
ab, wobei Simons Augen an jeder ihrer grazilen Bewegungen klebten und er
sich mit Gewalt dazu aufraffen musste aufzustehen und sie ihre Arbeit
erledigen zu lassen. Nur zu gerne hätte er ihren umwerfenden Körper mit
seinen Händen und Lippen liebkost und mit ihr all die heißen Sachen getan,
die ihn seine Tante gerade erst gelehrt hatte, doch irgend etwas in ihm
hielt ihn davon ab. Es war ein unerklärliches Gefühl, dass es falsch sein
würde, sich ihr auf diese Weise zu nähern und wer weiß, was seine Tante
dazu sagen würde, wenn sie davon erführe. Vielleicht war sie ja nicht
immer so nachsichtig, wie gestern, als sie ihn mit ihrer Freundin Lena
ertappt hatte und die 3 schließlich zusammen einen unvergesslichen
Nachmittag verbracht hatten. Plötzlich sagte Carmen, dass sie jetzt den
Kaffeetisch decken müsse, da die SIniora heute Nachmittag noch Besuch
erwarte, wie sie ihr gesagt hatte und Simon viel siedend heiß wieder ein,
dass Hanna Lena ja für heute eingeladen hatte. Nun, dann würde es sicher
für ihn noch einen genussvollen Ausklang dieses unglaublichen Wochenendes
geben und er beschloss, in dem großen Pool im Keller noch ein paar Runden
zu schwimmen und sich anschließend in Ruhe auf die Ankunft von Lena und
die Rückkehr seiner Tante vorzubereiten. An Carmen verschwendete er keinen
weiteren Gedanken mehr, aber er konnte nicht ahnen, dass sich das bald
ändern würde.
Nach einigen Runden im Kellerpool und ein paar entspannenden Saunagängen
im angrenzenden Fitnessraum blickte Simon zur Uhr: Es war fast 15:00 Uhr
und höchste Zeit, sich für den Nachmittag bereit zu machen. Er duschte
nochmals und rieb sich anschließend mit einer wohlriechenden Lotion ein,
die er im Saunabad fand. Schließlich wollte er für die Damen frisch und
anregend duften, damit sie ihm vielleicht auch heute wieder ähnliche
körperliche Genüsse bereiteten, wie gestern. Seine Hoffnung war nur, dass
sein Onkel nicht schon wieder auf den Beinen war und ihnen die erotische
Dreisamkeit verdarb. Wieder im Erdgeschoß begab sich Simon in das
Esszimmer und sah, das Carmen die Kaffeetafel für 3 Personen gedeckt
hatte. Er ging in die angrenzende Küche und fragte die südamerikanische
Schönheit höflich, ob er ihr noch etwas helfen könnte, doch diese lächelte
ihn nur verführerisch an und meinte, dass schon alles bereit sei. Er könne
es sich ja so lange vor dem Fernseher gemütlich machen. Wenn die SInora
oder Frau deWinter einträfen, würde sie ihn sofort verständigen. Simon
folgte also ihrem Vorschlag und zappte sich ungeduldig durch die
Programme, bis er das laute Ding-Dong der Haustüre hörte, welches bis zu
seinem Gästezimmer drang. Er horchte, wie die Tür geöffnet wurde und sich
kurz darauf laut klackende Absätze seiner Zimmertür näherten. Carmen
klopfte leise an und Simon öffnete diese eilig. „SIniora deWinter ist
soeben eingetroffen und erwartet Sie im Salon" berichtete Carmen knapp und
er folgte ihr auf dem Fuße, die geschwungene Treppe hinunter, bis in den
großen Salon.
Als er Lena im goldgelben Licht der herein scheinenden Nachmittagssonne
mitten in dem riesigen Raum stehen sah, blieb Simon vor Bewunderung fast
der Mund offen stehen. Wie ein blonder Engel der Sünde was sie heute
komplett in knallig leuchtendem Rot gekleidet und sah schlichtweg
umwerfend aus: Sie trug einen hautengen, superkurzen Minirock und einen
knappen Blazer in exakt derselben Farbe. Unter dem geöffneten Oberteil
umspannte ein fast durchsichtiger, roter Nylonbody ihre einladend
abstehenden Brüste und durch den dünnen, eng gespannten Stoff konnte man
bei genauem hinsehen die goldenen Ringe ihres Brustwarzenpiercings
erkennen. Ihre schlanken, endlos lang erschienenden Beine bedeckten 2
halterlose rote Nylonstrümpfe und an ihren formschönen Füßen trug sie
feuerrote Lack-Stilletos, deren Absätze extrem dünn, dafür aber mindestens
12 cm lang waren. Ihr langes, blondes Haar trug sie heute elegant
hochgesteckt, wobei einige wenige Strähnchen seitlich hinunterreichten und
ihr besonders aufreizend geschminktes Gesicht perfekt umrahmten. „Oh! Hallo
Simon!" begrüßte sie den wie angewurzelt stehenden Jungen mit einem
freundlichen Lächeln und kam mit eleganten Schritten und schwingenden
Hüften auf ihn zu. Damenhaft reichte sie ihm ihre rechte Hand zur
Begrüßung und Simon ergriff diese zur Erwiderung. Sofort fiel ihm auf,
dass die langen, feuerroten Kunstnägeln an ihren Fingerspitzen im
Gegensatz zu Gestern noch zusätzlich mit edel funkelndem
Diamantensplittern verziert waren, was ihren schlanken Händen einen
dekadenten, extravaganten Look verlieh. Lena bemerkte zufrieden, wie der
Teenager das Ergebnis ihrer morgendlichen Maniküre bestaunte und küsste
ihn mit ihren vollen, knallrot geschminkten Lippen zart auf beide Wangen.
Simon atmete den sinnlichen Duft ihres Parfums mit bebenden Nasenflügeln
ein und hätte Carmen, welche die knisternde Begrüßungsszene interessiert
beobachtete, nicht hinter ihnen gestanden, hätte er der wohlhabende
Geschäftsfrau ohne zu zögern die teuren Klamotten vom Luxusleib gerissen,
um seinen ungestümen, jugendlichen Trieb an ihrer prallen Weiblichkeit
auszuleben.
„Guten Tag, Frau deWinter", begrüßte er sie stattdessen höflich mit einem
angedeuteten Handkuss und lächelte sie mit einem frechen Grinsen
schelmisch an. „Oh, was für ein gut erzogener Junge du doch bist", lobte
ihn Lena umgehend und ergänzte mit gesenkter Stimme, „aber ich glaube,
nach dem gestrigen Nachmittag darfst du mich ruhig duzen." Dabei strichen
die Spitzen ihrer Fingernägel, für Carmen nicht erkennbar, kurz über die
deutliche Ausbeulung in Simons Jeanshose und ließen den langsam errötenden
Jungen wohlig erschauern. „Wo ist denn deine Tante? Hat sie etwa vergessen,
dass wir verabredet waren?" „Die SIniora hat angerufen, dass sie auf dem
Weg sei und darum gebeten, dass sie schon mal ohne sie an der Kaffeetafel
Platz nehmen möchten", antwortete Carmen aus dem Hintergrund und wies
Simon und Frau deWinter den Weg in das Esszimmer. Mit schwingenden Hüften
schritten Carmen und Lena voran und Simon wusste nicht, welches dieser
prächtigen Hinterteile ihn mehr faszinierte: Lenas etwas flacherer aber um
die Hüften breitere Po oder Carmens schmalerer, aber extrem nach hinten
gewölbter, ausladender Prachtarsch, den er im Gegensatz zu Lenas ja noch
nicht nackt hatte bewundern dürfen. An dem großen Esstisch saß er Lena
direkt gegenüber. Zwischen ihnen hatten sie den Platz am kürzeren Ende des
Tisches für seine hoffentlich bald erscheinende Tante freigehalten. Während
Carmen Kaffee und Kuchen servierte, erzählte Simon, dass sein Onkel gestern
Abend überraschend zurückgekehrt sei und das Hanna ihn wegen irgendwelcher
Herzgeschichten ins Krankenhaus hatte fahren müssen. Dabei musste er
natürlich auch an die morgendliche Entsaftung seiner übervollen Hoden
durch Hannas magische Hände denken, aber diesen Teil behielt er lieber für
sich. Lena war es nur recht, dass Hanna sich allem Anschein nach nicht so
um ihren Neffen hatte ‚kümmern können, wie es ihr wahrscheinlich lieb
gewesen wäre. So war sie guter Hoffnung, dass der Junge, der sie bereits
gestern zu bis dahin unbekannten sexuellen Höhepunkten gebracht hatte,
heute auch noch im Besitz seiner vollen Leistungskraft war. Denn sie war
nicht gewillt, dieses Haus wieder zu verlassen, ohne sich von seinem
sagenhaften Schwanz wenigstens einmal kräftig durchbumsen zu lassen und
seinen süchtig machenden Samen aus ihm herauszusaugen. So verging die Zeit
mit weiterem Smalltalk wie im Fluge und gerade als sich Simon das 2. Stück
Torte reichen ließ, hörten sie, wie die Haustür aufgeschlossen wurde und
kurz darauf betrat die Hausherrin das Esszimmer.
„Na ihr beiden, schmeckt es euch?" Hanna begrüßte Lena und Simon mit einem
strahlenden Lachen und küsste beide nacheinander kurz aber intensiv mit
geschlossenen Lippen auf den Mund. Mit ihrem strahlend weißen Outfit, den
leicht gelockten, dunkelroten glänzenden Haaren, ihrem betont feminin
geschminkten Gesicht und nicht zuletzt den leicht gekrümmten, 6cm langen
und pechschwarz lackierten Traumnägeln an ihren schmuckreichen, schlanken
Fingern, sah sie aus wie eine leibhaftige Göttin der Versuchung und wie
grazil sie sich auf ihren extrem hochhackigen weißen Lackpumps um den
Esstisch herum bewegte, ließ die ohnehin schon stattliche Beule in Simons
Hose noch ein gehöriges Stück weiter anschwellen. „Dein Onkel muss leider
ein paar Tage im Krankenhaus zur Beobachtung bleiben, der Ärmste. Ist das
nicht schade?" sagte sie süffisant an Simon gewandt, während sie sich auf
den noch freien, gedeckten Platz setzte. „Ja, wirklich schade", antwortete
Simon grinsend, während ihm seine Tante mit den Nagelspitzen der linken
Hand den Handrücken kraulte. „Und?", fuhr Hanna unterdessen an Lena
gewandt fort, ohne die Finger von Simons wie erstarrt auf dem Tisch
verharrender Hand zu lassen, „Habt ihr zwei euch gut unterhalten, meine
Liebste?" „Aber natürlich, Verehrteste!" antwortete Lena hochgestochen,
„Dein Neffe ist wirklich ein äußerst wohlerzogener und galanter junger
Mann. Ich kann nicht umhin, dich immer mehr um ihn zu beneiden!" Dabei
blickte sie Simon abgrundtief in die Augen und leckte sich kurz mit ihrer
Zungenspitze über ihre sinnlichen Lippen. Die Luft in dem geschmackvoll
eingerichteten Raum war von einer knisternden, erotischen Spannung
aufgeladen, die kurz vor der Explosion zu stehen schien und Simon glaubte,
bzw. hoffte, dass eine der beiden Frauen sich jeden Moment auf ihn stürzen
würde - aber seine Tante hatte für den Moment noch andere Pläne. Sie
läutete kurz das kleine goldene Glöckchen, welches vor ihr auf dem
Esstisch lag. Sofort eilte Carmen herbei und wartete direkt neben Hannas
Stuhl auf deren Anweisungen. „SIniora haben einen Wunsch?" fragte sie
höflich. Simon sah ein Funkeln in den lüstern blickenden Augen seiner
Tante, welches ihm sehr bekannt vorkam. „Du darfst den Tisch nun abräumen,
Carmen!" antwortete Hanna mit gebieterischer Stimme. „Ich denke, wir nehmen
unseren Cognac im Salon."
Das Hausmädchen beeilte sich, dem Wunsch ihrer Chefin nachzukommen und
alsbald saßen Simon und die 2 reifen Damen auf der riesigen Ledercouch im
Salon. An einem Ende Lena, die ihre endlos langen, rot bestrumpften Beine
lasziv übereinander geschlagen hatte und sich gerade eine extralange
Damenzigarette anzündete. Am anderen Ende Hanna, welche sich ihres weißen
Blazers entledigt und ihre weiße Bluse dermaßen weit aufgeknöpft hatte,
dass mühelos erkennbar war, wie ihre übergroßen kugelrunden Traumbrüste
den etwas zu kleinen schneeweißen Halbschalen-BH zu sprengen drohten.
Simon saß zwischen diesen beiden eleganten Vollweiber und wusste nicht so
Recht wohin er seine begehrlichen Blicke zuerst wenden sollte. Da erschien
Carmen mit einer Flasche teuerstem Cognac und 3 Gläsern auf einem Tablett
haltend, elegant herbeistolziert. Sie stellte das Tablett auf das kleine
Beistelltischchen, direkt neben Hanna ab und öffnete die Flasche
geschickt, um anschließend die 3 übergroßen Schwenker mit je einem
‚Doppelten zu füllen. Anschließend verschloss sie bauchige Flasche wieder
und wollte den Anwesenden gerade die gut gefüllten Gläser reichen, als
Hanna ihr plötzlich mit beiden Händen um die wohlgeformten Hüften fasste
und in leicht vorwurfsvollem Ton sprach: „Aber Carmen, mein Engel, du hast
doch sicher nicht vergessen, wie ich meinen Cognac am liebsten mag!?" Ohne
eine Antwort ihrer Bediensteten abzuwarten löste sie mit einer Hand die
Schleife von deren weißer Minischürze und raffte mit der anderen ihren
knallengen schwarzen Rock an der Vorderseite empor. Simon und Lena
glaubten ihren Augen nicht zu trauen, als unter dem hautengen Stretchrock
der jungen Brasilianerin ein seidener, pechschwarzer Tangaslip zum
Vorschein kam, dessen glänzendes vorderes Dreieck aber irgendwie
merkwürdig ausgebeult zu sein schien. Den Grund hierfür präsentierte ihnen
Hanna umgehend, indem sie mit den Langnageligen Fingern ihrer rechten Hand
den straff gespannten Stoff des seidenen Slips beiseite schob und ihr, aus
der unbequemen Verpackung befreit, ein stattlicher, mahagonifarbener und
nahezu vollständig erigierter Penis entgegen sprang!
„Wow!!!" entfuhr es Lena, die ebenso wie Simon mit offenem Mund da saß und
das weitere Geschehen am anderen Ende der Couch bestaunte. Simon war
sichtlich geschockt ob der ‚Enthüllungen und sah nun, wie sich seine
geliebte Tante mit ihrem dunkelrot glänzend geschminkten Mund der sich
immer weiter aufrichtenden, rosaroten Eichel näherte, bis ihre
Zungenspitze plötzlich schlangengleich hervorstach und diese lüstern
umkreiste. Aus Carmens halb geöffneten Lippen drang ein tiefer, lustvoller
Seufzer und ihre Augen blickten in reiner Gier auf den regungslos daneben
sitzenden Jungen, der seinen Blick nicht von ihrem nun stocksteif
abstehenden, dunklen Lustkolben und den sich immer weiter darüber
stülpenden, vollen Lippen seiner Tante abwenden konnte. Er konnte nicht
fassen, dass eine dermaßen erotische junge Frau wie Carmen (zumindest war
sie dies ab dem Bachnabel aufwärts), statt mit einer saftigen Möse mit
einem nicht gerade kleinen Anhängsel ausgestattet war. Zwar war dieses
nicht ganz so üppig geraten wie Simons gegen den Hosenstoff drückender
Freudenspender, aber da Carmen um den steifen Pin und den relativ klein
geratenen Hodensack herum vollkommen glatt rasiert war, wirkte der dunkle
Phallus durchaus ebenso groß und lebendig, wie ein ausgewachsener
Männerschwanz. Simon spürte wie sein eigenes Rohr in seiner viel zu engen
Hose zu pochen begann, denn der Anblick seiner nun immer heftiger und
fordernder an dem harten Dolch saugenden und lutschenden Tante machte ihn
zwar ein kleines bisschen eifersüchtig, aber geilte ihn mindestens genauso
stark auf, wie die inzwischen näher herangerückte Lena, die sich ihres
Blazers entledigt hatte und eben dabei war, ihren knallengen Minirock
abzustreifen.
„Das ist ja unglaublich! Das Mädchen ist eine Transe! So was habe ich noch
nicht gesehen!" sprach Lena mit sonorer Stimme, als sie ohne zu zögern
damit begann, Simons Hose mit ihren langen, Rotnageligen Fingern zu öffnen
und seinen kerzengerade stehenden Schweif durch den geöffneten Hosenstall
ans Freie zu zerren. Simon stöhnte dumpf auf, als Lena ihre langen
feuerroten Nägel über des zarte Fleisch seiner hochsensiblen Eichel, hinab
über den dunkelblau adrigen Stamm, bis hin zu den noch immer in der Hose
gefangenen Eiern wandern lies. Sie kniete nun auf der Ledercouch und
Simons Blick wanderte bewundernd über ihren wohlgeformten, schlanken
Körper, der in eine Art knallroten, hautengen Nylon-Catsuit gehüllt war,
welcher ihre weiblichen Rundungen umso mehr hervorhub. Während Lenas
perfekt frisierter Blondschopf sich langsam seiner beständig Vorfreude
produzierenden Schwanzkrone näherte, reckte sie ihr vollreifes Hinterteil
steil empor und Simon bemerkte, dass der, wie eine zweite Haut sitzende,
schimmernde Nylonbody am unteren Ende eine breite Öffnung besaß, die exakt
von Lenas tropfnasser, glatt rasierter Möse bis hin zum oberen Ende ihrer
tieffurchigen Pokerbe reichte. Ihre hellen, saftigen Arschbacken hoben
sich fantastisch von dem rot glänzenden Stoff ab, der sie perfekt umrahmte
und als Simon sah, wie Lenas zweite Hand mit ihren langen feuerroten
Krallen genussvoll durch ihre Lustspalte fuhr, konnte er nicht anders, als
ihr seinerseits mit einer Hand durch die immer feuchter werdende
Arschspalte zu fahren und mit der anderen an den, unter dem hauchdünnen
Bodystoff prall hervorgetretenen, mit Goldringen gepiercten Nippeln zu
spielen. Lena dirigierte ihren Prachtarsch so, dass 2 von Simons lustvoll
tastenden Fingern wie von selbst in ihre nasse Pflaume glitten und dieser
begann damit, dass immer heißer werdende Loch der eleganten Geschäftsfrau
mit ihnen langsam zu ficken. Lena stöhnte genussvoll auf und umschloss
ihrerseits mit der anderen Hand Simons massives Rohr um es ebenso langsam
aber druckvoll zu wichsen. So stimulierten die zwei sich gegenseitig
stöhnend mit ihren Fingern und sahen gebannt Simons Tante zu, wie sie
Carmens pralles Fickinstrument immer tiefer in ihren fordernden Mund
saugte und mit ihren klauenartigen Fingern deren prächtigen Knackarsch
massierte. Mit einem genüsslichen Grunzen ließ sie den von ihrem Speichel
und Vorschmiere tropfnassen Riemen schließlich nach einiger Zeit aus ihrem
Mund gleiten und blickte zuerst zufrieden zu Carmen und schließlich auf das
direkt neben ihr mit intensivster Handarbeit beschäftigte Paar. „Wie ich
sehe, gefällt euch meine Überraschung!" lächelte sie lüstern und wichste
dabei mit festem Griff das direkt vor ihr prangende Glied ihres
‚Hausmädchens. „Du bist wirklich zu beneiden, Hanna!" stöhnte Lena hervor
und verstärkte ihren Griff um Simons adrigen Stamm nochmals. „Dein Neffe
hat den prachtvollsten Schwanz, den ich je gesehen habe und dein
Dienstmädchen kann sicher auch noch mehr, als putzen und kochen", fuhr
Lena neidvoll fort. Hanna antwortete ihr mit einem lüsternen Blick: „… und
du geiles Luder spielst wieder ungefragt mit Sachen, die eigentlich mir
gehören!" Dabei deutete sie auf Simons, von Lenas Hand fest umklammertes
Rohr und mit gebieterischer Stimme ergänzte sie: „Ich warne dich, Lena!
Bring ihn nicht zu früh zum spritzen! Simon weiß, dass er seinen Saft erst
abschießen darf, wenn ICH es ihm erlaube!!" Während sie dies sprach,
öffnete sie mit einer Hand die restlichen Knöpfe ihres Oberteiles und
streifte es lässig ab. Zum Vorschein kam die volle Pracht ihrer
atemberaubenden Brüste, die nur zur Hälfte durch die knallengen
Halbschalen einer schneeweißen Miederkorsage bedeckt waren, welche ihre
schmale Talje wespengleich zusammenschnürte. Carmen huldigte den
vollreifen, weiblichen Attributen ihrer Chefin mit einem lang gezogenen,
tiefen Seufzer, was Hannas Aufmerksamkeit wieder auf sie lenkte. „Na los,
mein Engel", forderte Hanna ihre Angestellte umgehend auf, „zeig uns, was
du noch zu bieten hast! Deine Schokotitten sind es ebenso wert, bewundert
zu werden, wie deine köstliche Kakaostange!" Das Dienstmädchen lächelte
erfreut, zog sich sogleich das eng anliegende Top über den Kopf und genoss
sichtlich die gierigen Blicke der Anderen auf ihre, auch ohne BH, stramm
abstehende Oberweite. Sicher war diese nicht so üppig geraten wie bei
Hanna, aber ihre ausgeprägte Form und die pechschwarzen, mindestens einen
Zentimeter abstehenden Nippel in den hart erigierten, 2 Eurostück großen
Warzenhöfen luden förmlich dazu ein, an ihnen zu saugen und zu nuckeln,
was Carmen auch umgehend tat. „Wollt ihr dem armen Mädchen nicht helfen?"
fragte Hanna Simon und Lena mit einem teuflischen Grinsen und winkte die
beiden zu sich. Simon war fast erleichtert, aus Lenas wichsender
Umklammerung befreit zu werden, denn lange hätte er ihren immer kräftiger
an seinem hoch erregten Geschlecht manipulierenden Fingern nicht
standhalten können und wand sich hinüber zu seiner sitzenden Tante und der
direkt vor ihr stehenden Carmen. „Gefällt sie dir?" fragte ihn Hanna mit
einem bohrenden Blick und ließ Carmens dunkelbraunes Glied provokativ
durch ihre ultra Langnageligen Finger gleiten. Simon wusste nicht so
recht, was er ihr antworten sollte. Einerseits war er von Carmens hübschen
Gesicht und ihren unbestreitbar mehr als weiblichen Formen vollauf
begeistert - Andererseits war er alles andere als Schwul oder etwa Bi, so
dass ihn ihr außergewöhnliches ‚Anhängsel doch ziemlich verunsicherte.
Seine Tante sah ihm dies sofort an, lies aber nicht locker dabei, den
Jungen wieder ein Stück weiter über konventionelle Grenzen hinaus zu
führen und es erregte sie sichtlich, ihr eigenes Patenkind, den einzigen
Sohn ihrer besten Freundin, immer tiefer in die endlosen Tiefen ihrer
sexuellen Fantasien zu entführen und ihn zu ihrem hemmungs- und
willenlosen Lustknaben zu formen.
„Lutsch an ihren Nippeln, das mag sie sehr!" hauchte Hanna Simon ins Ohr,
nachdem sie ihm mit ihren, von Carmens Vorschmiere glänzenden Lippen einen
kurzen aber feuchten Kuss auf seinen halb offen stehenden Mund gedrückt
hatte. Der 16jährige Teenager erhob sich von dem Ledersofa und stand nun
seitlich neben Carmen, die jede seiner Bewegungen mit flammenden Blicken
verfolgte. Vorsichtig griff Simon mit einer Hand an ihre Brüste, welche
das transsexuelle Hausmädchen ihm provokant entgegen streckte. Ungeduldig
ergriff sie seine tastende Hand und presste diese gegen ihr ungewöhnlich
festes Tittenfleisch sowie die steinhart erregten Nippel. Mit einem satten
Stöhnen zog sie seinen Kopf in Richtung ihrer rechten Brust und presste
seine erwartungsvoll geöffneten Lippen über die ebenso prall
hervorstehende Warze. Hanna wusste nur zu gut, dass ihr junger Neffe ein
absoluter Tittenfan war und glaubte daran, ihm durch den intensiven
Kontakt mit Carmens formvollendeten Lustkugeln die erste Scheu vor dem
bi-geschlechtlichen Wesen zu nehmen. Während Simon sich erwartungsgemäß
voller Hingabe seiner oralen und manuellen Brustmassage widmete, wichste
und leckte seine Tante nun abwechselnd an den 2 direkt vor ihrer Nase
pendelnden Schwänzen und ließ deren pralle, Vorfreude abseimenden Eicheln
ein ums andere Mal zusammen in ihren breiten, nimmersatten Mund gleiten.
Jedes Mal, wenn dies geschah, lief ein tiefer Schauer durch Carmens
schlanken Körper und Simon wahr ziemlich überrascht, dass auch ihn der
erste Kontakt mit einem anderen Glied durchaus nicht unangenehm war, zumal
dies zwischen den aufreizend geschminkten, vollen Lippen seiner Tante
geschah, geführt von deren einmalig erotischen Händen mit den
Raubtierfingernägeln, mit denen sie alles mit ihm machen konnte, was sie
wollte.
Lena hatte sich unterdessen ebenfalls erhoben und war auf ihren extrem
hochhackigen High-Heels dicht hinter das im Rausch der Gefühle schwelgende
Hausmädchen getreten, um ebenso ihren Teil dazu beizutragen, dass
ungewöhnliche Wesen dem erlösenden Orgasmus näher zu bringen. Mit ihren
elegant manikürten Händen liebkoste sie intensiv dessen ausladende
Pobacken und griff ein ums andere Mal von hinten an den glatt rasierten
Hodensack, um die darin verborgenen Testikel sanft zu erforschen. Carmen
drehte dabei tief stöhnend den Kopf zur Seite und sofort senkten sich
Lenas lasziv geschminkte Lippen auf die des „Mädchens". Wild tanzten die
neugierigen Zungen beider eng umschlungen, während Lenas forschende Finger
zärtlich durch Carmens enge Poritze glitten.
„Leck ihr den Arsch, Lena!" durchschnitt Hannas energische Stimme das
lüsterne Treiben scharf und ohne zu widersprechen, wanderte die weit
herausgestreckte Zunge der Angesprochenen willfährig an Carmens
kaffeebraunem Rücken hinab, leckte ausgiebig über deren herausgestreckten
Prachtarsch, um schließlich zielsicher das dunkel faltige Arschloch zu
finden und gekonnt zu stimulieren. Hanna wusste nur zu gut aus eigener
Erfahrung, dass dies bei ihrem Dienstmädchen alsbald zum erwünschten
Ergebnis führen würde und ergriff mit einer Hand einen der auf dem nahen
Couchtisch abgestellten Cognacschwenker. Während ihre andere Hand den
harten Schwanz ihrer Angestellten wie wild abwichste, leckte ihre spitze
Zunge unentwegt an der glänzenden Eichel, bis der nun von sechs Händen und
3 Mündern auf intimste Weise stimulierte Körper sich ekstatisch verkrampfte
und Carmen einen lang anhaltenden, dumpfen Seufzer aus ihrem halb
geöffneten Mund entließ. „Ja, du geiles Miststück!" jubelte Hanna
triumphierend: „Gib mir deine heiße Sahne - Deine Herrin will alles von
Dir!!!" Carmens Unterleib zuckte krampfartig nach vorn und Hanna
platzierte die kreisrunde Öffnung des Cognacschwenkers direkt unter der zu
platzen scheinenden Eichel, aus der nun in dickflüssigen, schneeweißen
Ergüssen süßlich duftendes Transen-Sperma hervorquoll und zäh in das
bereit gehaltene Glas floss. Mit großen Augen verfolgte Simon, wie seine
Tante den zuckenden dunklen Riemen weitermelkte, bis der Strom aus Carmens
Nillenkopf langsam versiegte und nur noch ein schmaler Faden von dem
Saftverschmierten Glasrand bis zur schmalen Harnröhrenöffnung hing.
Lüstern stöhnend nahm Hanna diesen mit ihrer endlos langen Zunge auf und
verteilte mit der Spitze das sämige Ejakulat auf ihren vollen, dunkelrot
geschminkten Lippen. „Das war sehr gut, Carmen!" lobte sie das langsam
wieder zu sich kommende Hausmädchen. „Du darfst dich jetzt umziehen gehen.
Wir brauchen dich und deine köstliche Schokostange sicher später noch
einmal", sagte Hanna mit funkelnden Augen, während sie ihren superlangen
Zeigefingernagel langsam in das Cognacglas eintauchte und Carmens üppigen
Erguss durch langsames Kreisen mit der dunklen Spirituose vermischte.
Carmen trat wie gewünscht beiseite, so dass Lena nun nahe vor der noch
immer auf dem Couchrand hockenden Hanna kniete und atemlos deren laszives
Treiben mit ansah. „Möchtest du mal kosten, Verehrteste?" fragte Hanna das
hellblonde Superweib, deren talentierter Leckmuskel soeben noch tief in
Carmens Darmausgang gewühlt hatte. „Oh ja, natürlich!" antwortete diese
dankbar und leckte den ihr dargebotenen, von sämig hellbraunem Schleim
triefenden Fingernagel unterwürfig der Länge nach sauber.
Simon stand splitternackt und mit hoch erhobener Lanze neben den beiden
Frauen und verfolgte gespannt, was weiter geschah. Während Lena unter
wohligem Stöhnen die besudelte Hand seiner Patentante mit Lippen und Zunge
sorgfältig säuberte, führte Hanna den nun gut gefüllten Schwenker an ihre
vollen Lippen und zu Simons Erstaunen trank sie das sämige Gemisch aus
Sperma und Cognac mit großen Schlucken in einem Zug aus. Der Anblick ließ
ihn vor Geilheit erzittern und zu allem Überfluss lies Hanna, nach dem sie
das Glas geleert hatte, den verbliebenen Rest des hellbraunen Sudes in
dünnen Fäden auf ihre fulminanten Brüste tropfen, wo ihre Langnageligen
Finger die duftende Mixtur langsam verrieben, bis die drallen
Fleischkugeln der Lust wie eingefettet glänzten. Längst hatte Simon wie
von selbst mit einer Hand seinen voll erigierten Phallus ergriffen und war
dabei, dem unmoralischen Treiben der beiden reifen Damen durch immer
schneller werdendes Wichsen seinen Tribut zu zollen. Doch seine Tante, die
den Jungen immer aus den Augenwinkeln beobachtete, wollte nicht, dass er
seinen Lebensspendenden Samen über sie verspritzen würde, ohne sein
mächtiges Glied vorher tief in sich gespürt zu haben. „Nimm die Finger von
deinem Schwanz und setz dich, Simon!" sagte sie gebieterisch und zog ihn
zu sich auf die Ledercouch. Hanna selbst erhob sich elegant und während
sie sich ihres Rockes entledigte, erlaubte sie der noch immer knienden
Lena gönnerhaft: „Du darfst an seinem Schwanz lutschen, aber unterstehe
dich, ihn zum Abspritzen zu bringen! Vorher will ich ihn ficken!!" Nur zu
gerne hätte sich Lena selbst den enormen Prügel des 16jährigen Jungen in
ihre triefende Lustgrotte geschoben, aber sie wollte Hanna nicht
verärgern, um in Zukunft vielleicht öfter von ihr zum ‚Kaffeeklatsch
eingeladen zu werden und so machte sie sich lustvoll mit ihren sinnlich
geschminkten Lippen über das steil aufragende Glied her. Dabei leckte ihre
samtige Zunge zuerst am stolzen Stamm in voller Länge auf und nieder, bis
das pulsierende Stück Männlichkeit vollends mit ihrem glänzenden Speichel
bedeckt war und Simon vor Lust leise wimmerte: „Oh ja, Frau deWinter, das
fühlt sich so gut an!" Lena lächelte ihn mit einem geilen Funkeln in den
Augen an, während ihre linke Hand seinen knackenden Hodensack anhob und
die prallvollen Eier zärtlich auf und abwog. „Aber Simon, ich habe dir
doch erlaubt, mich zu duzen. Hast du das etwa schon wieder vergessen?"
erwiderte sie schnurrend wie eine Katze und ihre roten Krallen kratzten
mit leichtem Druck über die dunkelblau glänzende Eichel. Dabei trat ein
dicker Schwall durchsichtiger Vorfreude aus dem engen Nillenloch aus,
welchen Lena mit ihren weichen Lippen aufnahm und genüsslich mit ihrer
Zunge in ihren hungrigen Mund leitete. Simon konnte sich an dem
unbeschreiblichen Anblick der sich ihm bot, wie sich diese reife, elegante
Traumfrau voller Hingabe seinem besten Stück widmete, nicht satt sehen und
war trotz all ihrer Behutsamkeit und Vorsicht kurz davor, seine volle
Ladung in ihr aufdringlich geschminktes Gesicht zu spritzen. Lena bemerkte
am immer stärker werdenden Schmierefluss aus Simons zuckender Eichel, dass
er, wenn sie mit ihrer Behandlung fortfahren würde, sich in Kürze in ihrem
Mund ergießen würde und zog sich den bebenden Stamm ein letztes Mal bis zum
Ende in ihren feuchtwarmen Rachen, um ihn dann seufzend und in endlos
erscheinender Langsamkeit, aus ihrem saugenden Schlund zu entlassen. „Na,
möchtest du deinen heißen Saft in ihr schönes Gesicht spritzen?" meldete
sich Hanna zu Wort, die inzwischen bis auf ihr weißes Miederbustier, sowie
die ebenso hellen Nylons und Lackpumps splitternackt war und die Szenerie
mit wachsender Erregung beobachtete. Simon nickte nur zustimmend und
stöhnte aus tiefster Brust, als er sah, wie seine Patentante sich an Lenas
oralen Stimulationen ergötzte. Mit einer Hand hielt sie eine ihrer schweren
Brüste fest umklammert und leckte mit lang herausgestreckter Zunge über den
weit hervorstehenden Nippel, während ihre andere Hand die siffende Spalte
zwischen ihren nylonbestrumpften Beinen hektisch auf und ab fuhr. Dabei
lies sie immer wieder 1 - 2 ihrer dekadent Langnageligen Finger in ihrem
Mösenloch verschwinden und leckte diese anschließend, dunkel aufstöhnend
vom eigenen Lustsaft sauber.
„Leck ihm lieber seine dicken Eier, Lena! Sonst kommt es ihm doch noch,
bevor er es seiner Tante besorgen kann!" warnte Hanna heiser und schwang
sich mit einem Bein über den tief ins Sofa gesunkenen Simon, so dass sich
ihre triefende, glatt rasierte Pflaume nun direkt vor dessen Gesicht
befand. „Na, mein Süßer! Hat es dich geil gemacht, wie ich vorhin Carmens
braunen Transenschwanz abgelutscht habe?" fragte sie den wie unter Hypnose
auf ihr abseimendes Loch starrenden Jungen. „Ja Tante! Das sah ultrascharf
aus!" antwortete dieser mit hochrotem Kopf. „So was wie sie habe ich noch
nie gesehen!" „Das glaube ich dir gern, mein Junge!" lachte sie aus voller
Brust und rutschte mit ihrem weit gespreizten Unterleib langsam immer
weiter an Simons schlankem Teenybody hinab, bis seine dick geschwollene
Eichel sanft gegen ihre ebenso blutgefüllten, äußeren Schamlippen stieß.
Dabei hinterließ ihre triefende, reife Schnecke eine breite Schleimspur
auf dem unbehaartem Körper ihres Patensohnes, welche sie mit ihren
Raubtierklauen auf seiner blassen Haut massierend verteilte. Simon zuckte,
wie von einem elektrischen Schlag getroffen, zusammen, als seine
empfindliche Schwanzspitze das bereitwillig geöffnete Geschlecht seiner
Tante berührte. Durch sein Zucken fuhr sein stählernes Rohr der Länge nach
über den pitschnassen Möseneingang der mehr als doppelt so alten Frau
hinweg, bis die tropfende Krone gegen deren engen Analring klopfte. „Aber
aber, junger Mann! Nicht so eilig!" ermahnte Hanna den unter ihr
verharrenden Teenager mit gut gespielter Entrüstung. „Zuerst wirst du
deine Tante brav in ihre hungrige Möse ficken und wenn du das gut machst,
darfst du danach vielleicht noch in meinen Arsch!" Natürlich war Hanna
ebenso versessen darauf, das Prachtstück ihres Neffen in ihrer engsten
Körperöffnung zu spüren, wie dieser, doch es bereitete ihr zusehends mehr
Freude, ihn wie einen Fisch an der Leine zappeln zu lassen, um sich an
seinem steigende Verlangen nach ihr zu ergötzen. Während sie über dem
pulsierenden Glied auf ihren weiß glänzenden High Heels hockend in
Stellung ging, drehte sich die vollreife Rothaarige zu der immer noch
schmatzend an Simons Hoden saugenden Blondine um und fragte diese
unverblümt: „Liebste Lena, wärst du bitte so gut und zeigst dem jungen
Deckhengst den richtigen Eingang in meine Fickspalte?" Sofort entließ Lena
Simons malträtierte Hoden aus ihrem saugenden Mund und antwortete lüstern
lächelnd: „Aber gern, Verehrteste! Wenn ich mich dafür auf sein niedliches
Gesicht setzen darf!?" „Was für eine anregende Idee! Natürlich darfst du,
aber erstick ihn nicht mit deinem geilen Prachtarsch! Wir wollen doch noch
länger was von ihm haben, nicht wahr?" „Oh ja, deswegen bin ich hier!"
erwiderte Lena deWinter wahrheitsgemäß und umfasste mit einer Hand Simons
senkrecht abstehendes Rohr, während die andere zärtlich seinen prallvollen
Hodensack knetete. Als Hanna ihren aufnahmebereiten Unterleib nun langsam
immer weiter absenkte, hielt Lena das pulsierende Stück Männlichkeit
zwischen ihren teuer geschmückten Händen und wichste ein paar mal
druckvoll den knallharten Stamm auf und ab. In dem Moment, als die von
Speichel und Vorschmiere glänzende Eichel die Blut gefüllten Schamlippen
seiner Tante teilte und wie durch ein weiches Stück warme Butter in ihre
nässende Lustgrotte glitt, entließ Lena den adrigen Schaft aus ihrem
druckvollen Griff, so dass Hanna ihren vollreifen Superkörper in einem Zug
auf den emporragenden Fickdorn ihres Neffen pfählen konnte. Beide, die
reife Frau, sowie der um so viele Jahre jüngere Teenager, stöhnten aus
tiefster Kehle ihre Lust über die Vereinigung ihrer beider sexhungrigen
Körper heraus und während Hanna mit steigendem Tempo damit begann, sich
auf dem glühenden Phallus ihres Patensohnes auf und ab zu bewegen, wahr
die direkt dahinter kniende Lena so gefesselt von dem unmoralischen Akt,
dass ihre Finger sich verselbstständigten und ihre nach Erlösung flehenden
Sexualzonen liebkosten. Erst Hannas und Simons schrille und inbrünstige
Lustschreie brachten ihr wieder ins Gedächtnis, dass sie von ihr ja die
Erlaubnis hatte, dessen so unschuldig blickendes Gesicht mit dem Zentrum
ihrer Weiblichkeit zu besteigen und eilig erhob sich Lena hinter dem in
wilder Ekstase kopulierenden Paar.
„Gott!! Dein Schwanz ist das beste Stück Fickfleisch, das ich je geritten
habe!!!" bekannte Hanna unter hysterischem Kreischen und bohrte sich die
empor zuckende Lanze ihres Neffen immer ungestümer in den auf und nieder
hüpfenden Luxusleib. Ihre megalangen Nägel hatte sie fest in die
unbehaarte Brust des Jungen gekrallt und ihre Melonenbrüste hüpften direkt
vor Simons Lust verzerrtem Gesicht im Takt ihrer Fickstöße laut klatschend
gegeneinander. Lena ergriff mit je einer Hand die hin und her schwingenden
Milchbälle Hannas und umkreiste mit ihren feuerroten Fingernägeln deren
extrem hervorgetretenen Nippel, während sie ihren, aus der eng anliegenden
Nylonstrumpfhose herausragenden Prachtarsch schwungvoll über Simons
schnaufenden Mund platzierte. „Gib mir deine Zunge!" forderte sie den
rhythmisch in das schmatzenden Fotzenloch seiner Stieftante
hineinstoßenden Jungen auf und dieser nahm seine Hände von den drallen
Arschbacken seiner ‚Rittmeisterin, um sie sofort auf die nicht minder
bewundernswerten Pohälften Lenas zu legen und durch weites Spreizen dieser
ihre triefnassen Löcher für seine, nach ihren Säften lechzende Zunge zu
öffnen. Auch Hanna streckte der ihr nun gegenübersitzenden Lena verlangend
die eigene, enorm lange Zunge entgegen und in wilder Leidenschaft
umschlungen sich die feuchten Leckmuskel der beiden reifen ‚Damen, bis
beide von Simons oralen Fertigkeiten und seinem empor hämmernden
Fickinstrument auf den Gipfel der Lust getrieben worden. Während ihre
Liebessäfte sich in heißen Sturzbächen über seinem Gesicht in seinen
Genitalbereich ergossen, umschlangen die 2 Frauen einander Halt suchend
und stöhnten die Wellen ihrer Orgasmen hemmungslos hinaus. Der Raum war
erfüllt von brunftigen, animalischen Geräuschen absoluter Wolllust, dem
feuchten Gegeneinanderklatschen schwitzender Körper und dem süßlichen Duft
von den Unmengen ausgetretener, reifer, weiblicher Körperflüssigkeiten.
Als erste der 2 Sexfurien, die wieder halbwegs bei klarem Verstand war,
brach Hanna das erschöpfte Schweigen nach diesem Orkan der Triebhaftigkeit
und stellte mit Entzücken fest, dass der von ihren spastisch zuckenden
Mösenmuskeln umklammerte Schwanz noch nicht leer geschossen war. „Unser
junger Stecher hat wirklich gelernt, sich zu beherrschen!" lobte sie den
von den heftigen Ejakulationen der beiden Frauen über ihm besudelten
Simon. Auch Lena öffnete langsam wieder die Lust gefüllten Augen und
lächelte die vor ihr hockende Hanna erschöpft aber befriedigt an. „Dann
hat er sich doch sicher eine Belohnung verdient, nicht wahr?" antwortete
sie mit einem süffisanten Unterton in der Stimme. „Was schlägst du vor,
meine Beste?" fragte Hanna neugierig zurück und entließ mit einem satten
Schmatzen den Mösenschleim beschmierten Lustknochen seufzend aus ihrem
Inneren. „Wie wäre es mit einem doppelten Tittenfick?" entgegnete Lena,
während auch sie ihren, vom eigenen Saft getränkten Schoß von Simons nach
Luft jappendem Gesicht erhob und sich seitlich von ihm auf den Boden
kniete. Mit ihren Rotkralligen Fingern streifte sie sich langsam das
knisternde Nylonoberteil ihres Bodys über die Schultern und entblößte
stolz ihre prachtvollen Traumbrüste, deren Goldringgepiercte Warzen durch
den ständigen Kontakt mit dem engmaschigen Kunststoff dick angeschwollen
waren. „Eine fabelhafte Idee!" jubelte Hanna euphorisch. Allein der
Gedanke, den spritzfreudigen Freudenspender ihres Neffen mal wieder eng
umschlossen zwischen ihren voluminösen Eutern zu spüren und ihn zusammen
mit Lenas Prachttitten abzumelken, ließen bei ihr erneut die Säfte
fließen. Genau wie Lena kniete auch sie sich, der hellblonden
Geschäftsfrau gegenüber, dicht neben Simons Lustzentrum und ließ ihre
schweren aber formfesten Brüste sanft über dessen, von ihrem Mösenschleim
glänzenden Lustknochen streifen. Auch Lena rückte nah an den, vor Geilheit
bewegungsunfähigen Jungen heran und mit den, von ihren Langnageligen,
kunstvoll manikürten Händen hauteng zusammengepressten Titten umschlossen
die beiden reifen Frauen den pulsierenden Steifen des 16jährigen. Als sich
dabei ihre hochsensiblen Brustwarzen berührten, stöhnten die beiden Frauen
lustvoll auf und ihre Zungen fanden sich zu einem innig lesbischen Spiel,
dessen frivoler Anblick Simon noch zusätzlich bis ins tiefste Innerste
erregte. Wie vom Blitz getroffen erwachte er aus seiner atemlosen Starre
und mit langen, rhythmischen Stößen fickte er seinen feucht glänzenden
Kolben zwischen die beiden fulminanten Tittenpaare, bis er es nicht mehr
aushalten konnte und flehentlich stöhnend stammelte: „ Oh Gott, bitte
Tante! Ich kann es nicht mehr halten! Bitte - darf ich spritzen?" Die in
Vorfreude auf eine gigantische Besamung schwelgenden Vollweiber
unterbrachen ihr Zungenspiel und blickten Simon erwartungsvoll in dessen
bettelnde Augen. „Na los, du Hengst!" schrie ihm Hanna geradezu ins
Gesicht, „Dann zeig uns mal, wie viel Ficksaft Du für uns hast!" „Oh ja!"
ergänzte Lena gierig lechzend, „Lass unsere dicken Titten in deinem heißen
Samen baden!" Diese Worte ließen bei Simon alle Dämme brechen und mit
einem markerschütternden Schrei stieß er seinen Mast ein letztes Mal
zwischen dem weichen Brüste der nun gebannt nach unten blickenden Damen
empor. Als seine dunkellila schimmernde Eichel pumpend zum Vorschein kam,
schoss bereits ein dicker weißer Strahl aus dem engen Loch an der Spitze,
gefolgt von nicht minder intensiven 4-5 weiteren Ladungen, die allesamt in
die, mit weit geöffneten Mündern und herausgestreckten Zungen, lechzenden
Gesichter der 2 Frauen klatschten und von dort in breiten Bächen über
Lippen, Wangen, Kinn und Hals auf die noch immer eng zusammengepressten
Lustberge flossen. Simons Unterleib zuckte ekstatisch in die schmale Lücke
zwischen den immer glitschiger werdenden Melkeutern seiner beiden
Entsafterinnen hinein und grunzte im Rhythmus seiner gewaltigen
Entladungen seinen Orgasmus hinaus.
Als das Ziehen in seinen entleerten Hoden langsam nachließ und das Zucken
des weiterhin steif stehenden Schaftes kaum noch wahrnehmbar war, erkannte
Simons verschleierter Blick, wie sich 2 hemmungslos liebestrunkene Frauen
die überdeutlichen Spuren seines üppigen Ergusses katzengleich gegenseitig
aus den besudelten Gesichtern schleckten, während sie mit ihren langen
Krallenfingern die weiße Soße glitschig glänzend auf ihren Traumbrüsten
verrieben. Bei diesem Anblick verlor sein soeben leer gepumptes Rohr
logischerweise nicht ein bisschen an Härte und Größe und als sich die
beiden nach getaner Zungenreinigung ihrer Gesichter dem mündlichen Säubern
seiner Genitalien zuwandten, war Simon im Himmel auf Erden und er ließ das
allein vom lauten Schmatzen und geräuschvollem Schlucken begleitete
Aufschlürfen seiner Liebesessens glücklich lächelnd über sich ergehen.
Ein lautes Klacken von hohen Absätzen lenkte Simons Aufmerksamkeit
schließlich ab, von den sich an seinen Säften labenden Damen, hin zur
breiten Salontür, durch die Carmen gerade grazil hindurch schritt. In den
Händen hielt sie ein neues Tablett mit 3 Campagnergläsern, die bereits
gefüllt waren. Lächelnd blickte sie Simon an und dann mit einem lüsternen
Funkeln in den Augen hinunter zu den noch deutlich von Simons Besamung
gezeichneten Hanna und Lena. „Möchten die Herrschaften eine kleine
Erfrischung?" fragte sie höflich und reichte jedem ein Glas des kühlen
Getränkes. „Oh Hanna", gab Lena etwas neidisch zu, „ich glaube, Du hast
Dir hier das Paradies neu erschaffen!" Simons Tante lachte laut und stieß
mit ihm und Lena an: „Darauf wollen wir trinken! Auf das ihr in meinem
Paradies jederzeit willkommen seit!" Sie leerte das Glas in einem Zug,
erhob sich anschließend und reichte es an Carmen zurück. „Ich brauche
erstmal eine kurze Pause!" trällerte sie fröhlich und im davongehen fügte
sie hinzu: „Ich nin sofort wieder bei euch, meine Lieben! Vergnügt euch
ruhig so lange ohne mich!" Damit verließ sie den Raum und man konnte ihre
Absätze die Treppe zum Obergeschoß emporsteigen hören.
Auch Simon und Lena waren inzwischen aufgestanden und hatten ihre Gläser
zurück auf das Tablett gestellt, welches Carmen immer noch in ihren
hübschen Händen hielt. Erst jetzt viel Simon schlagartig auf, dass das
Dienstmädchen sich komplett umgezogen hatte und ihr neues Outfit brachte
sein Blut erneut in Wallung. Ihr schlanker, wohlgeformter Körper war von
einen schwarz glänzenden Latexbody bedeckt, welcher aber an den Brüsten
und an ihrem hervorstehenden Hintern kreisrunde Ausschnitte hatte, durch
die ihre weiblichen Reize extrem stark hervorgehoben wurden. Das männliche
Teil an ihr war im Moment nicht zu sehen, da sie das besagte Tablett etwa
in Hüfthöhe hielt, was den tieferen Blick nach unten verwehrte. So
wanderte sein Blick über ihr stark gewölbtes Hinterteil hinab zu den
schlanken Beinen, die ebenso in fast hüfthohe schwarze Latexstockings
gehüllt waren, deren untere Enden in Lackstiefeletten mit mindestens 10 cm
langen Pfennigabsätzen verschwanden. Auch Lena ließ ihre lüsternen Augen
über Carmens pralle Formen wandern und während ihre linke Hand zart über
deren Hinterbacken streichelte, suchte ihre rechte unter dem Silbertablett
nach dem ‚gewissen Stück, welches Carmen so einzigartig machte. An deren
Reaktion konnte Simon unschwer erkennen, dass Lena schnell fündig geworden
war, denn dem Dienstmädchen entfuhr ein sehnsüchtiger Seufzer und fast
hätte sie vor freudiger Erregung das Tablett fallen lassen. Simon ging auf
sie zu und nahm es ihr aus den Händen, um es auf dem Tischchen abzustellen.
Dabei sah er, das Lenas rechte Hand kraftvoll wichsend um Carmens voll
erigiertes Glied geschlossen war, während ihre andere Hand von hinten
zwischen den leicht gespreizt stehenden Beinen hindurch mit den rot
lackierten Nägeln an dem unbehaarten, faltigen Hodensack zupfte. Die
Münder der vollbusigen Blondine und der dunkelhaarigen Transsexuellen
fanden sich zu einem intensiven Zungenspiel, welches Simon das Blut zurück
in die Lenden trieb. Schließlich steuerte Lena Carmen in Richtung eines
einzelnen Sessels und schupste sie mit einem sanften Stoß auf die ledernen
Polster. „Fick mich von hinten, während ich ihr den Schwanz lutsche!"
hauchte Lena Simon heiser ins Ohr und kniete sich breitbeinig vor das im
Sessel liegende Dienstmädchen. Aus ihrem perfekt geschminkten Mund ließ
sie eine gehörige Portion Speichel auf das sich direkt vor ihr
auftürmende, dunkelbraune Glied fließen und verrieb diesen mit einer Hand
über dessen gesamte Länge. Carmen begann ihren Unterleib rhythmisch Lenas
wichsender Faust entgegen zu stoßen und stöhnte aus tiefstem Innern, als
Lena ihren dunklen Kolben mit einem Hieb, fast bis zum Anschlag in ihren
gierigen Rachen schluckte. Inzwischen hatte sich Simon wie gewünscht
hinter der vorn übergebeugten Frau positioniert und bewunderte deren
hellen Prachtarsch, der provozierend aus der roten Nylonhose heraus quoll.
Mit einer Hand hielt er sein stocksteifes Rohr an dessen Wurzel fest und
ließ die blanke, dick geschwollene Eichel von oben nach unten und wieder
zurück zwischen Lenas tropfnasse Schamlippen gleiten. Er wollte diesen
Moment der ersten Penetration ihrer vollreifen Saftmöse so lange wie
möglich hinauszögern, doch die Gier der erfahrenen Frau nach seinem
Fickprügel war dermaßen groß, dass sie, durch einen einzigen Rückwärts
gerichteten Ruck ihres Hinterteils, das gesamte Stück Männlichkeit
förmlich mit ihrer lodernden Fotze verschlang und dabei einen glückseligen
Schrei der Wollust hervorstieß. Natürlich hatte Lena das enorme Glied des
erst 16jährigen Jungen bereits Gestern zu spüren bekommen. Doch da durfte
dieser, aufgrund der etwas eifersüchtigen Intension seiner Stieftante,
seinen Lustdolch „nur" in Lenas fast jungfräulichen Hintereingang
versenken. Heute aber wollte sie ihn da spüren, wo sich das Herz ihres
weiblichen Lustzentrums befand - tief in ihrer erfahrenen, sabbernden
Fickspalte. Als überaus attraktive, selbstständig Frau von Anfang 30 hatte
sie schon einige Schwänze ihren engen geschmeidigen Lustkanal durchpflügen
lassen, aber Simons junger, kerzengerader Prachtriemen war mit Sicherheit
einer der Besten, den sie jemals in sich gespürt hatte. Um ihren, fast
schon brutalen Rückstößen stand zu halten, hielt sich der Junge mit beiden
Händen an Lenas runden Hüften fest, während diese mit einer Krallenhand
Carmens Schokostange umklammerte und mit der anderen nach hinten greifend,
Simons Samensack druckvoll durchknetete. „Oh mein Gott!!!" jaulte sie
lustvoll, „Dein Schwanz ist wie geschaffen für mein Loch!!! Fick mich
durch, du Hengst! Lass mich Deine geile Fickstute sein!!!" Ihr, von
getrockneten Spermaresten gezeichnetes, aber immer noch elegant
erscheinendes Gesicht verzog sich zu einer Grimasse der Wollust und ihr
formvollendeter Traumkörper war nur noch zu einer einzigen Sache fähig:
Diesen perfekten Riemen abzuficken, bis ihr vor Geilheit die Sinne
schwinden würden! Auch Simon stöhnte seinen Trieb hemmungslos heraus und
blickte dabei verklärt in die dunkelbraunen, abrundtiefen Augen Carmens,
die inzwischen auf der Sitzfläche des Ledersessels kniete. Ihre schlanken
Hände hatte sie in Lenas blonder Hochfrisur vergraben und schob sich deren
grunzenden und röchelnden Mund bei jeder Vorwärtsbewegung so tief sie
konnte über ihren kaffeebraunen Transenschwanz. Die 3 waren so im Rausch
ihrer Gefühle gefangen, dass keiner bemerkte, wie Hanna wieder den Raum
betrat und das perverse Treiben aus wenigen Schritten Entfernung zufrieden
betrachtete. Erst, als sich Lena in unüberhörbarer Begeisterung einem
multiplen Höhepunkt näherte und schließlich lustvoll wimmernd zwischen den
immer rücksichtloser in sie eindringenden Schwänzen zusammenbrach, erhob
Hanna ihre durchdringende Stimme: „Ja - macht die geile Ficksau fertig!"
feuerte sie Carmen und Simon an. Dabei trat sie hinter den nun, wie
besessen in Lenas auslaufendes Mösenloch stoßenden Jungen und umfasste mit
ihren abnorm langen, schwarz lackierten Klauen dessen Hüften, um seinen
kraftvollen Stößen noch zusätzlichen Druck zu verleihen. Hannas lange
samtweiche Zunge leckte ihrem Neffen liebevoll den tropfenden Schweiß von
Hals und Nacken, bis sie fordernd in seine Mundhöhle stach und ihre
Leckmuskel sich feucht sabbernd umspielten.
Nach langen Momenten gegenseitiger Liebkosungen und langsam abebbenden
Stößen in den sich vor ihm in zuckender Ekstase windenden Frauenleib,
bemerkte Simon, wie seine Tante ihn langsam aber unnachgiebig aus der
kraftlos daliegenden Lena herauszog und sah seinen hochroten Fickdolch von
weißlichem Fotzenschleim beschmiert aus dem wund gestoßenen Loch ploppen.
Da er heute bereits zweimal gekommen war, viel es ihm nicht allzu schwer,
einen weiteren Orgasmus noch eine Weile hinauszuzögern und es gab auch
noch einige Löcher, in die er seine stolze Lanze heute versenken wollte.
Als würde Hanna seine Gedanken lesen, ließ sie ihre scharfen Krallen
sachte über den harten Phallus ihres Neffen streifen und hauchte ihm mit
rauchiger Stimme ins Ohr: „Na, mein junger Zuchthengst! Möchtest du dieses
Prachtstück nicht mal in Carmens enges Schokoloch stecken?" Simon
erzitterte bei ihrer Berührung wohlig und antwortete mit bebender Stimme:
„Oh ja, Tante! Sie hat wirklich einen megageilen Arsch! Ob sie es wohl
auch möchte?" „Natürlich will sie es, mein Kleiner!" gab Hanna lachend zur
Antwort. „Was glaubst du wohl, warum sie dich und deinen Prügel die ganze
Zeit so anschmachtet!" Sie winkte Carmen mit gekrümmtem Zeigefinger zu
sich heran und diese folgte der Aufforderung ihrer Chefin ohne zu zögern.
„Bevor du in ihren süßen Arsch darfst, musst du ihn aber erst bereitlecken
- du weißt doch wie, nicht wahr?" Während sie nun vor der
zweigeschlechtlichen Schönheit in die Knie ging, kniete sich Simon hinter
deren schokoladenbraunen Prachthintern und hörte aufgrund des schmatzenden
Geräusches, wie sich seine Tante die dunkle Stange bereits wieder zwischen
die grell geschminkten Lippen schob. Mit ihren megageilen Fingern umfasste
sie dabei Carmens schweißnasse Arschbacken und spreizte deren Pokerbe so
weit wie sie konnte. Direkt vor Simons fiebrigen Augen öffnete sich das
leicht faltige und feucht schimmernde Arschloch ein Stück weit. Gerade
weit genug, um seiner hervorstechenden spitzen Zunge mühelos Einlass zu
gewähren. Die kurvenreiche Brasilianerin stöhnte genüsslich auf und
bewegte ihr voluminöses Becken rhythmisch abwechselnd Simons forschendem
Leckmuskel in ihrem Darm und Hannas saugenden Lippen entgegen. Nach einer
Weile ließ Hanna von der saftig glänzenden Schokostange ab und gab auch
Simon die Erlaubnis, seine orale Massage an Carmens Enddarm einzustellen.
„Sie ist jetzt soweit, mein Schatz! Zeig ihr, wie ein richtiger Mann es
einer Frau besorgen sollte!" Ihre Worte knallten wie Peitschenhiebe in
Simons Ohren und während sich Carmen etwas nach vorn beugte, um nun selbst
mit ihren hübschen Händen ihre Pobacken auseinander zu ziehen, erhob er
sich hinter ihr, sodass sein fickbereiter Kolben an ihrer nass geleckten
Arschspalte entlang rutschte. Das Dienstmädchen spreizte erwartungsvoll
die latexbestrumpften Beine etwas weiter und Hanna, die noch immer vor ihr
am Boden hockte, griff mit zwei Langnageligen Fingern und Daumen um Simons
steil nach oben zeigendes Rohr, um es vor Carmens Hintereingang in
Stellung zu bringen. „Bist du bereit für das geilste Stück Fleisch, das
dein süßer Arsch je gesehen hat?" fragte die Hausherrin ihre Dienstmagd
ungeduldig und diese gab zur Antwort nur einen tiefen, zustimmenden
Seufzer von sich und sagte mit zittriger Stimme: "Oh ja, SIniora, ich
wollte ihn schon heute morgen, als ich ihn das erste mal gesehen
habe!"„Dann mach es ihr jetzt! Fick ihren heißen Schokoladenarsch tief und
hart. So hat sie es am liebsten!" Simon brauchte keine weiteren Anweisungen
und drückte seine rosarot glänzende Lanze, die noch immer von Lenas
Fotzenschleim ummantelt war, gegen den bereitwillig nachgebenden
Schließmuskel und drang mit einem satten, kräftigen Stoß in voller Länge
in Carmens Gedärm ein. Diese schrie dabei lustvoll auf, stemmte sich halb
vornüber gebeugt den folgenden nicht minder intensiven Attacken entgegen
und begegnete jeder erneuten Penetration ihrer engen Darmmuskulatur mit
nahezu animalischen Brunftlauten. Hannas gieriger Mund versuchte
erfolglos, nach Carmens, durch die brutale Wucht von Simons Fickstößen
wild hoch und runter schlagenden Penis zu schnappen und beließ es
schließlich dabei, den beiden wie besessen Arschfickenden die Samenreichen
Hoden zu kraulen.
Für Simon war Carmens Arsch innerhalb von 3 Tagen nun schon der 3 Hintern,
der seinem jugendlichen Fickdolch einen willkommenen Einlass gewährte und
er genoss jeden Stoß in den sich fest um seinen adrigen Stamm pressenden
Analkanal voller Stolz und Euphorie. Wenn er auch nur einen Bruchteil
seiner Erlebnisse an diesem Wochenende morgen seinen Freunden in der
Schule erzählen sollte, würden sie ihn für einen hoffnungslosen Spinner
halten. Aber das war ihm egal. Er wusste, dass er nichts sagen würde, denn
das einzige was jetzt noch für ihn zählte, waren diese 3 (oder 2,5)
unbeschreiblich Frauen, für die er buchstäblich alles tun würde, was sie
von ihm verlangten und der Rest der Welt war ihm egal.
Durch Simons ungehemmtes Stöhnen und Carmens lustvolle Schreie, die den
Raum messerscharf durchdrangen, kam auch Lena wieder langsam zu sich und
kroch katzengleich auf allen vieren über den dicken Salonteppich auf das
tabulose Trio zu. Hanna, die mit wachsender Erregung aus nächster Nähe den
Ritt ihres Neffen in den Arsch ihrer Hausangestellten beäugte, konnte nur
noch schwer ihre eigene Gier nach den direkt vor ihren Augen vor und
zurück zuckenden Schwänzen im Zaum halten. Ungeduldig unterbrach sie den
ungestümen Fick abrupt, indem sie, als Simons Rohr gerade wieder tief in
Carmens Rektum einfuhr, mit ihrem rot geschminkten Lippen nach seinen
Eiern schnappte und so lange energisch an ihnen zog, bis der Junge
freiwillig dem Zug ihres saugenden Mundes folgte und sein bockender Riemen
mit einem lauten Schmatzen aus Carmens gedehntem Enddarm flutschte. „Jetzt
will ich euch beide in mir haben!" sprach sie mit gierigem Blick auf die
beiden, vor ihrem Gesicht wippenden Glieder und leckte abwechselnd über
deren blanke Eicheln. Simons Tante fasste ihn bei den Händen und zog ihn
zu sich hinab, auf den flauschig weichen Teppich, wo er sich lang
ausgestreckt auf den Rücken legen sollte. Mit ihrem Wahnsinnshintern zu
ihm gewandt hockte sich die reife Frau direkt über seinen nervös zuckenden
Phallus und verharrte einen Augenblick, wie schwebend, mit extrem weit
gespreizten Beinen in dieser obszönen Position. Mit einer Hand griff sie
von vorn zwischen ihren Beinen hindurch nach hinten und hielt den
fickbereiten Schwengel ihres Neffen fest umklammert. Die andere Hand griff
hinter ihrem Rücken nach hinten und mit einem tiefen Grunzen ließ sie erst
einen und schließlich zwei ihrer gebogenen Fingernägel, die sie zuvor
reichlich mit ihrem Speichel benetzt hatte, zur Gänze in ihrem hellbraunen
Afterloch verschwinden. Simon stockte der Atem und er musste stark an sich
halten, um nicht allein durch diesen Anblick seine nächste Ladung Eiersoße
abzuschießen. Nachdem Hanna ihren Schließmuskel durch einige wenige
Fingerstöße weit genug gedehnt hatte, ließ sie die rabenschwarzen Krallen
wieder aua sich herausflutschen und hielt sie in Richtung von Simons halb
offen stehendem Mund. „Koste meinen Arsch, bevor er dich fickt!!" gebot
sie mit einem teuflischen Grinsen und der Junge saugte an den Klauen
seiner Tante wie ein hungriges Baby an der Mutterbrust. Inzwischen hatte
Hanna ihr ausladendes Becken so weit abgesenkt, das seine Schwanzspitze
gegen ihr faltiges, offen stehendes Arschloch drückte und bereits halb
darin versunken war. Sie hielt diese Position einige weitere kostbare
Augenblicke, bis ihre Beinmuskeln schließlich nachgaben und ihr
preiswürdiger Hintern sich mit seinem vollen Gewicht abwärts bewegte, um
sich buchstäblich selbst auf den glutheißen Dorn zu pfählen. Simon und
seine Tante schrien beide ihre Begeisterung über die dadurch erlebten
Gefühle ungehemmt hinaus und um den Moment dieser innigsten aller
Zweisamkeiten noch weiter auszukosten, bewegte sich Hanna so wenig wie
möglich und genoss das Erlebnis der völligen Ausfüllung ihres Darmes mit
allen Fasern ihres Traumkörpers.
Lena und Carmen hockten beide an jeweils einer Seite der beiden ineinander
versunkenen, altersmäßig so unterschiedlichen Körper und ließen ihre Hände
und Münder zärtlich forschend über diese streifen. Als Lenas Mund Simons
und Carmens Lippen die Hannas berührten, übernahm die Herrin des Hauses
wieder die Initiative und hauchte der dunkelhäutigen Schönheit heiser zu:
„Fick du mich jetzt von vorn in meine saftige Möse, bis wir alle zusammen
kommen. Füllt mich ab mit eurem heißen Samen!" Sich mit ihren überlangen
Krallen auf Simons Brust abstützend, lehnte sich Hanna etwas zurück und
vor Carmens Schokostange öffnete sich die nass glänzende Lustspalte,
bereit für einen fulminanten Sandwichfick. Die schöne Transsexuelle kniete
sich zwischen die unnatürlich weit gespreizten Beine Hannas und führte ihr
hoch erregtes Glied langsam zwischen deren dick geschwollene Schamlippen.
„Gib ihn mir endlich, du versautes Dreckstück!" zischte Hanna sie
ungeduldig an und ruckte, mit Simons Fickdorn im Arsch, Carmens Lustkolben
ein Stück weit entgegen. Das Hausmädchen umfasste seinen Kolben mit einer
Hand und ließ ihre glänzende Eichel durch Hannas Scham gleiten. Dann
schließlich, mit einem einzigen Ruck stieß sie nach vorn und das
dunkelbraune, dick adrige Rohr verschwand bis zur Hälfte zwischen den
tiefroten Mösenlippen der reifen Frau. Mit aller Anstrengung erhöhte sie
den Druck gegen Hannas auslaufendes Geschlecht und drang so unter deren
glücklichen Jaulen langsam immer tiefer in sie ein. Hannas pervers lange
Nägel krallten sich fest an Simons jugendlicher Brust und an der
Unterseite seines, tief im Anus seiner geilen Tante gefangenen Schwanzes
spürte er deutlich, wie sich Carmens Glied seinen Weg in die enge Möse
bahnte. Da sein Riemen einigen Platz in Hannas Unterkörper beanspruchte,
konnte das Hausmädchen nur langsam in denselben eindringen, was die
Einmaligkeit der Gefühle für alle drei aber nur noch verstärkte.
Schließlich gelang es Carmen, zusammen mit Simon einen langsamen, aber
intensiven Fickrhythmus zu finden und abwechselnd schmierten ihre beiden
Kolben Hannas enge Löcher, bis diese dem Höhepunkt ihrer Lust unaufhaltsam
entgegensteuerte.
Mit vor Erregung zitternden Fingern lag Lena rücklings hinter dem auf- und
nieder wippenden ‚Dreierpack und masturbierte wild mit ihren roten Nägeln
an Brustwarzen und Klitoris. Der Anblick dieser von zwei Traumschwänzen
gleichzeitig gevögelten Frau war das Geilste, was sie bisher gesehen hatte
und sie nahm sich fest vor, sich selbst auch bald einmal in der Mitte eines
solchen Sandwichs besteigen zu lassen. Sie neigte ihren Kopf ein Stück nach
vorn und ließ sich Simons flaumig behaarten Hodensack, der bei seinen lang
gezogenen Stößen auf und abschwang, über das schweißnasse Gesicht
streifen. Ihre lange, sabbernde Zunge umspielte abwechselnd seine und
Carmens Saft strotzenden Bälle und vollführte wahre Trommelfeuer an beider
Darmöffnungen. Hanna lag mittlerweile sextrunken rückwärts auf dem empor
stoßenden Jungen und war zu keinem klaren Gedanken mehr fähig. Alles was
sie spürten waren die 2 im perfekten Einklang in sie rein- und
rauspumpenden Schwengel und eine Orgasmuswelle überrollte sie nach der
anderen. Ihr hochrotes Gesicht lag direkt neben dem ihres Neffen und
zusammen mit der sie von vorn begattenden Carmen küssten sich die 3
lechzend unter atemlosen Schnaufen und Stöhnen. Lenas erfahrene
Wichsübungen waren ebenso bald von Erfolg gekrönt und unter Jammern und
Jaulen entlud sie den Saft ihrer Wund geriebenen Fotze auf ihre teuer
beringten, perfekt manikürten Hände. Nun fehlten nur noch Carmen und
Simon, um das ‚vierblättrige Orgasmuskleeblatt komplett zu machen und
Lena wusste exakt, wie sie die beiden um den Rest ihres verfickten
Verstandes bringen konnte. Sie führte die Schleim beschmierten Zeigefinger
beider Hände zielsicher durch die schwitzigen Arschkerben der zwei und
versenkte jeweils einen tief in deren sensiblen Darmkanälen. Mit ihren
zentimeterlangen Fingernägeln tastete sie sich bis zu den, spürbar hinter
den dünnen Darmwänden pochenden Prostata vor und molk diese förmlich mit
leichtem Druck ihrer sauber abgerundeten Kunstkrallen. Carmen und Simon
rissen wie vom Blitz getroffen die verklärten Augen auf und mit einem
letzten gemeinsamen Finalstoß, der auch Hanna erneut auf den Sexolymp
katapultierte, ergossen sie nicht enden vollenden Schüben gallertartigen
Spermas in deren zuckenden Leib.
Vollkommen erschöpft und schweißnass hielten sie sich noch eine lange Zeit
keuchend und küssend eng umschlungen. Als Hanna nach einer kleinen
Ewigkeit wieder Kontrolle über ihre Beinmuskeln bekam, rutschen die beiden
noch halbharten Glieder von Carmen und Simon aus ihren engen Lustkanälen
und als sie sich aufrichtete, lief ihr eine enorm duftreiche Mixtur aus
Sperma, Mösenschleim und Fickschweiß in breiten Bächen aus ihren offenen
Löchern und klatschte geräuschvoll in Lenas darunter liegendes Gesicht.
Diese trank soviel des nahreichen Nektars, wie sie nur konnte und
verschmierte sich den herauskleckernden Rest genussvoll auf Wangen, Hals
und Brüsten. „He, lass mir auch noch was übrig, du gieriges Luder!"
beschwerte sich Hanna scherzhaft und zog gemeinsam mit der neben ihr
knienden Carmen die Sperma besudelte Blondine zu sich hoch. Lena hatte
aber nicht vergessen, wie Hanna gestern mit ihr Simons reiche Ergüsse mit
ihr geteilt hatte und öffnete langsam ihre weißlich schimmernden, vollen
Lippen. Aus ihrem knallrot geschminkten Mund rann der köstliche junge Saft
des Lebens langsam in die, wie bei hungrigen Vogelkindern weit
aufgerissenen Mäuler von Hanna und Carmen und beide schluckten gierig das
klebrige Nass, bis nichts mehr nachkam. Simon erhob sich ebenfalls noch
leicht benommen und zu viert trafen sich die Lippen und Zungen aller zu
einem endlos erscheinenden, allerletzten feuchten Leckspiel.
Wiedereinmal entwand sich Hanna als erste aus dem innigen Kreis und
verkündete, nach einem kurzen Blick auf die Uhr süffisant: „Für heute muss
jetzt aber leider Schluss sein, meine Lieben! Es ist bald sechs Uhr und
wenn ich Simon nicht pünktlich nach Hause bringe, denken seine Eltern
noch, dass ihm etwas zugestoßen ist. Also - husch - husch! Macht euch
startklar!" Alle erhoben sich widerwillig aus ihrer intimen Umklammerung
und Hanna gab jedem einen letzten kurzen Zungenkuss. „Keine Angst! Wir
werden uns gewiss bald wieder sehen!" rief sie Simon und Lena zu und
entschwand nach oben in ihr Bad.
---------------------------------------------------- - --- -
seVac - erotische Geschichten im Netz!
http://www.seVac.com
-
Die Patentante Teil 2 (Im Nagelstudio)
Das Lesen der folgenden Geschichte ist Jugendlichen unter 18 Jahren untersagt.
Bitte sorg dafür, dass sie Jugendlichen nicht zugänglich gemacht wird. Jegliche
Weiterverbreitung ist, wenn nicht ausdrücklich anders angegeben, untersagt!
-=Die Patentante Teil 2 (Im Nagelstudio)=-
AutorIn: molicker
eMail: Der Autor kann nur via Web-Formular auf sevac.com kontaktiert werden!
Datum: 9.2004
Quelle: Autor
---------------------------------------------------- - --- -
Die Patentante Teil 2 (Im Nagelstudio)
Als Simon am Morgen danach erwachte, lag er noch immer auf dem ledernen
Diwan - auf welchem ihn seine eigene Patentante gestern Abend nach allen
Regeln der Kunst verführt und sich an seinen Körpersäften gelabt hatte.
Nachdem er es der sinnlichsten Frau die er kannte, ihren erfahrenen
Anweisungen blind folgend, besorgt hatte, wie kaum ein Zweiter es jemals
getan hatte, war er in ihren warmen Armen und mit dem Kopf zwischen ihren
weichen Brüsten sanft eingeschlummert. Nun aber lag er allein und
splitternackt, nur von einer kuscheligen Wolldecke bedeckt in dem riesigen
Wohnzimmer und war sich nicht mehr ganz sicher, ob er die Ereignisse der
letzten Nacht nur geträumt hatte, oder ob dies alles wirklich real gewesen
war. Doch in seinem Mund schmeckte er noch das unnachahmliche Aroma ihres
reifen Mösensaftes, von dem er nie genug bekommen würde und als er an sich
hinuntersah war sein ganzer Körper, vom Gesicht bis zur Schwanzspitze, noch
mit den deutlichen Spuren des dunkelroten Lippenstiftes seiner Tante
übersät. "Gott sei Dank!" schoss es ihm durch den Kopf, "Es ist also alles
in Wirklichkeit geschehen!" Seine eigene Patentante hatte ihn an seinem 16.
Geburtstag zum Mann gemacht und er erinnerte sich noch, dass er das ganze
Wochenende bei ihr bleiben durfte, während ihr Mann im Ausland auf
Geschäftsreise war. Sofort war sein mit Lippenstift bedeckter Schwanz
wieder zu stattlicher Größe gewachsen und Simon erhob sich von seinem
Lager, um in der riesigen Villa nach seiner Tante zu suchen.
Da er nicht wusste, ob dass Hausmädchen heute Dienst hatte und er nicht
nackt von diesem erwischt werden wollte, zog er sich rasch seinen Slip und
seine Jeanshose über, die immer noch dort am Boden lagen, wo er sie gestern
fallen gelassen hatte. Simon ging in die Diele und hörte von dort
Geschirrgeklapper aus der angrenzenden Küche. Als er wortlos die große
Wohnküche betrat, sah er sie: Die Frau, deren anbetungswürdigen Körper er
gestern genießen durfte, war bereits in Gesicht und Haaren wieder perfekt
gestylt, trug aber nur ihren knappen schwarzen Morgenrock von gestern
Abend, der ihre mehr als vollen Rundungen kaum verhüllen konnte und
sollte. An ihren schlanken Füßen trug sie ebenso schwarze Plüschpumps und
wandte Simon den Rücken zu, so dass sie nicht sah, wie er die geräumige
Küche betrat. Interessiert sah er ihr schweigend zu, wie sie den
Kühlschrank öffnete, mit ihren eleganten, teuer beringten und
Langnageligen Fingern geschickt 6 Eier herausnahm und diese professionell
am Pfannenrand zerschlug, um ein dickes Omelett zu braten. Simon war
einfach fasziniert von der Schönheit ihrer Hände und deren
unbeeinträchtigter Geschicklichkeit, trotz der mehr als 6 Zentimeter
langen, leicht nach unten gebogenen Fingernägel. Gerade wollte Hanna den
Herd einschalten, da bemerkte sie den mittlerweile fast direkt hinter ihr
stehenden, stillen Bewunderer und drehte sich nun ihrerseits zu ihm um.
"Oh - da ist ja mein starker Hengst endlich aufgewacht!" flötete sie
freundlich lächelnd, "Na - hattest du denn schöne Träume heute Nacht?"
Simon errötete leicht und antwortete: "Ja Tante, sehr schöne - von dir!"
"Du bist lieb!" strahlte Hanna ihren Neffen an und gab ihm einen zarten
Kuss mit ihren dunkelrot geschminkten, vollen Lippen. Als Simon ihren Kuss
allerdings erwidern wollte und seine Zunge durch ihre Lippen hindurch in
ihren Mund gleiten ließ, stieß sie ihn sanft zurück und sagte: "Nicht so
eilig mein Kleiner - jetzt wird erstmal anständig gefrühstückt. Du hasst
doch bestimmt einen Bärenhunger - oder?" Simon nickte und war ob seiner
forschen Attacke etwas verlegen. Seine Tante wand sich wieder den in der
Pfanne schmorenden Eiern zu und er selbst setzte sich an den bereits
fertig gedeckten Tisch. "Carmen, unser Hausmädchen, hat ihr freies
Wochenende. Aber für ein stärkendes Frühstück reichen meine Kochkünste
noch aus. Heute Abend können wir ja schick Essen gehen - wenn Du magst!?"
versuchte Hanna die Atmosphäre wieder etwas aufzulockern. "Ja, das wäre
bestimmt toll!", antwortete Simon zustimmend, obwohl er im Moment an alles
andere als ans Essen dachte. Nach etwa 5 Minuten hatte Hanna das üppige
Omelett fertig gebraten und stellte es Simon dampfend auf den Tisch und da
es wirklich köstlich aussah und ebenso roch, machte sich Simon sogleich
darüber her und hatte es nach kurzer Zeit restlos verspeist. "Das war
wirklich lecker, Tantchen", sagte Simon artig und wollte gerade, wie er
dass von zu Hause gewohnt war, den Teller in die Spüle stellen, da drückte
ihn Hanna mit beiden Händen sanft aber energisch wieder auf den Stuhl
zurück und sagte: "Aber das war doch nur die Vorspeise, mein Liebling. Das
Hauptgericht wartet noch auf dich!" Dabei schob sie den Teller beiseite und
setzte sich mit ihrem ausladenden Hinterteil direkt vor den staunenden
Simon auf den breiten Küchentisch. Elegant kreuzte sie ihre Beine hinter
seinem Rücken und während sie mit einer Hand den hauchdünnen, seidig
schwarzen Tangaslip beiseite schob blickte sie ihrem jungen Neffen tief in
die Augen und sagte: "Jetzt darfst du dich an mir satt Essen!", was sich
Simon nicht zweimal sagen lies.
Hellbraun und einladend feucht glänzend lugten die dicken Schamlippen von
Tante Hanna unter dem von ihr mit 2 Fingern zusammengerafften Tangazwickel
hervor und der große Lustknopf am oberen Ansatz ihrer reifen Spalte stach
bereits unübersehbar weit hervor. Simons Mund näherte sich diesem Paradies
der Sinne fast ehrfürchtig bedächtig, so dass er den himmlischen Duft,
welcher der tiefen Grotte seiner Patentante entströmte, genüsslich in sich
aufnehmend konnte. Als seine Lippen ihren bebenden Schambereich sanft
berührten und zärtlich an den dick geschwollenen Lappen zu saugen
begannen, konnte Hanna sich nicht weiter zurückhalten und mit den keuchend
hinaus gestöhnten Worten: "Leck mich jetzt richtig - so wie ich es dir
beigebracht habe, die kleine geile Drecksau!!!" drückte sie den Kopf ihres
Neffen mit der einen, noch freien Hand, mit aller Kraft gegen ihren
Unterleib, so dass Simon glaubte, sein Gesicht würde von der nimmersatten,
schleimenden Möse aufgesogen werden. Der Geilsaft aus ihrem Inneren
sammelte sich alsbald in seinem ohne Pause züngelndem und saugenden Mund,
und um Nichts des geliebten Nektars zu vergeuden, schluckte ihn Simon
regelmäßig hinunter, bis ihm, wohl auch vom immer intensiver werdenden
Duft des Sekretes, fast die Sinne zu schwinden drohten. Hanna merkte
rasch, dass der wie besessen mit seiner langen Zunge in sie fickende und
saugende Junge den von ihr so ersehnten Zungenfick wohl nicht bis zu ihrem
Höhepunkt weiterführen könnte und um ihm eine kleine Verschnaufpause zu
gönnen, nahm sie sein mit ihrem Fotzeschleim beschmiertes Gesicht zärtlich
zwischen ihre eleganten Hände und legte es zwischen ihre atemberaubenden
Brüste. Zwischen den sich auftürmenden Tittenbergen seiner Tante wischte
sich Simon den zähen Brei von den Wangen und lutschte sodann die hart
hervorgetretenen dunkelbraunen Brustwarzen seiner Tante, bis diese kehlig
flehte: "Bitte - mach mich jetzt fertig und leck mir den Kitzler mit
deiner göttlichen Zunge! Ich kann nicht mehr warten!!" Simon gehorchte,
doch bevor er sich mit aller Hingabe dem von ihr, zwischen 2 ihrer
superlangen dunkelroten Nägel präsentierten Lustknoten widmete, zog er der
am ganzen Leib vor Geilheit zitternden Frau den Slip über die ausladenden
Hüften und spreizte ihre langen Beine mit beiden Händen so weit er konnte
nach hinten. "Oh mein Gott! Du bist der Beste!!!" jammerte Hanna
weinerlich, als ihr Patenkind ihren dicken Wonnepunkt, der glänzend
zwischen den Fingernägeln hervorlugte, mit seiner Zungenspitze umspielte
und liebkoste. Aus ihrem dampfenden Loch floss der Lustsirup in Strömen
und sammelte sich in einer markant duftenden Lache zwischen ihren Beinen
auf dem Küchentisch. Mit letzter Kraft ergriff Hanna eine Hand des sie so
voller Hingabe befriedigenden Jungen und führte sie zwischen ihre weit
gespreizten Schenkel. "Steck mir deine Finger rein", hauchte sie fast
unhörbar und der gehorsame Liebeslehrling führte erst einen und kurz
danach zwei Finger in die überlaufende, heiße Möse ein. Hanna stöhnte laut
auf, als beide Finger in ihr steckten und deutete sogleich mit dem Nagel
ihres Zeigefingers auf ihr aufnahmebereites Poloch, an dem der
Fotzenschleim unablässig hinab lief und auf den Tisch tropfte: "Hier auch
", weiter kam sie nicht, denn als Simon den Mittelfinger aus ihrer Fotze
zog und ohne zu zögern tief in ihr enges Arschloch bohrte, durchfuhr sie
ein erdbebenartiger Orgasmus, der ihr Innerstes nach Außen kehrte und sie,
wie von wilden Dämonen besessen, heiser aufjaulend durchschüttelte.
Als die stoßartigen Wellen ihres Höhepunktes langsam ausklangen, stützte
sich Hanna auf ihren Unterarmen ab und streichelte dem immer noch mit dem
Gesicht in ihrem Schoss vergrabenen Simon zärtlich mit den langen Nägeln
durch das wild zerzauste Haar. "Du lernst wirklich schnell!" lobte sie ihn
aufrichtig und zog seinen Kopf zu sich hoch. "Jetzt möchte ich dich genauso
schön fertig machen!" schnurrte sie mit geschürzten Lippen und küsste ihn
wieder nur kurz auf die seinen. "Zieh die verdammte Hose endlich aus!"
wies sie Simon energisch an und legte sich geschwind bäuchlings auf den
Küchentisch. Ihr Oberkörper ruhte nun auf ihren fulminanten Brüsten und
ihr bezaubernder Arsch reckte sich wie eine überdimensionale, vollreife
Birne nach oben. Simon konnte sich noch immer nicht satt sehen an diesem
Inbegriff der Weiblichkeit, zumal seine Tante ihren durchsichtigen,
knappen Morgenrock noch trug, der ihre prallen Reize nur noch unterstrich.
Da sie ihre Unterschenkel leicht angewinkelt hatte, baumelten ihre
schlanken Füße mit den sexy Plüschpumps in der Luft und ihr Gesicht war
exakt auf der Höhe von Simons viel zu eng gewordenem Slip, über den sie
nun aufreizend langsam ihre überlangen Nägel gleiten lies. "Jetzt wird es
aber höchste Zeit, dass ich auch endlich mein Frühstück bekomme!" lächelte
sie ihn neckisch an und zog dem Jungen den straff gespannten Slip mit einem
kräftigen Ruck über den Arsch nach unten. Sein logischerweise steinharter
Schwanz, auf dem noch der Lippenstift ihrer gestrigen Liebkosungen klebte,
schlug ihr sogleich mit einem lauten Klatschen ins Gesicht und wurde von
ihren vollen Lippen umgehend in die Zange genommen. Während die rot
geschwungenen Lippen seiner Tante sich am adrigen Schaft seines Gliedes
entlang tasteten, spürte Simon, wie die Unterseite seines mächtigen Rohres
durch ihre lüstern dargebotene Zunge auf eine unbeschreibbar geile Weise
stimuliert wurde. So glitt der atemberaubende Mund einer Göttin an seinem
bis zum Bersten erigierten Riemen hoch und runter, bis diese ihr geiles
Treiben kurz unterbrach und den still genießenden Jungen fragte: "Na, mein
Kleiner, möchtest du deine Tante mal so richtig tief in den Mund ficken?"
"Oh ja, Tantchen!" antwortete ihr Simon rasch und umfasste ihren Kopf mit
beiden Händen. Hanna stütze sich auf ihren Unterarmen ab und begann, erst
sehr sanft und dann stetig etwas heftiger werdend, dem leicht breitbeinig
vor ihr stehenden Sohn ihrer besten Freundin die überquellenden Hoden mit
ihren Klauenartigen Fingern zu massieren. Mit dem Zeigefingernagel der
rechten Hand sammelte sie an Simons nässender Eichelspitze die bereits
üppig hervorquellende Vorschmiere und massierte ihm diese umgehend mit der
abgerundeten Nagelspitze auf das bisher unberührte Poloch. "Na gut",
beschloss Hanna nun die Sache auf die Spitze zu treiben, "dann ficke ich
dich in den Arsch und du mich in den Mund! Einverstanden?" Wahrscheinlich
war Simon nicht bewusst, was diese Edelschlampe mit ihm anstellen wollte
oder es war ihm mittlerweile auch egal - jedenfalls griff er mit seinen
Fingern fest in ihre Hochtoupierten, dunkelroten Haare und stieß ihr
seinen knochigen Ständer tief in den fordernd geöffneten Mund. Als Hanna
den mächtigen Hammer ihres Neffen so tief es ging in ihrer nimmersatten
Kehle spürte, machte sie sich daran, mit dem langen Nagel des rechten
Zeigefingers, sein jungfräuliches Arschloch zu penetrieren. Obwohl sie
dabei sehr vorsichtig war und den Jungen keinesfalls überfordern wollte,
war das Durchdringen seines Schließmuskels mittels ihres dekadent langen
Fingernagels für Simon eine recht schmerzhafte Erfahrung, die aber sehr
bald in ein bisher unbekanntes, fremdes Wohlbefinden umschlug. Je tiefer
ihr Finger in seinem engen Enddarm vordrang, umso mehr überwand er seinen
ersten Schreck und genoss das einmalig Gefühl seiner analen
Entjungferung.
Erst langsam und dann immer schneller werdend, bewegte Simon sein Becken
vorsichtig vor und zurück, so dass immer, wenn sein steifes Rohr in Hannas
weit geöffnetem Mund verschwand, ihr bohrender Finger ein kleines Stück aus
seinem jungen Knackarsch glitt und bei der anschließenden Rückwärtsbewegung
wieder einfuhr. Hierdurch kratzte ihr leicht gebogener Nagel, der sich
seinen Weg immer wieder sanft durch seinen Hintern ertastete, mehrmals
über Simons dick geschwollene Prostata, die den Saft für seinen ersten
Abschuss barg. Die unbekannte Reizung seiner pralle Lustdrüse lies Simon
ein ums andere mal erschaudern und er fühlte, wie aus eben dieser sein
heißer, gallertartiger Samen in den, immer tiefer in den Mund seiner
Patentante fickenden, Schwanz gepumpt wurde. 2 oder 3 lange Stöße hielt er
noch durch, doch als Hanna den Finger in seinem Darm langsam zu drehen
begann und zusätzlich beim wieder ausfahren seines zuckenden Riemens aus
ihrem nimmersatten Mund, mit ihren Zähnen leicht über die zum zerreißen
gespannte Haut der tiefblauen Eichel knabberte, gab er sich dem
Unvermeidlichen erleichtert aufstöhnend hin. Mit beiden Händen stülpte er
den Rotgelockten Kopf seiner Tante keuchend über sein absaimendes Rohr und
Hanna biss ihm dabei zärtlich aber deutlich fühlbar, direkt unterhalb der
wild abpumpenden Eichel in die empfindliche Schwanzhaut. Simon jaulte laut
auf, doch das Lutschmonster an seinem zuckenden Penis entließ diesen erst
wieder aus ihrer oralen Umklammerung, als der Quell seiner Männlichkeit
vollends versiegt schien und sie dankbar grunzend den warmen Samen mit
großen Schlucken in sich aufgenommen hatte. Erschöpft lächelnd lies Hanna
den geschundenen, Samen beschmierten Dödel aus ihrem besudelten Mund
gleiten und die Reste seiner hengstartigen Ejakulation flossen ihr über
die sinnlichen Lippen und tropften auf den dunkelbraunen Küchentisch,
zusammen in eine große Lache mit dem von ihr zuvor verströmten
Mösenschleim. Als sie auch ihren, tief in seinen Anus getriebenen Finger
wieder sachte herausgezogen hatte, ließ sich Simon erschöpft auf den
hinter ihm stehenden Stuhl fallen und beobachtete, wie sich auch seine
Tante langsam aus ihrer liegenden Position erhob. Etwas wackelig auf den
langen Beinen stieg sie wieder vom Küchentisch herab und nahm sich Simons
noch halbvolles Orangensaftglas mit den Worten: "Es geht doch nichts über
ein ausgewogenes Frühstück aus gesunden Natursäften!" Sie hielt das Glas
an den Rand des Tisches und mit der anderen Hand schob sie den breiigen,
herb duftenden Schleim ihrer Orgasmen zusammen und ließ diesen über den
Tischrand in den Orangensaft fließen. Als der Tisch gesäubert schien und
sich der weißliche Sud in dem nun fast wieder vollen Glas befand, nahm sie
einen ihrer dekadent Langnageligen Finger, rührte damit in der zähen
Flüssigkeit, bis diese sich zu einem dünnflüssigen Nektar verbunden hatte
und trank das Glas mit großen Schlucken in einem Zug leer. "Köstlich!!"
seufzte sie lächelnd und winkte dem fassungslos zuschauenden Simon zu sich
heran. "Jetzt darfst du deine Tante richtig küssen!" sagte sie und berührte
zärtlich sein jugendliches Gesicht, in dem noch Reste ihres Fotzensaftes
klebten. Simon öffnete seinen Mund ein wenig und eng umschlungen küssten
sie sich, bis Hanna ihn leicht von sich schuppste und sagte: "Dusch dich
jetzt bitte, mein Jungbrunnen! Ich habe in 1 Stunde einen Termin in meinem
Nagelstudio und ich möchte, dass du mich begleitest!"
Als Simon frisch geduscht und komplett angezogen die Treppe hinunter kam,
wartete Hanna bereits auf ihn in der Eingangshalle ihrer Vorstadtvilla.
"Schick - Schick!" rief sie, als er endlich vor ihr stand, obwohl er nur
ein frisches weißes T-Shirt und seine Jeans von gestern angezogen hatte.
Sie hingegen hatte sich wieder perfekt gestylt: Frisches Make-up
aufgelegt, die Lippen und die Lidschatten sehr dunkel, fasst schon schwarz
geschminkt und die dunkelroten Haare leicht hochgesteckt. An ihrem
anbetungswürdigen Körper trug sie einen wahrscheinlich sündhaft teuren,
tiefschwarz glänzenden und eng anliegenden Lederanzug und ihre Füße
steckten in oberschenkelhohen, ebenfalls hochglänzenden schwarzen
Schaftstiefeln, deren Pfennigabsätze mindestens 15 cm lang waren. Dadurch
war sie nun ein ganzes Stück größer als Simon, der mit seinen Turnschuhen
immerhin auch fast 1,85 m groß war und sich fragte, wie seine Tante mit
diesen Stiefeln überhaupt gehen konnte. Doch als sie sich umdrehte und mit
wippendem Hintern und klackenden Absätzen Richtung Garage stolzierte,
konnte der Junge ihr nur staunend hinterher sehen, bis sie ihn mit den
Worten: "Jetzt komm endlich! Ich habe einen Termin!" aus seinen Gedanken
riss und er hinter ihr her hechelte.
Die Fahrt zum Nagelstudio, während der Hanna mit ihrem Neffen eine kleine
Diskussion über Treue und Eifersucht führte, dauerte etwa eine
Viertelstunde. Hanna parkte den Mercedes direkt von dem Eingang und
beendete den Dialog mit dem Satz: "Ich erwarte von dir keine ewige Treue,
mein Liebling. Aber ich möchte es von dir erfahren, wenn du mal scharf auf
eine andere Frau sein solltest! Haben wir uns verstanden?" Simon errötete
leicht antwortete verlegen: "Ich werde niemals eine andere Frau als dich
lieben können, Tante Hanna. Du bist meine Göttin und ich gehöre nur dir!"
Er ahnte nicht, wie bald seine schönen Worte auf eine harte Probe gestellt
werden würden
Das Nagelstudio, lag in einer kleinen Seitenstraße, mit relativ wenig
Publikumsverkehr. Doch der von Außen recht unscheinbar wirkende Laden mit
dem Namen "Magic Nails" war Innen aufs modernste eingerichtet, mit
marmoriertem hellen Fußboden und raffiniert beleuchteten Bildern an den
hellen Wänden. Auf all diesen Bildern waren nur Frauenhände zu sehen, mit
mehr oder weniger langen Fingernägeln, aber alle sehr gepflegt und
kunstvoll lackiert. Als Hanna auf ihren Highheel-Stiefeln laut klackend
durch den Raum schritt, kam ihr eine große Blondine mit superlangen,
glatten Haaren sofort lächelnd entgegen. "Hallo Hanna, da bist du ja! Ich
freue mich!" begrüßte sie die ebenfalls groß gewachsene Frau, deren Alter
Simon auf etwa 30 Jahre schätzte und die einen knappen weißen Rock mit
einem ebensolchen Blazer trug. Die beiden Frauen umarmten sich herzlich
und küssten sich auf die Wangen. "Ich habe noch jemanden mitgebracht",
sagte Hanna und deutete auf den etwas hinter ihr stehenden Simon: "Das ist
mein Neffe Simon. Er ist ein paar Tage bei mir zu Besuch und war so nett,
mich zu begleiten." "Hallo Simon! Ich bin Lena de Winter und mir gehört
dieser Salon", begrüßte die blonde Frau auch Simon und ergriff seine
rechte Hand mit beiden Händen. Simon sah auf ihre gepflegten,
langfingrigen Hände und sofort vielen ihm die etwa 3 cm über die
Fingerkuppen ragenden Nägel auf, die im Gegensatz zu den leicht gebogenen
seiner Tante, kerzengerade gewachsen waren. Außerdem waren sie feuerrot
glänzend lackiert, was sehr gut zu der sonnengebräunten Haut und dem
weißen Outfit von Frau de Winter passte. Lena bemerkte, wie der Junge ihre
makellosen Hände anstarrte und kratzte ihm mit dem Nagel des Mittelfingers
leicht aber spürbar über die Handfläche, als sie sich wieder seiner Tante
zuwendete. "Wollen wir uns nicht setzen?" fragte sie und deutete mit dem
Zeigefinger auf eine kleine Sitzecke im hinteren Teil des Salons. Lena und
Hanna gingen scherzend Arm in Arm voran, während der unablässig auf die 2
hin- und herwippenden Prachthintern vor ihm starrende Junge hinterher
schritt. Lena ließ Hanna und Simon auf einem gemütlichen Zweiersofa Platz
nehmen und setzte sich selbst auf einen einzelnen Sessel gegenüber. Auf
dem großen Glastisch dazwischen lagen allerlei Prospekte und
Zeitschriften, die sich um Hand- und Nagelpflege drehten. Hanna nahm eine
der Zeitschriften in die Hand und blätterte scheinbar etwas gelangweilt
darin herum, bis sie auf eine Seite stieß, die sie anscheinend näher
interessierte. "So etwas wollte ich immer schon haben!" sagte sie
aufgeregt zu ihrer Freundin Lena und deutete auf ein Bild in der
Zeitschrift. "Kein Problem, meine Beste!" antwortete ihr Lena umgehend und
sagte: "So etwas wollte ich dir auch schon vorschlagen. Das würde deinen
einmaligen Händen die Krone aufsetzen!" Zu Simon gewandt erklärte sie: "Du
glaubst gar nicht, wie ich deine Tante um ihre superlangen Nägel beneide.
Sie ist die einzige Frau die ich kenne, die solch lange Krallen hat, die
auch noch echt sind! Die meisten Kundinnen lassen sich von mir Kunstnägel
machen, meine eigenen sind übrigens auch nicht echt. Ist dir das
aufgefallen?" Sie fragte, weil sie bemerkte, wie intensiv Simon ihre Hände
fixiert hatte. "Ich habe mich nur gefragt", antwortete Simon, "warum ihre
Nägel so gerade und die von Tante Hanna nach unten gebogen sind." "Gut
beobachtet!" lobte Lena den etwas verlegenen Jungen. "Die leichte Biegung
kommt bei Naturnägeln ab einer gewissen Länge ganz von allein. Meine
Kunstnägel hingegen kann ich mir kerzengerade und in jeder Länge machen,
die ich möchte. Was gefällt dir denn besser?" fragte sie und legte lasziv
die Hände mit gespreizten Finger auf ihr übergeschlagenes Bein. "Ich - Ich
weiß nicht", stockte Simon verlegen, "ich glaube, ich finde beides sehr
schön!" "So, So - glaubst du das!" meldete sich seine Tante mit etwas
strengem Unterton wieder zu Wort. "Wenn du schon so ein Experte geworden
bist, was glaubst du denn, welche Farbe meinen Nägeln heute am besten
stehen würde?" Sie spreizte ihre gebogenen Klauen ebenfalls auf ihrem, in
der knallengen Lederhose gefangenen Oberschenkel und schaute Simon fragend
an. "Schwarz - so wie deine Stiefel Tantchen, glänzend Schwarz. Das würde
bestimmt toll aussehen!" schoss es aus Simon hervor, der gar nicht wusste,
welches Paar der ihm hier präsentierten Hände er zuerst anstarren sollte.
"Oh - schau an!" kam es nun von Lena gegenüber, "der junge Mann hat
wirklich Geschmack! Zu so einem netten und wohlerzogenen Neffen kann man
dir ja wirklich nur gratulieren, liebste Hanna!" "Da hasst du wohl recht",
pflichtete ihr Hanna bei, "er ist wirklich ein guter Junge und ich bin sehr
stolz auf ihn!" Mit einer Hand streichelte sie Simon durch das Haar und mit
der anderen über die Wange. "Dann lass uns jetzt anfangen!" unterbrach sie
Lena etwas unwirsch, "Es dauert schließlich ein bisschen, bis ich deine
Sonderwünsche erfüllt habe!" Und zu Simon sagte sie: "Du musst dich jetzt
eine Weile allein beschäftigen - geht das klar?" Simon nickte. "Ach ja -
wie wahr das doch gleich - schwarz metallic Hochglanzlack - wäre dass dem
jungen Herrn so Recht?" fragte sie etwas schnippisch und nahm Hanna bei
der Hand. "Ja Ja, dass wäre super!" antwortete Simon hastig und die beiden
Frauen gingen hinüber an einen Tisch mit allerlei Tinkturen und
Kosmetikutensilien, wobei Simon allerdings nicht erkennen konnte, was sie
dort taten und sprachen. So nahm er sich die Magazine eines nach dem
anderen vor und vertrieb sich die Zeit mit dem Betrachten von perfekt
gestylten Frauenhänden.
Nachdem Simon etwas über eine halbe Stunde gewartet, und sämtliche
Magazine und Prospekte durchgeblättert hatte, fing er an, unruhig auf
seinem Sessel hin und her zu rutschen, da die Bilder der schönen Hände
ihre Wirkung auf seine Libido nicht verfehlten. Er schielte hinüber in die
Richtung, in welche Frau de Winter mit seiner Tante vor einer Weile
verschwunden war, konnte aber niemanden entdecken. Doch nach kurzer Zeit
ging die Tür zum hinteren Bereich des Nagelstudios auf und Frau de Winter
stolzierte auf ihren schneeweißen Highheels in Richtung Ladentüre. Im
Vorbeigehen lächelte sie kurz zu Simon herüber und sagte: "So - es ist
gleich 14:00 Uhr - Schluss für heute!" Sie schloss die Ladentüre ab,
hängte das Geschlossen-Schild ins Fenster und ließ die Schalousien
herunter. Dadurch, dass nun kein Sonnenlicht mehr herein schien, wurde der
Raum in ein leicht schummriges Licht getaucht, das von den beleuchteten
Wandbildern wieder schien. "Deine Tante muss nebenan noch eine Weile
warten, bis ihr Nagellack trocken ist. Ist dir auch inzwischen nicht
langweilig geworden?" fragte Lena de Winter den noch immer auf dem
Zweiersofa ausharrenden Simon. "Ach nö", antwortete Simon knapp und sah,
wie die elegante Chefin des Nagelstudios ihren Blazer langsam auszog und
lässig über die Sessellehne warf. Unter ihrem hautengen und äußerst knapp
sitzenden, weißen Topp, zeichnete sich ein großes, wohlgeformtes Paar
Brüste ab, die auch ohne Büstenhalter auffallend fest wirkten. Mit
wippenden Hüften kam sie auf ihren hochhackigen Pumps auf Simon
zustolziert und setzte sich, mit übergeschlagenen Beinen, direkt neben ihn
auf das helle Ledersofa. Ihr teures Parfum stieg Simon aufdringlich in die
Nase, während sein Blick an ihren extravaganten Händen klebte. "Magst Du
schöne Hände?" fragte Lena den leicht abwesend wirkenden Jungen direkt und
spreizte ihre mit dicken, silbernen Ringen geschmückten Finger auf ihren
unter den weißen Netzstrümpfen braungebrannten Oberschenkeln. Simon nickte
leicht und hielt vor Aufregung die Luft an. War etwa auch dieses Superweib
scharf auf ihn, bzw. seinen jungen Schwanz und hatte seine Tante ihn
vorhin nicht erst gewarnt, sich hinter ihrem Rücken mit anderen Frauen
abzugeben? Er begann augenblicklich zu schwitzen, doch seine Augen konnten
den Blick von Frau de Winters wundervollen Händen, die jetzt wie beiläufig
mit den Nagelspitzen über den Stoff der engmaschigen, halterlosen
Netzstrümpfe strich, nicht abwenden. "Deine Tante hat auch sehr schöne
Hände - nicht wahr?" fragte sie weiter und Simon krächzte ein kaum
verständliches: "Ja! Das hat sie wirklich!", da sich seine Kehle
urplötzlich staubtrocken anfühlte. "Sie hat so wundervoll lange Nägel",
schwärmte Lena weiter, "aber, sie hat gesagt, ich darf dir nicht verraten,
wie ich sie heute noch weiter Verschönert habe. Ich glaube, dass soll eine
Überraschung werden!" Simons Wangen röteten sich sichtbar. Ahnte Frau de
Winter etwa, dass ihn mit seiner Patentante mehr verband, als ein normales
Tante-Neffe-Verhältnis? Oder hatte Hanna etwa mit ihr über ihn gesprochen
und dabei Sachen verraten, über die besser niemand etwas wissen sollte? Zu
allem Überfluss drückte sein inzwischen nahezu vollständig erigierter Penis
mit aller Macht gegen den Stoff seiner engen Jeans und zeichnete sich
deutlich sichtbar für Frau de Winter darunter ab. Simon sah, wie ihr Blick
erwartungsvoll an der dicken Ausbeulung seiner Hose klebte und versuchte,
mehr ungeschickt als wirkungsvoll, die wachsende Erektion unter seinen
Händen zu verbergen. "Was willst du denn da vor mir verstecken?" fragte
Lena süffisant und legte ihre rechte Hand sanft auf die von Simon.
"Gefallen dir meine langen Nägel?" fragte sie und ohne eine Antwort des
Jungen abzuwarten, bohrte sie weiter: "Möchtest du sie mal in den Mund
nehmen?" Sie sagte das in einem Ton, der es Simon abwechselnd heiß und
kalt den Rücken herab laufen lies. Simon nickte nur und öffnete seinen
Mund ein bisschen. "Nein Nein - nicht so schnell!" sagte Lena abweisend
und entzog ihm ihre Hand wieder. "Zuerst zeigst du mir, was du da Schönes
in der Hose hasst!" Nun war es also heraus - Simon glaubte zu träumen -
Was war nur los? - Innerhalb von nicht einmal 24 Stunden war nun schon die
Zweite Traumfrau scharf auf seinen harten Schwanz und er wusste nicht, wie
er sich verhalten sollte. "Was ist los mit dir?" fragte Frau de Winter nun
etwas enttäuscht, "ich kenne zig Männer, die sich so etwas nicht zweimal
von mir sagen ließen! Warum zierst du dich so?" "Meine -, Meine Tante !"
stotterte Simon unbeholfen. "Was ist denn mit deiner Tante?" fragte Frau
de Winter nach. "Sie, sie hat gesagt, ich darf nicht "; weiter kam er
nicht, den Lena griff beherzt mit beiden Händen in seinen Hosenbund und
riss die Knöpfe der hautengen Jeanshose förmlich auf. Sofort sprang Simons
steifes Glied wie von einer Feder gehalten nach oben und reckte sich dick
adrig empor. "Was darfst du nicht? Anderen Frauen deinen wundervollen
Schwanz zeigen?" fragte Lena laut und konnte sich an dem vor ihr stramm
stehenden Riemen nicht satt sehen. Simon nickte nur und sah, wie Frau de
Winter sich lüstern mit ihrer langen Zunge über die Innenseite ihrer
rechten Hand leckte, und diese dann, wie einen Schraubstock, um seinen
pochenden Hammer legte. "Hat deine Tante denn deinen Schwanz schon mal so
groß gesehen?" fragte sie mit einem tiefen Vibrieren in der Stimme und als
Simon abermals nickte seufzte sie leicht auf und begann langsam, den dicken
Stamm auf und ab zu massieren, so dass auch Simon zu stöhnen begann. "Hat
sie ihn dir auch schon mal so schön gewichst, wie ich es jetzt tue?" ließ
sie nicht locker und heftig keuchend stieß Simon hervor: "Ja! Ja! Gerade
vorhin, nach dem Frühstück, habe ich sie in ihren göttlichen Mund gefickt
und sie hat meinen ganzen Samen geschluckt!!!"
"Oh mein Gott!!! Diese schamlose Hure treibt es mit ihrem eigenen Neffen!"
entfuhr es Lena laut und während sie langsam vom Sofa aufstand und sich den
knappen Rock über die wohlgeformten Hüften streifte, forderte sie: "Erzähl
mir alles! Was hat sie mit dir gemacht?" Da sie Simon bei ihrem kleinen
Strip den Rücken zugewandt hatte, konnte dieser nur ihren prachtvollen
Hintern betrachten, der von einem großen, dunkelblauen Tribaltattoo
gekrönt wurde. Langsam drehte sie sich wieder zu dem wie erstarrt
dasitzenden Jungen hinter sich um und während sie ein Paar
überdurchschnittlich große, aber durchaus fest wirkende Titten aus der
Verhüllung ihres superknappen Oberteiles schälte, säuselte sie: "Na sag
schon - Was hat deine liebe Tante alles mit dir angestellt?" Während Simon
ihren perfekt proportionierten Körper bewunderte, kniete Lena vor ihm
nieder und er bemerkte, das ihre dunkel Rosahnen Brustwarzen, die sich
steil von den schneeweißen Brüsten abhoben, von jeweils 2 goldenen, ca. 2
cm großen Piercingringen durchstochen waren. So etwas hatte Simon in
seinem jungen Leben noch nie gesehen und als Lena de Winter eben diese
Ringe zwischen ihren rot lackierten Nägeln der linken Hand zu zwirbeln
begann und mit der anderen wieder gefühlvoll seinen Stamm massierte,
erzählte er ihr, wie unter Hypnose stehend, die ganze Geschichte seiner
gestrigen Entjungferung, bis zu dem Moment, wo er seine Tante zwischen die
dicken Euter ficken musste und ihr seinen heißen Saft direkt in den danach
lechzenden Schlund spritzen durfte. Die erfahrene Frau lauschte seinen
sprudelnden Worten mit wachsender Erregung und je mehr Simon bei seinen
Beschreibungen ins Detail ging, umso intensiver stimulierte sie,
unbewusst, seine und ihre Geschlechtsteile mit ihren geschmeidigen Händen.
Simon spürte, wie ihm der Saft aus den prallen Hoden hinauf in den
Samenleiter stieg und auch Lena blieb die nahende Ejakulation des Jungen
nicht verborgen. "Komm mein Junge!" forderte sie stöhnend, "Spritz mir
deine heiße Sahne ins Gesicht, genau so, wie du es bei deiner Tante getan
hasst!!!" Simon stöhnte laut auf und gerade, als er dem unaufhörlich
wachsenden Druck in seinem heftig bearbeiteten Rohr nachgeben wollte, um
der vor ihm schamlos masturbierenden Blondine seinen Samen
entgegenzuschleudern, durchdrang eine laute, keinen Widerspruch duldende
Frauenstimme das Keuchen und Stöhnen mit den Worten: "UNTERSTEH DICH!!! DU
HASST DEINEN SAFT ERST DANN ZU VERSPRITZEN, WENN ICH ES DIR ERLAUBE - ODER
HASST DU DAS SCHON VERGESSEN?"
Simon erschrak fürchterlich und war wie vom Donner gerührt. In der Tür zum
Nebenraum stand, mit in die ausladenden Hüften gestemmten Händen, seine
Tante Hanna. Sie musste die Situation schon eine ganze Weile beobachtet
haben, denn ihr Outfit war nun nicht mehr dasselbe wie vorhin, als sie mit
Simon das Studio betreten hatte. Ihren engen Lederanzug hatte sie abgelegt
und trug nur noch einen schwarz glänzenden Lackbody, welcher im Oberteil
zwei ca. 15 cm messende, kreisrunde und mit silbernen Nieten besetzte
Ausschnitte hatte, durch die ihre mächtigen Brüste herausragten. Ein
dritter Ausschnitt war unschwer zwischen Hannas strammen Schenkeln
erkennbar, denn da sie leicht breitbeinig stand, waren in ihrem Schritt
die wulstigen Schamlippen ihrer glatt rasierten Möse deutlich sichtbar.
Ihre langen, für ihr Alter außergewöhnlich jugendlich wirkenden Beine
steckten in den extrem hochhackigen Lackstiefeln, in denen sie schon
gekommen war und auf diesen Schritt Hanna nun elegant, wie ein unnahbarer
Filmstar, auf Simon und Lena de Winter zu. Ihre Stiefel klackten bei jedem
Schritt wie Peitschenhiebe auf dem gefliesten Fußboden und Simon wäre vor
Scham am liebsten im Erdboden versunken. Sein, bis eben noch stocksteif
stehendes Glied lag nun halbschlapp in der erregt zitternden Hand von
Lena, die sich gedankenverloren noch immer mit der anderen Hand die
absaimende Punze rieb und mittlerweile eine deutliche Lache an duftendem
Mösensaft auf dem Fußboden geseicht hatte. Hanna stand nun mit
verschränkten Armen direkt hinter ihr und mit zorniger Stimme befahl sie:
"Nimm gefälligst deine verhurten Finger von meinem Jungen!" Dabei zog sie
Lena an ihren langen Haaren nach oben und bemerkte dabei die Pfütze von
Fotzenschleim zwischen ihren Füßen. "Jetzt sieh dir das an!" höhnte Hanna
vorwurfsvoll, "das geile Miststück hat ihre stinkende Soße einfach auf den
Boden laufen lassen!! Die Geschichte hat dir wohl gefallen - was?" Aufgrund
ihrer Highheels war sie mindestens 10 cm größer als Lena, welche unsicher
und ehrfürchtig zugleich zu ihr aufsah. Lena nickte zustimmend und schlug
schuldbewusst die Augen nieder. "Dann wollen wir doch mal sehen, ob dein
Mösensaft genau so gut schmeckt, wie er duftet!" fuhr Hanna nun etwas
milder fort und wies Lena an, sich wieder hinzuknien. "Sammle alles mit
deinen Händen auf und zeig mir, wie geil dich mein Neffe gemacht hat!"
befahl sie und drückte Lena wieder nach unten. Simon setzte sich etwas aus
seiner fast liegenden Position auf und sah, wie die Chefin des Nagelstudios
unterwürfig vor ihm, bzw. seiner Tante kniete und versuchte, den Sud ihres
Höhepunktes mit den Händen aufzuwischen. Es dauerte eine Weile, doch dann
hatte sie fast alles in ihren ausnehmend schönen Händen gesammelt und
hielt sie Hanna, wie zu einer Opferschale geformt, entgegen. Diese hatte
Lena bei ihrer Saft-Sammelei genauestens beobachtet und ergriff nun deren
Hände mit den ihren. Erst jetzt viel Simons Blick auf die extravaganten
Hände seiner Patentante und er sah, in welcher Form Lena die ultralangen,
gebogenen Fingernägel bearbeitet hatte. Natürlich waren sie fein
säuberlich in hochglänzendem schwarzen Metallic lackiert, so wie es Simon
sich vorhin gewünscht hatte. Dadurch wirkten sie im Einklang mit dem
schwarzen Lackbody, den Schaftstiefeln, sowie dem schwarzen Lippenstift
und Lidschatten wie das i-Tüpfelchen auf Hannas herrischer, fast teuflisch
wirkenden, aber extrem lustvollen Erscheinung. Allein das Betrachten ihrer
anbetungswürdigen Hände reichte aus, um Simons Glied wieder erhärten zu
lassen, doch als er etwas genauer hinsah erkannte er eine Extravaganz, die
er vorher noch bei keiner anderen Frau gesehen hatte: Die mindestens 6 cm
langen Nägel ihrer Ring- und Mittelfinger hatten kurz vor der Spitze ein
kleines, vielleicht 2 mm messendes Loch, durch das ein etwa 5 mm großer,
goldener Ring gezogen war. An eben diesem Ring war ein dünnes, aber
stabiles Goldkettchen befestigt, welches bis zu einem breiten Fingerring
reichte und auch daran befestigt war. Auch die restlichen Nägel waren
nicht einfach nur lackiert, sondern trugen an deren Spitzen ebenfalls
kleine Ringe, die aber nicht mit Kettchen behangen, sonder stattdessen mit
einer Perle oder einem Diamanten verziert waren. Diese Verzierungen ihrer
ohnehin schon extraordinären Fingernägel trug Hanna an beiden Händen und
als sie die Nägel einer Hand in den ihr dargebotenen Mösensaft tauchte und
sie langsam, Schleim beschmiert wieder herauszog, hätte Simon vor Erregung
sterben können. Sie führte sich die Finger der rechten Hand an die
tiefschwarz geschminkten Lippen und steckte jeden Nagel einzeln in den
halb geöffneten Mund, um ihn sorgfältig abzulutschen. "Mmmmmmhhh!! Die Sau
schmeckt besser als ich dachte!", murmelte Hanna mit geschlossenen Augen
und nahm mit den Nägeln der anderen Hand den Rest des ihr dargebotenen
Sekretes auf. "Probier auch mal!" befahl sie Simon und mit einem bohrenden
Blick hielt sie ihm die feucht glänzenden Finger vor das Gesicht. Simon
öffnete gehorsam seinen Mund und Hanna steckte ihrem Neffen jeden Nagel
einzeln hinein, ließ ihn ausgiebig mit seiner Zunge die langen glatten
Krallen erkunden und die würzige Mösensoße Lena de Winters in sich
aufnehmen. "Sind sie jetzt nicht einmalig schön?" fragte Hanna Lena und
Simon zugleich und anstatt zu antworten ließ sie auch die vor ihr kniende
Lena ihre extrem langen Fingernägel von deren Lippen und Zunge erkunden.
"Das macht ihr sehr gut!" lobte Hanna ihre zwei Fingerlutscher und das
Gefühl, die absolute Kontrolle über die mehr als attraktive Geschäftsfrau
und den, mit einer Riesenerektion, vor ihr sitzenden Jungen zu haben,
ließen auch ihre Lustsäfte zunehmend fließen. Sie brauchte jetzt dringend
einen Zunge oder einen harten Schwanz, der ihr die ersehnte Erleichterung
verschafften konnte, aber Simon sollte für seinen "Treuebruch" noch ein
wenig leiden. Außerdem war ihr klar, dass der Junge dermaßen erregt war,
dass er höchstwahrscheinlich sofort abspritzen würde, wenn sie sich sein
pochendes Rohr jetzt einverleiben täte. Also beschloss sie, sich zuerst
einmal der immer noch genussvoll an ihren Nägeln lutschenden Lena
zuzuwenden. "Du bleibst hier sitzen und rührst dich nicht vom Fleck!" wies
sie Simon herrisch an, "Zieh dich aus, sieh uns zu und wichs dir dein
Fickrohr! Aber untersteh dich zu spritzen, bevor ich es dir erlaube!!!"
Simon beeilte sich mit dem Ausziehen, denn er wollte seiner Patentante auf
keinen Fall einen weiteren Grund geben, böse auf ihn zu sein. Hanna deutete
der knienden Lena inzwischen mittels zweier unter deren Kinn gedrückter
Fingernägel, sich zu erheben, was diese auch ohne zu zögern tat. "Bevor
ich dich an den Saftbolzen meines Patenkindes lasse, wirst du es erstmal
mir besorgen!" zischte sie Lena zu, deren Augen dabei erstrahlten und sie
sich ein erwartungsvolles Lächeln nicht verkneifen konnte. "Lass mich
deine Sklavin sein! Ich mache alles was du willst!" flehte Lena de Winter
und küsste abermals unterwürfig Hannas anbetungswürdige Hände. Diese ließ
die Ehrerbietung zufrieden über sich ergehen und nahm anschließend Lenas
Gesicht zwischen ihre langen Finger. "Ich bin sehr zufrieden mit deiner
Arbeit", sagte sie sanft und flüsterte weiter, "gib mir deine Zunge!" Wie
eine nach Beute suchende Natter schoss Hannas Zunge zwischen ihren
glänzend schwarzen Lippen hervor und die vor Erregung zitternde Lena tat
es ihr gleich, bis beider Leckmuskeln sich außerhalb ihrer Münder trafen
und lustvoll umschlangen. Simon verfolgte das alles mit staunenden Augen
und hätte sich lieber den rechten Arm abhacken lassen, als auch nur eine
Sekunde dieses, sich anbahnenden Lesbenaktes, zu verpassen. Noch nie hatte
er gesehen, wie zwei Frauen zärtlich miteinander waren und er hätte sich
auch nicht erträumen lassen, dass es die beiden attraktivsten Frauen, die
er kannte, es hier vor seinen Augen tun würden. Immer noch küssten sie
einander feucht und intensiv, wobei ihre Hände schon eine Weile auf
Entdeckungsreise gegangen waren, um den Lust strotzenden Körper der
jeweils anderen mit den lang Nageligen Fingern zu erkunden. Dies taten sie
völlig ungeniert in unmittelbarer Nähe des sich nun vorsichtig selbst
berührenden Jungen, und die Gewissheit, dass er ihnen zusah und sich an
ihren Traumkörpern ergötzte, schien sie noch zusätzlich zu erregen. Als
sich ihre Zungen voneinander lösten, ging Hanna einen Schritt zurück und
sah sich die ausnehmend attraktive 32jährige vor ihr mit musterndem Blick
von oben bis unten genauestens an. "Zieh dich auch aus!" kommandierte sie
mit ruhiger aber ernster Stimme, "Ich möchte, dass ihr beide nackt für
mich seit!" Sie setzte sich mit weit gespreizten Beinen ordinär in den
Ledersessel, direkt gegenüber von Simon und sah Lena de Winter
interessiert zu, wie diese sich ihres hautengen Tops und des Tangaslips
entledigte. Splitternackt, nur noch die hochhackigen, weißen Pumps an den
schlanken Füßen und in halterlosen weißen Nylons, stand sie nun vor dem
sich langsam wichsenden Simon, der sie am liebsten gepackt und ihren Schoß
auf sein Rohr gestülpt hätte, doch Lena hatte indes nur noch Augen für
dessen Tante, deren schwarz lackierten Fingernägel die dicken, rosa
glänzenden Schamlippen teilten und die geschwollenen, dunkelbraunen
Brustwarzen traktierten. "Komm endlich her und leck mich!" forderte Hanna
die etwa 2 Meter entfernt stehende Lena mit kehliger Stimme auf und diese
ging mit kleinen Schritte und klackenden Absätzen provozierend langsam um
den Glastisch herum, um schließlich, wie vor einem Altar, vor der, sich
schamlos präsentierenden, reifen Lacklady auf die Knie zu fallen. Da seine
Tante etwas schräg auf dem ihm gegenüber stehende Sessel saß, konnte Simon
genau erkennen, wie sich Lenas bildhübsches Gesicht, mit leicht geöffnetem
Mund, der bereits deutlich feucht glänzenden Mösenöffnung näherte und wie
deren dicke Lustfalten von den krallenartigen Nägeln auseinander gehalten
wurden. Lenas Finger strichen zärtlich über die Innenseiten von Hannas
Oberschenkel, bis hin zu den langen Lackstiefeln und drückten die langen
Beine ihrer Stammkundin noch ein Stück weiter nach hinten, so dass deren
schimmernde Auster jetzt direkt vor ihren knallrot geschminkten Lippen
prangte. "Oh Hanna! Du bist eine Göttin!" betete Lena fast, "Davon habe
ich schon lange geträumt!" Kaum hatte sie das ausgesprochen, schmiegten
sich ihre vollen Lippen liebevoll auf die nässende, vollreife Fotze vor
ihr und ihre lange, wendige Zunge durchpflügte den tiefen Spalt vom
schmalen Damm bis zum knopfgroßen Kitzler und wieder zurück. Hanna stöhnte
laut und lange auf, als die Zunge der attraktiven Geschäftsfrau ihr
hungriges Geschlecht erforschte und genau die Stellen besonders intensiv
bearbeitete, welche nur eine andere Frau so zielsicher entdecken konnte.
"Oh mein Gott - das machst du aber nicht zum ersten Mal!!!" entfuhr es
Hanna, die ihren Unterleib dem sinnlichen Mund von Lena de Winter
entgegenpresste und unaufhaltsam auf einen eruptionsartigen Orgasmus
zusteuerte. Lena erhob ihr, bereits vom Mösensaft gezeichnetes Gesicht
kurz aus dem feuchten Schlund und antwortete lächelnd: "Nein, da hasst du
recht - Liebste! Aber noch nie habe ich einen schöneren Kelch der Lust
genießen dürfen!" Hanna nahm Lenas Kopf wieder zwischen ihre
hocherotischen Hände und zog sie so zu sich hoch. Lüstern trafen sich die
Zungen der beiden erfahrenen Frauen zum wilden Tanz und in stetig
zunehmender Erregung leckte Hanna ihren eigenen Fotzenschleim aus Lenas
besudeltem Gesicht. "Trink mich jetzt aus - Miststück! Ich will in dein
hübsches Gesicht kommen!!!" befahl sie schließlich zittrig, als sie dem
Grad ihrer Erregung kaum noch standhalten konnte und drückte Lena wieder
zurück, zwischen ihre weit gespreizten Beine. Auch Lena sehnte Hannas
Orgasmus bereits herbei, erhoffte sie sich doch, auch von ihr, auf die
selbe Art, oder gar von dem, wie hypnotisiert auf die Szenerie vor ihm
stierenden Simon, beglückt zu werden. Kaum hatte ihre schnelle Zunge die
glänzende Lustperle wieder erreicht, vergrub Hanna ihre Finger in Lenas
hellblonden Haaren und drückte ihr Gesicht mit aller Kraft in ihre
zuckende, überquellende Fotze. Ihr Unterkörper bäumte sich krampfhaft auf
und fickte der, wie eine Schlange in sie eindringenden Zunge förmlich
entgegen. Mit letzter Kraft schrie sie heißer: "Ohhhhhhhh - Jaaaaaaa! Du
Hure machst mich fertig!!! Ich kommeeeeeee!!!!" Wild keuchend und
schnaubend sackte sie in dem Ledersessel zusammen, Lenas Kopf noch immer
fest umklammernd und nach Luft ringend.
Auch für Lena war Hannas Höhepunkt eines der intensivsten Erlebnisse ihres
bisherigen Sexlebens gewesen. Zwar hatte sie es schon einige Male mit
Frauen getrieben und war beileibe keine Anfängerin auf diesem Gebiet.
Dennoch hatte sie solch einen überschäumenden Ausbruch an Wollust und
körperlicher Gier noch nie erlebt und war der um 5 Jahre älteren Frau,
deren Körpersäfte sie jetzt gierig in sich aufnahm, bereits unwiderruflich
verfallen. "Komm her, du geiles Biest!" hörte sie Hanna röcheln, die nur
langsam wieder zurück in die Realität fand und mit zittrigen Fingern Lena
bei den Händen packte, um sich langsam aufzurichten. Erschöpft aber
glücklich lächelnd wischte sie der immer noch vor ihr knienden Frau mit
ihren überlangen Fingernägeln den Mösenbrei aus dem Gesicht und lies sich
anschließend jeden Finger von ihr gründlich abschlecken. "Ich liebe Dich!"
haucht Lena fast demütig als die beiden reifen Damen einander tief in die
Augen blickten und anstatt zu antworten küsste Hanna sie mit all ihrer
Leidenschaft und Hingabe, bis ihr wieder in den Sinn kam, dass sich ja
nicht weit entfernt noch jemand befand, dessen Hörigkeit ihr Gewiss war.
"Wollen wir uns jetzt seine Sahne hohlen?" gurrte Hanna lasziv und deutete
mit dem Zeigefinger auf den apathisch, wie in Zeitlupe masturbierenden
Simon. "Ja!", antwortete Lena und ihre Augen strahlten erwartungsvoll,
"Darf ich ihn herholen?" "Mach den Glastisch frei - dann bring ihn mir
her! Wir werden uns beide gleichzeitig an im laben!" antwortete Hanna und
erhob sich aus dem mit ihrem Fotzenschleim durchtränkten Sessel. Lena
räumte hastig sämtliche Magazine vom Tisch und ging dann zu Simon, der
noch immer, schwitzend vor Geilheit, an sich herumspielte. "Nun bist du an
der Reihe!" raunte sie ihm zu und griff nach seiner rechten Hand, die er
fest um seinen stocksteifen Penis geschlossen hatte. Dabei kratzte sie mit
einem Fingernagel, wie zufällig, über die dunkelblaue Eichel und sogleich
trat ein dicker Tropfen Vorschmiere aus der Öffnung, den sie geschickt mit
dem selben Nagel auffing und sich genießerisch in den Mund schob. "Hab ich
dir erlaubt von meinem Jungen zu naschen?" ermahnte Hanna von der anderen
Seite des Tisches mit ernstem Tonfall. "Bring ihn endlich her, dann wirst
du schon deinen Teil von ihm abbekommen - da ist genug Saft für uns beide
in seinen dicken Eiern!" Hanna stand mit leicht gespreizten Beinen vor dem
großen Glastisch und ihre einmaligen Hände massierten bereits wieder die
provozierend aus ihrem Lackbody herausstehenden Riesenbrüste. Lena führte
den Jungen an der Hand um den Tisch herum und zu dritt standen sie nun,
dicht an dicht, ohne, dass ihre Körper einander berührten. Simon war der
kleinste, da er barfuss war, ein paar Zentimeter größer als er war Lena
auf ihren weißen Pumps und aufgrund ihrer extraordinären Stiefelabsätze
überragte Hanna sie beide. "Hat es dir gefallen dabei zuzusehen, wie Frau
de Winter mich ausgeleckt hat?" fragte Hanna ihren Neffen und dieser
stammelte ein undeutliches: "Ja, Tante. Das war fantastisch!" "Und hasst
du dir deinen dicken Schwanz auch brav dabei gewichst, wie ich es dir
befohlen habe?" bohrte Hanna weiter. "Natürlich Tante, wie du gesagt
hasst" antwortete Simon gehorsam und starrte unablässig auf die so
kunstvoll manikürten, superlangen Fingernägel, mit denen Hanna nun sanft
über die vollen Brüste und gepiercten Brustwarzen Lenas kratzte. Diese
verdrehte sofort lustvoll die Augen und ihre, im Vergleich mit Hannas um
fast die Hälfte kleineren Zitzen, versteiften sich zu weit hervortretenden
Lustknospen. "Gefällt dir so etwas, mein Junge?" fragte Hanna ungeniert,
als sie die Nippelringe zwischen ihren langen Nägeln spielerisch
einklemmte, so dass Lena vor Erregung laut aufstöhnen musste. "Oh ja, das
sieht supergeil aus!" schoss es aus Simon heraus. "Möchtest du etwa, dass
ich mir auch so etwas machen lasse?" "Das würde an deinen Supertitten
bestimmt toll aussehen!" bejahte Simon, griff mit der rechten Hand nach
Hannas Brüsten und mit der linken nach denen Lenas. Diese öffnete die
Augen wieder und stöhnte an Hanna gewand: "Der Kleine wird ja endlich
mutig. Darf ich ihn mir jetzt nehmen?" "Er hat uns noch gar nicht erzählt,
wie ihm meine teuer geschmückten Krallen gefallen!" erwiderte Hanna und
kraulte mit ihren fast Furcht erregenden Sexwerkzeugen langsam über Simons
Gesicht. Nun schloss dieser genussvoll die Augen und als Hanna mit ihren
Nägeln seine Lippen berührte, öffnete er diese und leckte mit seiner Zunge
zärtlich über die gebogenen, pechschwarzen Fingernägel seiner Patentante.
"Oh, sieh doch", staunte Lena ungeduldig, "er frisst dir ja förmlich aus
der Hand!" "Ja - da hast du recht, Liebste," gurrte Hanna mit sonorer
Stimme, "und am liebsten habe ich, er spritzt mir dabei noch in den
Mund!!!" Mit diesen Worten sank sie vor dem wie festgewurzelt dastehenden
Simon auf die Knie, schnappte sich mir der rechten Hand sein heftig
zuckendes Glied und richtete die Purpur glänzende Eichel auf ihre schwarz
geschminkten Lippen, die sie sogleich weit öffnete. Unendlich tief blickte
sie ihrem Neffen in die verschleierten Augen und forderte: "Zeig ihr jetzt,
wie sehr du mich liebst! Schenke mir deine Liebesmilch!!" Mehr brauchte
Hanna nicht zu tun. Allein der Anblick der aufdringlich geschminkten,
reifen Frau, die mit ihren pervers langen Klauen seinen dick adrigen
Schwanz umklammerte und mit herausgestreckter Zunge nach seiner Ficksahne
lechzte, hätte gereicht, ihn spritzen zu lassen. Ihre eindringlich
gesprochenen Worte ließen Simon jedoch förmlich explodieren und so traf
der erste dicke Schwall, heißen klebrigen Spermas, ohne das sein Penis
weiteren Reizungen ausgesetzt war, wie aus einem berstenden Geysir
emporgeschossen, auf ihre ihm lüstern entgegen gestreckte Zunge. Als sie
diese, weißlich glänzend, genussvoll wieder in ihren sinnlichen Mund
zurück gleiten lies, spuckte der mächtige Riemen zwischen ihren betörenden
Fingern schon die 2. und 3. Salve in ihr lasziv lächelndes Gesicht, so dass
der dampfende Saft auf die bebenden, vollen Lippen klatschte und zusammen
mit dem schwarz glänzenden Lippenstift einen unbeschreiblichen Anblick
bot. Die restlichen Schübe aus Simons prall gefüllten Hoden, die Lena de
Winter mittlerweile mit einer Hand umschmeichelte, empfing Hanna direkt in
ihrem weit geöffneten Mund, in dem sie ihre wulstigen Lippen fest um die
siffende Eichel schloss und mit der Zungenspitze heftig an deren
Unterseite züngelte. Lena war inzwischen auch auf die Knie gegangen und
beobachtete das Szenario mit wachsender Erregung. Deutlich konnte sie
sehen, wie sich der atemberaubende Schwanz des Jungen in Mund und Gesicht
der um so viele Jahre älteren Frau ergoss und wie diese es genoss, auf
diese einmalige Art, ihrer ungebrochenen Attraktivität versichert zu
werden. Lena roch den herben Duft des frischen Spermas und tief in ihr
wuchs der stille Wunsch, ebenfalls davon zu kosten, zu einem wahren
Heißhunger auf Simons jungen Hodennektar heran. Ihre schlanken Hände
massierten den leer gepumpten Sack immer intensiver, als würde sie
versuchen, ihm auch die letzten Reserven zu entlocken, doch der zuckende
harte Phallus steckte noch immer zwischen Hannas betörenden Lippen, welche
ihm durch melkende Bewegungen ihrer extraordinären Finger bereits die
letzten Tropfen entlockte. Aus den Augenwinkeln konnte Hanna sehen, wie
Lena die Entsaftung Simons schmachtend beobachtete und mit ihrer
geschickten Zunge lechzend über ihre glutrot geschminkten Lippen fuhr. Ihr
Mund war randvoll mit dem köstlichen Samen ihres Neffen, dessen Geschmack
ihre eigenen Säfte bereits wieder fließen ließ. Doch sie konnte sich
gerade noch beherrschen und unterdrückte das Verlangen, den schleimigen
Nektar hinunterzuschlucken. Stattdessen lies sie Simons glänzende Eichel
aus ihrem Mund gleiten und wand sich der mit bebenden Lippen neben ihr
hockenden attraktiven 30erigen zu. Instinktiv öffnete Lena de Winter die
Lippen und näherte sich vorsichtig dem besudelten Gesicht von Simons
Tante. Diese hatte ihre dekadenten Hände von dem ausgewrungenen Glied
gelöst und ergriff nun Lenas Kopf zwischen ihren langen Klauen. Wie eine
Vampirin auf Beutejagd beugte sie sich über die flehend blickende
Blondine, die ihren betörenden Mund weit geöffnet hatte. Doch anstatt ihr
den Lebenssaft auszusaugen, erhörte Hanna Lenas stummes Betteln und teilte
den Samen ihres Patenkindes mit ihr. Langsam öffnete auch sie ihren Sperma
gefüllten Mund und zwischen ihren wulstigen, schwarz glänzenden Lippen
rann die weiße Soße heraus, direkt in Lenas begierig wartenden Schlund.
Laut stöhnend schlang diese den köstlichen Hodensud hinunter, bis sich die
Zungen der beiden Frauen leckend und lutschend vereinten.
All dies geschah direkt vor den staunenden Augen Simons, dessen
zwischenzeitlich halbsteif herunterhängender Lustkolben, beim Betrachten
der sich gegenseitig mit seinem frischen Samen fütternden Luxusfrauen,
sofort wieder zu voller Pracht und Größe anschwoll. Als sich die 2
Leckmäuler nach minutenlangem Zungenspiel von einander lösten, erblickten
sie den stolzen Phallus und Hanna sagte zufrieden: "Siehst du Lena, das
ist das Schöne an den jungen Spritzern - unser Simon braucht keine lange
Verschnaufpause." " und sein Saft schmeckt einfach einmalig!" ergänzte
Lena de Winter, während sie Simon mit ihren lang Nageligen Fingern
zärtlich über die Oberschenkel streichelte. "Na los, lutsch ihm sein
hartes Rohr! Ich sehe doch, das du es kaum noch abwarten kannst!" zeigte
sich Hanna gnädig und drehte Simons Hüften so, dass sein steifer Pin
direkt auf Lenas verträumt blickendes Gesicht zeigte. Diese lies sich das
nicht zweimal sagen und ergriff mit spitzen Fingern das vor ihrem Mund
prangende Rohr und öffnete genussvoll die besudelten Lippen. Während ihre
zarten Hände sanft über die glatte Penishaut streiften, ließ Lena ihre
spitze Zunge sabbernd um die pralle Eichel und die empfindliche Unterseite
von Simons Lanze gleiten. Hanna hatte sich inzwischen erhoben und
beobachtete die Liebkosungen ihrer Nebenbuhlerin am erigierten Glied ihres
Patenkindes im Wechselbad von leichter Eifersucht und wieder wachsender
Erregung. "Macht sie es gut?" fragte Hanna den leise stöhnenden Simon, der
sie zärtlich an sich drückte und erwiderte: "Ja, Tante, sie macht es toll!"
Flüsternd fügte er hinzu: " aber besser als du ist keine!" Glücklich küsste
sie den Jungen voller Hingabe und dieser konnte auf ihrer Zunge noch das
Aroma seines eigenen Spermas schmecken. Lena lutschte den knochenharten
Riemen unterdessen immer intensiver und war von dessen Größe und
Standhaftigkeit völlig fasziniert. "Oh Junge!" entfuhr es ihr, als sie den
nassen Liebesknochen kurz aus ihrem Mund gleiten lies, "du bist fast noch
ein Kind - aber du hast den Schwanz eines Gottes!!" Mampfend verschlang
sie das triefende Rohr erneut, während sie ihre gepflegten Hände über ihre
vollen Brüste, bis runter an ihre beringte Muschel gleiten lies. Hanna
hatte ihre rechte Hand fest um Simons leer gepumpte Hoden geschlossen und
mit der linken war auch sie bereits wieder dabei, sich durch die juckende
Punze zu kratzen. Ihr Neffe massierte indes die schweren Titten seiner
Patentante und suchte mit seinen durstenden Lippen immer wieder ihre
sensiblen Zitzen, an denen er sich niemals satt saugen konnte. So standen
alle 3 eng umschlungen vor dem großen Glastisch und umwarben einander mit
Händen und Mündern, bis es schließlich wieder Hanna war, die das Heft des
Handelns in die gepflegten Hände nahm.
"Fick mich jetzt mit deinem göttlichen Hammer!" befahl sie energisch und
legte sich rücklings auf die gläserne Tischplatte. Die Beine hatte sie
weit gespreizt und zwischen ihren schwarz glänzenden Supernägeln öffnete
sich ihre rötliche reife Möse wie ein tiefer nasser Schlund der Erfüllung.
Simon konnte gegen das Verlangen, seinen steifen Schwanz in dieses
verheißungsvolle Loch zu stecken, nicht ankämpfen, auch wenn die Gefühle,
die Frau de Winter ihm mit ihrem Lippen und ihrer geschickten Zunge an
seinem Geschlecht bereitete, einen wohligen Schauer nach dem anderen durch
den Körper laufen lies. So entzog er sich ihren Liebkosungen und wendete
sich seiner sehnsüchtig nach ihm verlangenden Tante zu. Diese ergriff
seinen pendelnden Stab und lies ihn zwei- dreimal sanft in ihre hohl
geformte Hand ficken, während sie mit der anderen nach Simons Hoden
tastete und diese mit den langen Nägeln zärtlich kraulte. Zwischen
Zeigefinger und Daumen eingeklemmt, führte Hanna die speichelnasse Eichel
Simons direkt vor ihre aufnahmebereite Spalte und ließ sie langsam an den
feuchten Schamlippen auf und nieder gleiten. Unter Lenas neidvollen
Blicken ließ sie die glatte Nille ein paar Mal über ihren geschwollenen
Kitzler fahren, bis sie schließlich stöhnend forderte: "Stoß zu - mein
Junge! Zeig der Tante, was du gelernt hast!" Simon gehorchte, was ihm auch
nicht wirklich schwer viel. Mit einem kräftigen Stoß drang er in voller
Länge in das brodelnde Mösenloch ein und verharrte tief drinnen einen
kurzen Moment, der Hanna aber wie eine kleine Ewigkeit erschien. Mit den
spitzen Absätzen ihrer extravaganten Lackstiefel stieß sie den Jungen
wieder ein Stück aus sich heraus, nur, um dessen heiß geliebten Schweif
sogleich wieder ganz in sich einfahren zu lassen. Auf diese Weise fickten
Hanna und Simon minutenlang mit steigender Intensität, begleitet nur durch
ihr beiderseitiges Stöhnen und Keuchen, sowie Hannas fortdauernde
Anfeuerungen und wollüstige Liebesbekundungen: "Gib es deiner Tante, du
geiler Fickhengst!" und " von deinem harten Fickprügel kann ich nie genug
bekommen!" waren nur einige ihrer verbalen Ausbrüche, mit denen sie sich
und ihren jungen Liebhaber zu immer höheren Stufen der Ekstase
aufschaukelte. Lena de Winter beobachtete fasziniert das Liebesspiel der
beiden vom Alter her so verschiedenen Partner, indem sie seitlich neben
dem wie besessen in das wabernde Loch seiner Patentante fickenden Jungen
hockte und sich, dabei vor Sehnsucht fast vergehend, selbst die vollen
Brüste und die sabbernde Pflaume stimulierte. Auch sie wollte von diesem
Mordsschwanz endlich durchgestoßen werden und sie konnte sich nicht
erinnern, in ihrem 32jährigen Leben jemals so scharf auf ein hartes,
langes Stück Männerfleisch gewesen zu sein. Doch noch war Hanna nicht
bereit, ihr diesen Wunsch zu gewähren, denn im Moment steuerte sie
unaufhaltsam auf ihren nächsten Orgasmus zu und der wie ein stählerner
Pflog immer tiefer in sie vordringende Dampfhammer pfählte ihren Leib
förmlich auf den bereits von Mösensaft triefenden Glastisch. Noch 3 oder 4
animalisch Stöße des jungen Bullen über ihr waren genug, da riss ein
tosender Höhepunkt die 37jährige mit sich und lies sie nicht eher wieder
los, bis die Quelle ihrer durchpflügten Punze langsam versiegte. Simon
hieb sein pochendes Rohr während ihres Orgasmus bis zum Anschlag in die
überkochende Fotze seiner Tante und genoss das Beben und Zucken in ihr mit
jeder Faser seines beinharten Freudenspenders. Hanna schrie und grunzte die
Wellen der Lust aus sich heraus und krallte sich mit zitternden Fingern in
Simons Knackarsch fest, bis ihr explodierender Körper plötzlich
erschlaffte und sie ermattet alle viere von sich streckte.
Nach Minuten der Entspannung und der langsamen Rückkehr in die Realität
nahm Hanna befriedigt war, dass der steife Riemen des 16jährigen noch
immer in ihr steckte und ,scheinbar wie von selbst, langsam weiterzuficken
begann. Doch sie hatte ihr Recht nun bekommen und ließ den begnadeten
Prügel ihres Neffen mit einer leichten Bewegung ihres Beckens aus ihrer
wund gestoßenen Dose gleiten. Etwas enttäuscht blickte Simon sie an, doch
milde lächelnd gab Hanna ihm einen langen, zärtlichen Kuss uns sprach:
"Das war wieder wundervoll, mein Liebling! Aber jetzt möchte ich, dass du
es Lena auch so schön besorgst! Mach mir ja keine Schande!" An Lena
gewand, die schon nicht mehr damit gerechnet hatte, doch noch in den
Genuss des nun über und über von Mösenschleim beschmierten Lustdolches zu
kommen, fuhr sie fort: "Komm zu mir, Schönheit! Jetzt darfst du ihn
genießen - und zwar in deinem Arsch!!" Lena erschrak etwas bei diesen
Worten, denn bis auf einige Male, wo sie sich selbst befriedigt hatte und
mal einen Finger oder ihren Lieblingsdildo in ihr enges Hinterteil
eingeführt hatte, war noch kein richtiger Schwanz auf diese Art in sie
eingedrungen. Doch ihre Neugier und die mittlerweile fast unerträgliche
Gier nach dem wohl perfektesten Stück Männerfleisch, das sie bisher
gesehen hatte, gewann rasch die Oberhand, so dass sie Hannas Anweisungen
ohne zu zögern folgte und sich mit ihrem ausladenden Becken direkt über
deren erwartungsvolles Gesicht kniete.
Vor Lenas Augen befand sich jetzt die auslaufende Möse Hannas, sowie der
soeben noch tief darin versunkene Penis des Teenagers, dessen Länge und
Umfang ihr nun aber doch den Atem stocken ließen und etwas ängstlich bat
sie: "Er soll aber bitte vorsichtig sein! Ich hatte noch nie einen
richtigen Schwanz im Arsch - und schon gar keinen wie diesen!" Dabei
schnappte sie mit einer Hand nach dem besudelten Rohr und als ob sie
versuchen würde, ihn etwas kleiner zu kriegen, lutschte und schleckte sie
daran, wie besessen, doch natürlich war genau das Gegenteil der Fall und
Simon schien es, als würde sein Glied vor Geilheit gleich bersten. Hanna
betrachtete unterdessen hungrig die direkt über ihr verlockend duftende
Fickspalte Lenas. Deren 2 Gold beringte, äußere Schamlippen öffnete Hanna,
indem sie die langen Nägel von Zeige und Ringfinger in jeweils einen
Piercingring dirigierte und so weit sie konnte die extravaganten Finger
spreizte. Wie ein Blumenkelch am Morgen öffnete sich Lenas Lustknospe
feucht glänzend und Hanna stieß ihren noch freien Mittelfinger tief in das
aufnahmebereite Loch. Lena stöhnte dumpf auf, da der mächtige Phallus in
ihrem Mund den Lustschrei stark abdämpfte. "Hab keine Angst - ich werde
dich gründlich auf diesen Prachtschwanz vorbereiten!" beschwichtigte Hanna
die aufgewühlte Frau und ließ ihre spitze Zunge sogleich um deren
erdnussgroßen Kitzler kreisen. Schon nach weniger Zungenschlägen sprudelte
der aromatische Fotzensaft in breiten Bächen aus Lenas weit geöffneter
Punze, doch kurz bevor diese im endgültigen Orgasmusrausch versinken
konnte, stoppte die erfahrene Hanna ihre Leck- und Fickbewegungen mit
Zunge und Fingern abrupt. Schmatzend ließ sie ihren Mittelfinger aus der
triefenden Möse gleiten, krallte beide Hände stattdessen fest in Lenas
vollreife Arschbacken und spreizte diese fast zum zerreißen auseinander.
Nun tauchte sie ihre schlangenartige Zunge tief in die zuckende Muschi und
saugte deren quellenden Sirup gierig damit ein. Doch sie wollte den
schmierigen Schleim nicht für sich, sondern ließ diesen über ihr
gelenkiges Leckinstrument, welches bereits wieder ein Stück höher
gewandert war, aus ihrem Mund heraus, direkt auf Lenas zartrosa
schimmerndes Poloch fließen. Dort verteilte sie den breiigen Saft mit der
Zungenspitze rund um die faltige Rosette und stieß sanft aber energisch,
so weit sie kam, in den engen Enddarm hinein. Ob dieser unbekannten
Stimulation ihres Rektums grunzte Lena de Winter aus tiefster Brust ihr
Lustempfinden hinaus und ließ dabei den knochenharten Prügel aus ihrem
unermüdlich lutschenden Mund gleiten. "Oh jaaaaaa, Hanna! Das fühlt sich
unglaublich geil an!!" rief sie und warf den blonden Schopf in den Nacken,
"Gib mir mehr, fick meinen Arsch, Liebste!!!" Als hätte sie nur auf diesen
Aufruf gewartet, ließ Hanna jetzt ihre Zunge aus dem dunklen Kanal
zurückweichen und setzte stattdessen die Nagelspitze ihres mit Goldring
und -kette verzierten Mittelfingers an den empfindlichen Hintereingang an.
Vorsichtig, Zentimeter für Zentimeter, drang der leicht gebogene
Fingernagel samt der edelmetallenen Assesouires in das jungfräuliche
Hinterteil ein, bis die ganzen 6 cm komplett darin versunken waren und
Hanna die selig stöhnende Lena kehlig fragt: "Willst du auch noch den
Rest?" "Ja bitte! Fick mich mit deinem geilen Finger!!!" kam Lenas Antwort
postwendend und mit geschlossenen Augen, sowie einem tiefen Knurren empfing
sie genussvoll Hannas Mittelfinger in voller Länge. Gefühlvoll ließ die
reife Frau ihre Mittelkralle in dem engen Enddarm der heiser stöhnenden
Blondine rein- und raus gleiten, während sie ihr Gesicht tief in die
direkt über ihr auslaufenden Fotze vergrub und Lena abermals mit ihrem
fickenden Zungen- und Fingerspiel fast um den Verstand brachte.
Simon war inzwischen an das andere Ende des Glastisches gegangen, auf dem
sich die 2 Sex strotzenden Frauen in der 69er-Stellung ihren lesbischen
Neigungen frönten. Er stand nun direkt hinter Lena de Winter und hatte
einen herrlichen Blick auf deren, von seiner Patentante penetrierten,
Prachthintern und die vor Geilheit triefende Leckpflaume. Als Hanna den
heiß geliebten Neffenschwanz erblickte, ergriff ihre freie Hand diesen
umgehend und ließ die langen, schwarzen Nägel sanft über die zum zerreißen
gespannte Penishaut streicheln. Plötzlich verkrampfte sich der auf ihr
liegende Frauenkörper ekstatisch und Lena schrie einen mächtigen Orgasmus
aus sich heraus, bei dem Hannas Finger aus dem über ihr prangenden
Arschloch rutschte und ihr Gesicht von Lenas sprudelndem Mösenschleim
nahezu ertränkt wurde. Den frischen Fotzenhonig gierig schluckend und nach
Luft ringend, ließ Hannas betörender Mund wieder von der ejakulierenden
Fickspalte ab und rieb sich das besudelte Gesicht an Simons aalglattem
Lustschwengel sauber. "Steig auf den Tisch - Sie ist jetzt bereit für
Dich!" forderte seine Tante ihn auf und Simon kam dem umgehend nach. Um
mit seinem Fickkolben an Lenas hoch emporgereckten Prachtarsch
heranzureichen, musste er sich breitbeinig und leicht gebückt über sie
stellen. Zwar konnte er in dieser etwas unbequemen Position seinen Riemen
nur schwer selbst an dem empfangsbereiten Hintereingang ansetzen, doch in
dieser Stellung würde er dafür umso tiefer in sie eindringen können.
Hanna, die den harten Prügel mit ihren Krallen umschlossen hielt, führte
sich diesen noch einmal genussvoll zum Mund und küsste die dunkelblau
leuchtende Eichel liebevoll mit ihren schwarz glänzenden Lippen. Ein paar
mal ließ sie ihre seidige Zunge um die glatte Oberfläche kreisen und
wanderte dann zärtlich leckend an der Unterseite hinab, bis zur dünn
behaarten Schwanzwurzel. Als ihr saugender Mund Simons tief
herunterhängende Hodenbälle erreichte und diese nacheinander schmatzend
abschleckte, erzitterte der junge Mann wohlig aufstöhnend und grunzte: "Oh
Tantchen, du bist einmalig!" "Ich weiß!" brachte diese undeutlich hervor,
"Ich schenke dir diesen wundervollen Arsch und ich will, das du es ihr
genauso besorgst, wie ich es dir gestern gezeigt habe, mein Junge!" Sie
ließ Simons Eichel noch einmal tief in Lenas siffendes Schleimloch
eintauchen und dirigierte sie dann direkt vor deren faltig lockendes
Poloch. Jetzt krallte sie ihre extraordinären Nägel wieder in die prallen
Arschbacken der erwartungsvoll ausharrenden Frau und spreizte diese
dermaßen weit auseinander, dass Simons Eichel fast von allein in das weit
geöffnete Rektum glitt. Es bedurfte nur einer leichten Bewegung seines
Beckens, schon hatte die Schleim beschmierte Schwanzkrone Lenas
Schließmuskel passiert und drang unaufhörlich weiter in ihren engen,
heißen Enddarm ein. Lena jaulte wie eine läufige Hündin, teils aus
Erschrecken und teils aus zutiefst empfundener Lust, lautstark auf: "Oh
Gott!! Du spaltest mich ja mit deinem Riesenschwanz!!!" Simon stoppte
abrupt ab und sein Rohr steckte nun bis zur Hälfte im drallen Hintern der
Geschäftsfrau. Er war sich nicht sicher, ob ihr Aufschrei aus Protest oder
aus Befriedigung erfolgte. Doch als seine Tante, welche die anale
Penetration mit wachsender Erregung verfolgte, ihm mit den Worten: "Mach
weiter mein Liebling - sie wird es gleich genießen!" wieder anstachelte,
trieb er seinen Kolben bis zum Anschlag in das dunstige Loch und genoss
die warme, erdrückende Enge, die ihn nun fest umschloss. Unter ihm wand
sich die extrem attraktive Frau in ihrer jetzt endlich gestillten Gier
nach einem harten Männerschwanz wie besessen und ihr göttlicher Arsch
entzog sich ihm nicht, sondern presste sich stattdessen immer härter gegen
den jungen Fickriemen. Dieses Gefühl der Stärke und die absolute Hingabe
der heiser keuchenden 32jährigen ließen Simon alle Zweifel vergessen und
er bumste wie ein Berserker, immer schneller und rücksichtsloser in ihren
Darm hinein. "Ja, so ist es richtig! Zeig es ihr! Mach sie fertig - die
verfickte Arschfotze!!!" hörte er seine Tante rufen, während diese mit
einer Hand seine schaukelnden Eier massierte und mit der anderen wieder an
Lenas klitschnasser Möse manipulierte. Dabei ließ sie Mittel- und
Zeigefinger tief in die schleimende Lustgrotte vorstoßen und umspielte mit
ihrem superlangen Daumennagel den dick geschwollenen Kitzler. Lena wurde
aufgrund dieser zusätzlichen Stimulationen fast wahnsinnig vor Erregung.
Die Gefühle auskostend, welche die forschenden Finger Hannas und der
hämmernde Schwanz Simons ihrem Unterleib bescherten, ergab sie sich
vollständig ihrer animalischen Lust, bis ein gewaltiger Orgasmus ihren
ganzen Körper, bis in die kleinste Faser erfasste, der ihr Innerstes nach
Außen zu kehren schien und die mit dem Gesicht direkt unter der
ejakulierenden Möse liegende Hanna mit ihrem sprudelnden Fotzenschleim
schier überflutete. Simon, dessen fleißiger Bolzen während Lenas
Orgasmusrausches in voller Länge in ihr steckte und von der sich
ekstatisch verkrampfenden Analmuskulatur gefangen gehalten wurde, spürte
von seiner Schwanzspitze bis zur Wurzel, wie die Orgasmuswellen durch den
von ihm schonungslos gestoßenen, reifen Frauenkörper wogten und glaubte an
der Unterseite seines Lustdolches, durch die Scheidenwand und die ihn fest
umklammernde Darmhaut hindurch, die langen, kratzenden Fingernägel seiner
Patentante zu spüren. Da er sich heute bereits zweimal in Hannas Mund
entladen hatte, war es ihm möglich, diesen extremen Reizungen stand zu
halten und er konnte das Verlangen, seine, durch die ständige Stimulation
seiner Hoden wieder neu produzierten Samenzellen tief in Lenas
unkontrolliert zuckendes Rektum zu vergießen, noch beherrschen. Lena
unterdessen hatte ihr vor Wollust verkrampftes Gesicht tief in Hannas
dicklippiger Fickspalte vergraben und wenn ihre eigenen Lustschreie und
-seufzer ihr Zeit zum Atmen ließen, bedankte sie sich mit innigen
Liebkosungen an der eben noch vom eigenen Neffen gestoßenen Tantenfotze.
So dauerte es nicht lange, bis auch Hanna abermals von orgiastischen
Krämpfen geschüttelt wurde und die beiden Frauen sich gegenseitig den
Nektar aus ihren vollreifen Mösen schleckten. Simon rührte sich keinen
Millimeter aus dem sich langsam entspannenden Enddarm Lenas heraus und
hielt ihre vollen Brüste, deren Ringverzierte Warzen extrem hart
angeschwollen waren, von hinten mit beiden Händen fest umklammert. Noch
halb benommen richtete sich Lena langsam wieder auf und zog den über ihr
hockenden Jungen mit einem Griff in den Nacken zu sich herunter. Sie
drehte ihren Kopf so weit so konnte nach hinten und Simon sah in ihre
verklärt blickenden Augen, die tiefe Befriedigung und Zufriedenheit
ausstrahlten. Ihre vollen roten Lippen waren von Hannas Fotzensirup feucht
beschmiert als sie Simons Kopf zu ihrem zog und sich ihre Lippen zu einem
lang andauernden, innigen Zungenkuss trafen. "Ich danke dir! Das war
wundervoll! Der beste Fick den ich je hatte!" haucht sie dem noch immer in
ihrem Hintern steckenden Jungen ins Ohr, griff mit einer Hand nach hinten
an den strammen Riemen und umfasste diesen zärtlich, als sie ihn Stück für
Stück genussvoll aus ihrem Darm hinaus gleiten ließ.
Aus der festen Umklammerung von Lenas Arschloch entlassen, stand Simons
Prügel rötlich glänzend standartengleich von seinem jugendlichen Körper ab
und wurden von den beiden hemmungslosen Frauen sofort wieder in Anspruch
genommen. Während ihre schöne Hand an der langen Stange gefühlvoll melkend
auf und abfuhr, drehte sich Lena mit etwas wackeligen Beinen um, so dass
sie nun Gesicht zu Gesicht mit der unter ihr liegenden Hanna auf dem
stabilen Glastisch kniete. Auch Hannas schwarz geschminkte Lippen waren
noch vom Ejakulat der blonden Gespielin besudelt, als sie diese lüstern
öffnete um den dicken Tropfen klarer Vorschmiere von Simons tiefblau
pulsierender Eichel zu lecken. "Darf ich ihn auch noch mal küssen?" fragte
Lena die genussvoll schmatzende Freundin ungeduldig. "Er hat mich so
wundervoll gestoßen - dafür muss ich ihn einfach belohnen!" Hanna drückte
mit ihren wulstigen Lippen noch einen dicken Schmatzer auf die
Schwanzspitze ihres Patensohnes und sagte mit rauchiger Stimme fast
feierlich: "Ja, Liebste, du darfst. Zusammen werden wir diesem strammen
Junghengst jetzt den letzten Tropfen aus den Eiern saugen!!" Kurz trafen
sich die leckenden Zungen der Frauen zu einem innigen Kuss, bevor sich
Hanna ein Stück weiter unter den über ihrem Gesicht knienden Simon schob
und mit weit geöffnetem Mund nach dessen Hodensack schnappte. Zärtlich
ließ sie ihre gelenkige Zunge um die empfindlichen Bälle kreisen, während
ihre krallenartigen Hände nach Lenas prallen Brüsten tasteten und diese
gefühlvoll zusammenpressten. Diese tat es ihr gleich und griff mit beiden
teuer beringten Händen nach Hannas, aus dem Lackbody emporragenden,
Supertitten, um sich an ihnen festzuklammern. Simons nässende Fickstange
prangte direkt vor ihrem Gesicht als sie ihm lächelnd in die Augen blickte
und sagte: "Jetzt fick mich in den Mund, du geile Sau! Ich will alles von
dir haben!!" Ihre roten Lippen schlossen sich fest um die pochende Eichel
und glitten unter kehligem Grunzen immer weiter an dem adrigen Schaft
hinab. Ab und zu schloss Lena dabei genießerisch die Lider, aber nur kurz,
denn sie wollte in den Augen des Jungen sehen, wie sehr er diese Behandlung
genoss. Für Simon hätte das Leben in diesem Moment zu Ende seien können, es
hätte ihn nicht gestört. Denn was er in diesem Augenblick fühlte, als seine
geliebte Patentante behutsam aber energisch seine Hoden in ihrem warmen,
feuchten Mund umzüngelte und die elegante Blondine seinen zuckenden
Schwanz immer tiefer in ihren Rachen saugte, musste der Himmel auf Erden
sein und eine weitere Steigerung seines Lustempfindens konnte er sich
nicht vorstellen. Gestern Morgen noch, als er allein bei sich zu Hause im
Bett lag, hatte er sich auf die Frauen in seinen Playboyheften, die er in
seinem Zimmer versteckt hatte, heimlich einen runtergeholt und nun war er
kurz davor, einer mehr als attraktiven Frau, die er gerade mal 2 Stunden
kannte, seinen heißen Samen in den Mund zu spritzen, geradewegs so, wie er
es heute bereits zweimal bei seiner Tante Hanna getan hatte. Eben diese
Hanna war es, welcher er sein "neues Leben" zu verdanken hatte. Sie hatte,
in nur 2 Tagen, aus dem unreifen Jungen einen potenten Liebhaber gemacht,
der sich nichts Schöneres vorstellen konnte, als seinen Saft für sie zu
verspritzen und wenn es sein musste, ohne zu zögern für sie gestorben
wäre.
Aus diesem Grund vergewisserte er sich bei ihr nach und fragte ächzend:
"Ich - Ich komme gleich, Tante! Bitte, darf ich in Frau de Winters Mund
spritzen?" als er langsam spürte, dass die Bemühungen der beiden
Superfrauen um die Essens seiner Lenden in Kürze von Erfolg gekrönt sein
würden. Hanna ließ die dicken Klöten schmatzend aus ihrem göttlichen Mund
gleiten, packte seinen mächtigen Riemen mit einer Hand an der Wurzel, den
faltigen Sack mit der anderen und antwortete: "Gib ihr alles was du hast,
mein Junge! Sie hat es sich verdient!!" Die langen Fingernägel ihrer
linken Hand drückten Simons bockendes Rohr nach unten und seine pumpende
Eichel in Lenas weit aufgerissenen Fickmund, während seine
hochempfindlichen Samenkugeln von den Nägeln der rechten Hand sachte auf
und abgewogen wurden. Auch Lena konnte es nun nicht mehr erwarten, den
heißen Saft des Jungen zu empfangen und krallte lüstern stöhnend ihre
Rotnageligen Hände fest in dessen Pobacken, um ihn in dieser Position zu
halten. Als nun Hanna den etwa 6 cm langen Nagel ihres rechten
Zeigefingers mit der Spitze über die Unterseite von Simons schon
schmerzhaft harten Penis kratzen lies und mit ihrer Zunge über dessen
kurzen Damm, bis zu seinem sensiblen Arschloch vor- und schließlich tief
eindrang, brüllte der Junge, gleich einem wilden Stier, hemmungslos seinen
Orgasmus hinaus und überschwemmte Lenas Mund mit erneut animalischen Mengen
an Samenflüssigkeit, die auch die beiden erfahrenen Frauen ihm nicht noch
einmal zugtraut hätten. So schluckte Lena soviel sie konnte von der
köstlichen Hodensoße herunter. Aber da, wie aus einer nie versiegenden
Quelle, immer neue Schübe des klebrigen Honigs aus der violetten Nille
schossen, lief ihr der weißliche Brei bald aus den Mundwinkeln, über den
schlanken Hals, bis auf die vollreifen Brüsten und tropfte in dicken Fäden
von ihrem Schleimbeschmierten Kinn auf Hannas gewaltige Titten.
"Unglaublich, wie dieser Junge spritzen kann!!" grunzte Lena keuchend als
die glitschige Eichel ihrem saugenden Mund entglitt, so dass auch Hanna
sich nun ihren Anteil sichern wollte und ihren Zungenfick in Simons
Hintern beendete. Zufrieden stöhnend lutschte sie die letzten Samenfäden
aus dem langsam abschwellenden Phallus und diesen dann der Länge nach
sauber, bis kein Tropfen des kostbaren Nektars mehr in oder an ihm klebte.
Simon schwanden langsam die Kräfte und er stieg mit wackeligen Knien von
dem mit Körpersäften besudelten Glastisch, um sich müde in den weichen
Ledersessel fallen zu lassen. Zwar war sein stolzer Schwanz nun zu einer
ziemlich weichen Wurst geschrumpft, die dringend einer Pause bedurfte,
doch konnte er seine Augen nicht von den 2 hemmungslosen Frauen abwenden,
die sich gegenseitig, in völliger Wollust versunken, seinen Samen von
Händen, Brüsten und Gesichtern leckten. Als sie dies nach endlos
erscheinenden Minuten beendeten, stiegen auch die beiden Sperma süchtigen
Frauen vom Tisch und nahmen den erschöpft aber glücklich lächelnden Simon
in ihre Mitte. Mit ihren langen Nägeln streichelten sie über seinen Körper
und abwechselnd küssten sie den völlig leer gespritzten Teenager sowie
einander mit wilden Zungenspielen, bei denen Simon den eigentümlichen
Geschmack seines Samens kostete, was ihm aber keinesfalls unangenehm war.
Nach einer Weile war es Hanna, die das glückselige Treiben beendete und
lächelnd zu Lena sagte: "Danke für diesen anregenden Nachmittag, meine
Beste. Aber jetzt wird es Zeit für uns. Ich glaube, unser junger
Liebessklave braucht dringend ein warmes Bad und was Ordentliches zu
Essen, damit er Morgen wieder bei Kräften ist! Komm uns doch zum Kaffee
besuchen - dann können wir dort weitermachen, wo wir heute aufgehört
haben!" "Ich danke euch!" antwortete Lena de Winter im Gegenzug. "Du
glaubst gar nicht, wie sehr ich es genossen habe, das du dieses
Prachtstück mit mir geteilt hasst!" und an Simon gewandt fuhr sie fort:
"Wenn du es auch möchtest, würde ich euch gern besuchen - willst du?" Wie
als Zustimmung streichelte Simon über Lenas perfekte Brüste, gab ihr einen
letzten Kuss und sagte: "Wenn Tante Hanna es erlaubt, können sie mit mir
machen was sie wollen, Frau de Winter!" "Das wollte ich hören!" nickte
Hanna wohlwollend. "Mir scheint, als hättest du deine heutige Lektion
gelernt! Dann bin ich mal gespannt, wie dir die morgige gefallen wird!"
Simon blickte ihr leicht irritiert in die Augen, deren Funkeln ihm
verriet, das sie bereits wusste, womit sie ihren Neffen am nächsten Tag
überraschen wollte. Doch dies ist eine andere Geschichte
---------------------------------------------------- - --- -
seVac - erotische Geschichten im Netz!
http://www.seVac.com
-
Encounter
Encounter…by Stryker
It was dark and smoky in the club, and the pulsating techno music was so deafening it
made it hard to think. But it hardly mattered because he wasnt there looking to meet his
soulmate. He was horny, and she was hot. There were no words exchanged, only looks.
He motioned with his head toward the door, and she grabbed her little purse and slid off
her stool. He followed her through the crowd, watching her hips swaying and her little
ass rolling as she walked, her long legs moving sensuously perched on six-inch heels, her
shimmering golden hair swishing across her back. His dick was hard as a rock, his pulse
quickening, his breath heavy with desire. "Your place? My place?" he asked as they
came outside. The parking valet interrupted. "Black Range Rover," he said quickly, and
the valet ran off. "Are the windows tinted?" she asked him. He cocked his head.
"Yeah…" he replied. "Perfect," she whispered in his ear.
They got in his car and drove away. "By the way, Im Jon," he said. There was a long
pause while he realized she didnt care what his name was and wasnt going to tell him
hers. Theyd driven for about ten minutes when she said, "This is nice, but for the kind
of ride I want, youll have to park." He smiled and pulled off on a residential street and
parked along the curb, as far from a street light as he could, and shut off the engine. He
leaned over the console, expecting her to meet him halfway. She nodded toward the back
seat and he crawled through between the front seats and held out his hand and she took it.
He noticed for the first time that she had very long nails. Much longer than any woman
hed dated in a long while. They werent polished, and they werent thick and square
either, they were delicately curved, and filed to tapered ovals, not quite pointed. "Are
those real?" he asked. "Very," she replied. "Theyre kind of sexy," he said. "Kind of?!"
she said, incensed. "No, no, I meant theyre really sexy!" he said, sensing hed almost
blown it with her. "So, my nails turn you on?" she asked, scraping them along his sleeve,
making a crackling sound. "Uhh…sure, yeah," he said. "Good," she said. She reached
back and pulled her shoes off by the heels. "Then youre about to be twice as turned on,"
she said, placing one bare foot in his lap. He did a double-take when he saw that her
toenails were very long as well. Maybe only half as long as her fingernails, but with the
same oval taper, and polished dark cherry red. "Ill do anything for a guy whos into my
nails," she said, bringing her mouth toward his with her tongue poised between her parted
lips, "Anything." She sealed her mouth on his and penetrated him with her tongue. He
felt her rub his cock through his pants. "Take it out," she commanded, and he quickly
complied. He jumped as she grasped his cock between her big toe and the others.
"Afraid Ill scratch you with my long toenails?" she asked. "N-no…" he stuttered. "You
should be," she whispered, stroking them along his hard dick, "Theyre very sharp." He
looked frightened. She smiled. "I wont hurt you on purpose. Just dont make any
sudden moves and youll be ok." He laughed nervously. "I could get you off in a minute
with my toes," she said. He sighed eagerly, already feeling himself rising rapidly to a
climax from her warm, soft toes and the occasional light scrape of her long toenails.
"Or," she continued, "I could keep you on the edge of cumming for hours, until your
balls ache and youre sobbing and begging me for that final stroke Ive denied you so
many times." He felt himself nearing the crest, and looked at her pleadingly. "Like this,"
she grinned slyly, and lifted her toes from his dick.
She kissed his neck softly. Again, and again, slowly working her way down to his collar.
He thrust his hand into her blouse and cupped her firm breast. She reached in after him,
and pulled his hand out, holding his arm firmly above his head with her long fingernails
buried into the thin skin under his wrist. "Aagh! Shit! Let go!" he screamed. "I make all
the moves. Understand?" she hissed. "S-sure! Ok! Whatever. Now let go!" he cried. "I
didnt hear a please," she whispered, and dug her fingernails in harder. "Please!
Please!" he cried, trying to wrest his arm from her grasp, which only made it hurt more.
"Thats better," she said, and very slowly withdrew her long, sharp fingernails from his
flesh. As each nail emerged from the puncture it had made, a trickle of blood followed.
She watched his pained expression and flashed a sultry smile. Then she whispered in his
ear, "The only thing that makes me hotter than a guy whos into my nails, is getting my
nails into a guy." Before he could react, she sealed her lips on his and resumed rubbing
and stroking his cock with her toes, occasionally raking it gently with her long toenails,
enslaving him once again to his rising sexual desire.
She could tell by his breathing and the intensity of his kiss that he was about to cum.
"You dont want me to stop this time, do you?" she whispered. "N-no, God, dont stop,"
he whined. "You forgot please again!" she said in a little-girly voice. "Please! Please!
Pleeeeaaaase!" he cried. "Next time youll know," she said in her girly voice, and lifted
her foot from his cock. Frustrated and angry, he grabbed her ankle. She quickly
scratched her long, sharp fingernails across the back of his hand, and he screamed and let
go. "Shit!" he yelled, nursing the four bleeding tracks shed made, "Thats it. Get out of
my car. Were done!" Like lightning she was on him, one hand grasping his neck
painfully with her sharp fingernails, the other with fingers curled and long nails poised
before his face. "I say when were done," she hissed angrily, her eyes burning with rage.
Seeing his terror, her expression softened and she smiled. She closed her eyes and sighed
and kissed his lips passionately, stroking his face gently with her nails, but at the same
time digging the others deeper into his neck. When shed finished the kiss she leaned
back against the car door and raised her feet to his face. "Caress my feet," she
commanded.
Gingerly he took her feet and ran his hands over them. She inhaled sharply and exhaled
with a soft moan. "Run your fingers between my toes," she sighed. He complied, and
she gripped his fingers with her toes. She moaned contentedly and he saw that she had
one hand inside her blouse fondling her nipples, and the other hand under her skirt
fingering herself. "I could do that for you," he offered. She pulled her feet from his
hands and shoved his head back, stabbing the very long toenails of her big toes under his
chin and digging the other toenails into his throat. "How many times do I have to tell you
I make all the moves?" she snapped. "Im sorry! I forgot!" he cried. "The next time you
forget Ill leave you permanent scars to remind you the rest of your life," she said coldly,
digging her toenails in harder for emphasis. "Ok! Ok! Give me another chance," he
whimpered, quickly adding, "Please!" He felt her relax her grip. He felt her toenails
prick his chin as she tugged it down with one foot, and she poked her other toes past his
lips. "You know what I want," she said. He held her ankles gently and went to work
kissing and sucking her toes, and she went back to fondling and fingering herself.
"Your…tongue…between…my…toes," she panted in little squeaky gasps. He did as he
was told, and she moaned loudly and curled her toes tightly, scraping his lips and tongue
with her sharp long toenails. Her body shook for several moments and then she went
limp. He leaned back against the car door, facing her. The corners of her mouth curled
into a devilish smile and she bit her lower lip. In a second she put her legs between his
and had his dick between her feet, stroking him at first with her silken soles, getting him
instantly hard; and then with the undersides of her toes. Still wet from his saliva, they
slipped easily up and down his smooth, rigid shaft, driving him rapidly toward a climax.
She slipped her hands up under his cuffs and slid his socks down and off. She ran her
soft, warm hands slowly up his calves. He couldnt help moan out loud as he neared
ready to shoot his load. She laughed softly. At the same moment, she took both feet
away from his cock and clawed her fingernails ferociously down his shins to his ankles.
"Aggh…Fucking bitch!" he screamed. She scowled and grabbed his bare feet, hooking
her fingernails into the tops while stabbing her long, sharp thumbnails into his soles at
their most sensitive spot, in mid-arch. "I hate that word," she hissed. "Shit! Fuck!
Goddamnit, let go! Please! I apologize!" he cried. He tried to pull his legs away but she
just dug those nearly-pointed long, strong thumbnails in deeper and harder, and the pain
sapped all his strength. "Id like to keep it up so you cant walk for a month," she said
coldly, "But right now my pussy needs you to eat her, so this is your lucky day." And
she withdrew her dagger-like nails from his feet…slowly…and then took her panties off
and spread her legs wide. "Well? What are you waiting for?" she said impatiently as he
began to rub his injured feet, and she grabbed his head, digging her nails into his scalp as
she pulled his face toward her pussy that was already glistening in anticipation.
She wrapped her legs over his shoulders and rubbed her heels up and down his back
while he began tonguing her. "Oh my God! Yesssss! Do it! Do it!" she moaned,
clutching and clawing the car seat. He heard the ripping sound and glanced up to see
how easily her long, oval-tipped fingernails tore through to the raw leather beneath the
black upholstery. He felt her grab the back of his shirt with her toes and pull it out of his
pants, and then dig her long toenails into the small of his back. Her moans got louder and
she forced her crotch harder against his face and slid her toes under his boxers and
clawed his ass with her toenails. Suddenly she sank her long, sharpened fingernails into
the back of his neck and screamed and convulsed for several moments, then she relaxed.
Cautiously he lifted his head and looked at her, not sure if his work was done, and not
wanting to provoke her ire. She smiled and sighed, "That was pleasant." His face was
wet with her pussy juices, and a droplet fell from his chin. He went to wipe himself with
his sleeve, but she quickly grabbed his arm. Pulling herself up, she ran her fingers
through his hair and proceeded to lick his face clean. "Yum," she said, "I love the way I
taste. Dont you?" An answer not forthcoming immediately, she grasped his face with
her sharp fingernails and angrily said, "Well? Dont you?" "Y-yes! Yes I l-love how
you taste," he said quickly, feeling the nearly-pointed tips of her talons bearing painfully
into his face. "Excellent," she said, relaxing her hold a little, and commanded, "Eat me
out again." Still clutching his face with her nails, she guided his face back to her waiting
pussy.
This time while he ate her out she rolled partway on her side and began playing with his
dick with her foot. "Maybe Ill let you cum with me," she said, lazily raking his shaft
back and forth with her long, sharp toenails. She could feel his labored breathing against
her mound, and she laughed, "My toes are driving you insane arent they." "Mmm hmm,"
he agreed, his face buried in her snatch. She took his cock between her big toe and the
next and started stroking faster. He started lapping his tongue against her clit at the same
rhythm. "My God!" she cried and as she convulsed from her sudden and unexpected
orgasm she pressed his cock against his leg with force, and curled her toes, digging in
with her toenails. The sharp pricks brought him back from the edge, again. Again she sat
up and licked his face clean from her juices, but this time her nostrils flared and she was
panting. "What if I were to fuck you?" she asked breathlessly. "Well, I…" he started to
say. "I wasnt really asking a question," she said curtly, and she kissed him ferociously.
She dragged her sharp thumbnails across his face, somewhat gently, but he sensed
distinctly that she was fighting a powerful urge to do it much harder.
She hurriedly undressed herself. "Take your clothes off!" she screamed. He seemed
hesitant. "Youre not shy?" she snorted. "N-no, its…" he hemmed. She smiled
compassionately. "Ohhh, I know what it is. Youre worried I will rip your naked body to
pieces with these," she said curling her fingers to bare her long, oval-tipped fingernails.
"Well, dont worry," she said slipping his shirt off gently. She ran her hands lightly over
his back, spread her legs and encouraged him to penetrate her. She whispered in his ear,
"I will," at the same moment she dug her fingernails into his upper back and raked them
fiercely down. "Aaaaaaiiiiieeeee!!!" he screamed. Immediately she reached back up and
dug her fingernails into him again. Her suffocating kiss muffled his cries as she tore her
nails down his back a second time, then a third, and a fourth. Grinding her hips against
his cock she screamed, "Harder! Fuck me harder! Oh yessss! Thats it! Ohhhh God
youre soooo deep inside me!" She dug her ungodly-sharp fingernails into his neck and
pulled herself tighter to him, dug her long, sharp toenails into the back of his knees and
clawed up and down the back of his thighs. "Im cummmmmmiiinnnnng!" she screamed
and then she sank her teeth into his shoulder and the Range Rover shook like an
earthquake.
She paused only a second to savor her climax and then she shoved him on his back and
got on top of him. She tossed her hair and arched her back and closed her eyes as she
rode him. She grabbed his arms frantically, impaling him carelessly with her sharpened
long fingernails, and pulled his hands to her breasts. "Do my nipples!" she whined with
urgent desperation. He fondled her gently but she clawed her nails into the back of his
hands and screamed, "Do it hard!!" Blood was trickling from where each of her nails
were buried deeply into his hands, and the pain was excruciating, but he knew he had no
choice but to obey her. "Mmmmmmm, yeah! Thats good!" she moaned when he
pinched and twisted her hard nipples roughly, and she released her claw-grip. "I like
you," she drawled, and she raised one knee and dug the very long toenail on her big toe
into his hip and scratched down hard and slow. "I know you like me," she smiled, and
leaned down and gave him another long, suffocating kiss. He could feel his balls tighten,
and his cock tingle with the beginning of ejaculation, and he groaned loudly. "Ooooooh,
I think someones ready to cum," she cooed in his ear while swabbing it with her hot
tongue. "Yeaaaaah," he croaked hoarsely. "Me!" she screamed and sat up suddenly,
raking her horrendously-sharp long fingernails down his front. "Aaaaaaghhh shiiiiit!" he
cried as her eyes rolled back and she shook violently.
She collapsed on him panting hard. Her salty sweat poured into his fresh scratch wounds
and burned like acid. He tried to roll her off, but she clasped his face using her nails, and
gave him a long, hard kiss. "See, I told you Ill do anything for a guy whos into my
nails," she said and trailed her nails down his face and across his collar, increasing
pressure as she went. "Anything but let me cum," he complained. "Ohhh, poor baby!"
she mocked. She slid her leg up and wrapped her toes around his still-hard cock and
stroked him slowly with her sharp long toenails. She kissed him again, and caressed his
face gently with the oval tips of her long, sharp fingernails. Faster and faster she jerked
his cock with her toes. She smiled at him and he smiled back, hovering on the verge of
cumming, and very grateful she would finally let him have release. "What if I were to
move in with you?" she asked. "W-what?!" he stammered in panic. Suddenly she lifted
her foot from his cock and dragged a sharpened fingernail harshly down his cheek and
said, "I wasnt really asking a question."
-
Ex-girlfriend
A very interesting thing happened to me the other night. I was at home reading
when I heard a knock at my door. I got up to answer it and to my surprise it was
my ex girlfriend, who I haven't dated in about a year. I asked her what she was
doing here and she said she had a fight with her husband and needed someone to
talk to. Robyn is gorgeous- 5'7" skinny and blonde. I poured some drinks and we
went into the living room to talk. I listened to her problems about her rich
older husband(she is 22 and he is 36) who doesn't pay enough attention to her.
All the time we talked I couldn't take my eyes off of her nails. They were about
2" long and painted dark maroon almost black. She always had long nails but not
this long. She kind of teased me with them as we talked(she knows how much long
nails turn me on). After a few more drinks she asked me if I would like to paint
her nails for her, something I used to do all of the time. I became instantly
erect at the thought. She took some nailpolish remover out of her bag and told
me I would have to remove the old polish first. This done she pulled out a
bottle of bright neon green nailpolish and handed it to me, telling me I better
do a good job. I was shaking so bad from excitement I thought I would spill the
bottle on her skirt. I got through the job and she was satisfied. By now we were
both pretty hot for each other and decided to go upstairs. In the bedroom Robyn
began to remove her clothes and told me to do the same aand put on some flannel
boxer her shorts which turn her on for some strange reason. She showed off her
dark tan, she also has a new tattoo on her shoulder and has pierced her
bellybutton and clitoris. She said she got them to get her husbands attention
but it didn't work, they sure got mine though.
She told me I should worship her newly painted nails(she was always quite
dominant). I began to lick, suck, and kiss her long fingers taking each one in
and out of my mouth. She told me to kiss and lick her wedding ring as she
pinched my nipples hard with the other hand. After a while of this she handed me
a bottle of massage oil and told me to give her good rub down but not to touch
any off limit areas. What a tease, I don't know how long I rubbed her for but it
seemed like hours. When I was done she gave me a deep tounge kiss and put some
oil on my now rock hard cock. She stroked me for a few minutes and then told me
I should finish the job myself because a married women shouldn't do such things.
she told me to come in her outstretched hands, and after a few strokes I shot a
massive load all over her hands and fingers. She told me to lick off everydrop,
and I eagerly did. We both got dressed and she told me she would be back next
week for another massage nad that I should pick out a new color of nailpolish
that I like. I can't wait to see her again. I'll keep you posted.
Follow Ups:
Re: Ex-girlfriend Harvey 18:29:14 11/13/98 (0)
Post a Followup
Name :
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Subject : Re: Ex-girlfriend
Comments:
: A very interesting thing happened to me the other night. I was at home reading when I heard a knock at my door. I got up to answer it and to my surprise it was my ex girlfriend, who I haven't dated in about a year. I asked her what she was doing here and she said she had a fight with her husband and needed someone to talk to. Robyn is gorgeous- 5'7" skinny and blonde. I poured some drinks and we went into the living room to talk. I listened to her problems about her rich older husband(she is 22 and he is 36) who doesn't pay enough attention to her. All the time we talked I couldn't take my eyes off of her nails. They were about 2" long and painted dark maroon almost black. She always had long nails but not this long. She kind of teased me with them as we talked(she knows how much long nails turn me on). After a few more drinks she asked me if I would like to paint her nails for her, something I used to do all of the time. I became instantly erect at the thought. She took some nailpolish remover out of her bag and told me I would have to remove the old polish first. This done she pulled out a bottle of bright neon green nailpolish and handed it to me, telling me I better do a good job. I was shaking so bad from excitement I thought I would spill the bottle on her skirt. I got through the job and she was satisfied. By now we were both pretty hot for each other and decided to go upstairs. In the bedroom Robyn began to remove her clothes and told me to do the same aand put on some flannel boxer her shorts which turn her on for some strange reason. She showed off her dark tan, she also has a new tattoo on her shoulder and has pierced her bellybutton and clitoris. She said she got them to get her husbands attention but it didn't work, they sure got mine though.
: She told me I should worship her newly painted nails(she was always quite dominant). I began to lick, suck, and kiss her long fingers taking each one in and out of my mouth. She told me to kiss and lick her wedding ring as she pinched my nipples hard with the other hand. After a while of this she handed me a bottle of massage oil and told me to give her good rub down but not to touch any off limit areas. What a tease, I don't know how long I rubbed her for but it seemed like hours. When I was done she gave me a deep tounge kiss and put some oil on my now rock hard cock. She stroked me for a few minutes and then told me I should finish the job myself because a married women shouldn't do such things. she told me to come in her outstretched hands, and after a few strokes I shot a massive load all over her hands and fingers. She told me to lick off everydrop, and I eagerly did. We both got dressed and she told me she would be back next week for another massage nad that I should pick out a new color of nailpolish that I like. I can't wait to see her again. I'll keep you posted.
-
Fetish by Dora Lee
Fetish by Dora Lee
Fetish
by Dora Lee, Copyright 1998
"The best way to double your money is to fold it in half and stick it in your pocket" Frank McKinney Hubbard
Fetish
It was Friday and as I waited for my last patient of the day, I noticed with a little aggravation, it was a new patient. My secretary had specific instructions not to schedule new patients on afternoons or Fridays, but she was on vacation and had obviously not instructed the temp accordingly. To my further chagrin, it was a female patient. Female patients were good in terms of advancing therapy, because they were more verbal about their feelings than men. But they were not so ideal if you wanted to catch the 5:50 to Chappaqua. I resigned myself to the notion that I would probably be late for my birthday supper and began leafing through her initial file when the temp buzzed me.
"Miss Donovan is here," she pronounced.
"Thank you. Have a good weekend," I responded; trying not to sound too annoyed.
The door opened slowly and a tall, slim woman walked in smiling. She was an attractive woman with a pleasant smile dressed in summer white. Her top, made of some sort of clingy material, ended just above her navel. A matching ankle- length skirt of the same material completed the outfit. The skirt clung to every muscle and bone of her slim body and exposed her tanned legs through a slit on the side.
Playing the psychiatrist game, I tried to guess her predicament, since she had not been very forthright on the reason for her visit. Anorexia? No, not thin enough. Bulimia? I didn't think so, she had perfect teeth and soft, radiant skin. She also had rather large, perfectly round breasts, which she opted not to enslave in a brassiere on this day. No, definitely not an eating disorder.
"Good afternoon, Miss Donovan --"
"Please. Call me Lynn," she said, again with that smile. "Very well, Lynn. What brings you to my office today?"
"A small problem, really," she said, smiling demurely as she rummaged through her purse. "I'm sorry, there is no smoking in here," I said, gruffly, in anticipation of her next move. "I don't smoke, doctor," she answered. Her voice was mellow and sugary. It reminded me of some erstwhile Hollywood starlet, all pouts and dreamy eyes and a cigarette dangling from red lips. She took her hand out of her purse and put it on her lap, obviously holding something in her right hand. "Anyway," I coughed, "you were about to say?"
"Red."
"Red?"
"My problem?"
"You have a problem with the color red?"
"Not so much a problem as a - condition."
"A condition."
"Yes."
"And what condition is that?"
"Let me show you."
She opened her hand and in it I saw a small bottle of nail polish. It was red. I didn't know where she was headed with her little display and, frankly, was in no mood for games. Looking over at the clock on my desk, I noticed the time. Four thirty. The odds on catching my train were getting slimmer by the minute; she still had half an hour to go on her visit.
Miss Donovan began opening the bottle of polish. Her nails were very long and perfectly shaped. They were devoid of nail polish and looked pink and healthy. I was right, not an eating disorder. I smiled at the thought. She misunderstood my smile and smiled back at me, this time broadly. I tried not to blush, but felt the heat rise from my neck.
"I like this brand. It dries almost instantly," she purred. I chose to remain silent and let her continue her little charade.
Slowly and with great precision, she began to apply the red polish to her left thumb. The brush, wet and heavy with color, glided effortlessly down her nail bed from the base outward. She painted each nail thoroughly; concentrating on each one and making sure there were no spills or smudges. I was careful not to speak a word while she performed her ritual, but noticed that my shirt collar was damp. I felt a familiar stirring in my groin and immediately adjusted my body on the chair, trying to compose myself. How unprofessional of me, I thought, to react like a man when I was supposed to be detached and clinical.
When the last nail was done, Lynn looked up at me and beamed. She fanned out all ten fingers in my direction. "Do you like them, doctor?" she asked, hopeful.
"They are very nice, Lynn," I responded, incapable of saying another word. In my capacity as a psychiatrist it is my duty to encourage patients to verbalize their feelings. Many patients try to evade the emotional conflicts that bring them to an analyst's office. It is up to the physician to constantly keep them focused on the problem at hand and accelerate the process of healing. But today, all my training was forgotten. All I was interested in was this woman sitting across from me, her long nails painted ruby red.
"Thank you," she whispered. At once, her hands were in her purse once again, searching. Patiently, I sat and waited to see what she would produce next.
All efforts aside, my cock was thickening in my pants and I didn't know quite what to do about it. Clearly she couldn't see me from the waist down, but somehow I had the feeling she knew. "Don't be ridiculous, Tom," I chided myself, but still couldn't shake the feeling that I was right.
Lynn pulled out a tube of lipstick from her purse and went on to open it as she looked at me. My cock began to stiffen even more when I saw the way she held the tube, her long, red nails surrounding it. On her left hand she had a small mirror which she used to check herself as she applied the red lipstick. Red. I was beginning to see what her "condition" was. Fetish. Red. A fetish with the color red? But why was she wearing white? Why not surround herself with the color red? Was it just applying red colors? "Give her a chance," I thought, "stop trying to analyze without evidence!"
She applied the red lipstick skillfully, making sure not to go over the lines of her lips. And what beautiful lips! They made a perfect heart shape when she closed them, a sensuous valentine. Every so often she would purse them, as though she were sucking on sweet candy and it drove me wild. I realized that this woman, who had come in as a patient, was slowly turning into a person in front of my eyes. Whereas before I only saw the complete picture, I was now noticing the details. Her long, spiky nails, her heart-shaped lips her nipples. Yes, her nipples were hard now and they were straining against the fabric of her top. I couldn't take my eyes away from the two small round bumps at the end of her full breasts. I wanted so badly to take them into my mouth and suck them gently, feel them roll around in my mouth and lick them endlessly.
My fully erect cock was throbbing gently now, pushing against my slacks. God, how I wanted to let down my zipper and pull it out. How I wanted to show her the effect her actions had on my body. Try as I might, I couldn't go back to my training to gain control over my arousal. It was too late, I wanted to feel hard, to throb, to have the inside of this woman's cunt surround my thick cock.
As if reading my mind, she stood up and walked toward me slowly, deliberately. I was speechless at this point, unable to move. She had a way of walking that was at once odd and slutty. Her pelvis jutted forward, not unlike a pregnant woman does to gain balance when her abdomen becomes enlarged. Her shoulders dropped backward, making her breasts jut out slightly. Probably a calculated move, but it worked. The flimsy fabric of her skirt tightened around her hips and her hipbones were clearly visible. Her hands were placed on either side of her thighs; their long nails spread out and looking like dangerous spikes.
My mouth opened slightly, but no words came forth. She placed the nail of her pointer finger sideways against her red lips. "Shhh," she hissed. I obliged.
I backed away from my desk and moved my chair to the side where she stood, towering over me. For the longest time she just stared at me, pursing her candy-sucking lips and tapping her red nails against her thighs. I had the feeling she was giving me time. Time to think? To run? To put an end to this? All I wanted to do was turn her around and shove my cock deeply into her pussy, fuck her so hard she would scream out for mercy. Then again, I also wanted to lay her down on the couch and spread her thin legs, smell her cunt, press my tongue against her clit and lick her gently. Or perhaps she'd prefer it if I slowly fed her my raging hard on, let her swallow it whole and start to fuck her mouth rhythmically, pulling her toward me by her hair. I couldn't believe the range of fantasies dancing through my head. I was beyond the point of doctor-patient relationship now; all I wanted was her pussy!
Lynn started to undo the buttons of my shirt. She was methodical in this task, manipulating each button between her red nails, pushing them through the eyelet with care, gently scratching my chest with each movement. I was breathing heavily now. With each deep breath I took in her sensual fragrance. Her perfume was heavy with spices with an undertone of citrus. What an intoxicating aroma! I wanted to run my fingers through her hair, feel the softness of it, but didn't know if I was allowed to. So I just sat there, at her mercy. When she was done with all the buttons, she opened my shirt to expose my chest. Automatically, I moved to take the shirt off, but she stopped me. This was her show, she was in charge. I acquiesced willingly.
"Nice," she murmured, "very nice." I slumped forward on the chair and laid my head back as she started to run her fingernails down my chest. She was drawing sensual patterns on my skin, pausing to tangle her fingers on the hairs of my chest, grabbing and pulling them gently. My cock bounced softly against my body with each movement of her hands. I raised my head once more to take it all in. She had a mesmerized look on her face as though hypnotized by her own actions. With each passing, her nails left hot, gently stinging trails on my chest. Suddenly, her long, red nails met in the middle and slowly scratched their way down to my throbbing cock. I felt as if I were going to cum right then and there, so excited was I by her touch.
"I want to see it. I want to feel it," she begged. "Yes. Yes," I answered huskily. I undid my belt buckle and unzipped my pants in one motion. My hands were shaking from the excitement. Without standing from my chair, I eased the slacks down my hips and onto the floor. My cock felt huge against my boxer shorts and it gave me a ridiculous sense of confidence, like a teenager showing off to his date. Instead of pulling down my shorts, I pulled my hard cock out through the opening in the front. It was thick and hard, every single vein bulging around it. Pre cum was freely oozing from its head, making it glisten.
Lynn began to run her fingernails up and down my cock, her face a mask of passion. She massaged me with tenderness, taking her time. I bit my lip hard in response to her touch. The nails scratched and tickled at times but these feelings were tempered by the fleeting touch of the skin of her hands against mine. I was fascinated by her actions; she was like a child playing with a new doll. All thoughts of time were gone from my head at this point. All thoughts of home, supper, the weekend. I wanted this moment to last as long as time itself. My only preoccupation now was pleasure and lust.
"Your lips," I whispered, "your red lips."
"Yes," she said, hissing, "red."
The red heart that was her mouth opened slowly and began to descend upon my cock. I clenched my teeth when I felt her hot mouth on me and grabbed the side of my chair, digging my nails into it trying to assuage the threat of orgasm. My cock disappeared completely into her mouth, just as it had in my fantasies. She then slowly eased it out of her mouth, taking care to look me straight in the eyes as she did. God, those lips, those candy sucking lips! Without letting go of my cock, she sucked the head gently all the while gazing into my eyes. She then ran the back of her tongue over the tip of my wet cock, dipping it into my hole every now and then, driving me wild. What a vision, those luscious red lips! What a turn on those long, red, spiky fingernails spread out over my pelvis, softly scratching my pubic hair, at times disappearing under my cock and holding my tight balls. I wanted to cum so badly. I wanted to cream all over her red lips. To see my milky cum coating her lips and slowly dripping down their side. I wanted to see her spread it over her face with those long fingernails.
As if reading my thoughts, she pulled away. "Not yet," she said teasingly. She stood up and walked away, sashaying her hips as she did. I held my cock in my hand and lay back, gasping, trying to control myself. Afraid to stroke myself to orgasm, I just squeezed it gently and waited. "Lynn --"
"Shhh," she admonished, "don't speak." I want you to look at my pussy. My head shot up and I eagerly waited. Standing in front of me, she raised one leg, resting it on the desk. She used her nails to pinch the fabric of her skirt and slowly bring it up over her legs, her thighs, and her hips. She wasn't wearing a thing under the skirt, which didn't surprise me one bit.
Her pussy was shaven to perfection, closely cropped hair surrounded the meaty skin of her pubis, but the lips were completely devoid of hair. It was small and perfect. The lips were compact and her clit was barely visible in spite of the lack of hair. "Spread them for me," I whispered. Lynn was eager to oblige. Of course she used her long fingernails to do my bidding. With either hand, she positioned her red fingernails at the edge of her pussy lips and spread them gently. At last I caught a glimpse of her tiny clit, so hard and shiny, like a beautiful pearl. I wanted at once to take it into my mouth and suck it, enlarge it and roll it in my tongue. I grabbed her ass firmly and brought her cunt to my face. She didn't resist this time.
I didn't know where to begin. I wanted to take my time and savor her lovely cunt, taste her juices, smell her musk. My tongue eagerly began to explore her tight lips, licking them gently and thoroughly, tasting her salty skin. I felt her juices almost instantly begin to flow around my face as I probed her folds. She moaned deeply when I shoved my tongue deep into her hole, squeezing her ass tightly as I did. Wanting to devour her cunt, I lost all control, tongue-fucking her deeply, pressing my face firmly against her pussy. Then, the prize. That wonderful pearl became mine as I sucked her tiny clit gently, coaxing it into my mouth, tonguing it lightly and making her shiver all over. Her moans encouraged me further and I slipped my middle finger into her cunt, probing, massaging her as I continued to suck on her now enlarged clit. My finger was drenched with her juices and I immediately took it out of her cunt and started pressing it against her asshole, gently pushing it further in while I tongue fucked her pussy once more. She began to stiffen and shake all over, gasping and moaning as I fucked her ass with my finger and her cunt with my tongue in one hot motion. "Fuck me!" she begged, "Oh, please, fuck me!"
I pushed her down on her knees and fed her my cock once more delaying just a bit the finale to this incredible session. She eagerly swallowed it and started sucking me frantically, scratching my chest with her nails as her head moved up and down on my prick. Her hot tongue massaged me expertly, pressing against my cock as she took it in, easing the suction a bit as she spit me back out. I grabbed a handful of her hair and guided her head while my hips moved back and forth as I fucked her mouth. Her mouth became a cunt, swallowing my cock thoroughly.
When I felt like I couldn't take it anymore, I pulled my cock out of her mouth and turned her around, pushing her down on my desk. I raised her skirt and spread her legs wide. The vision of her hot pussy, glistening with her juices was too much to bear and I dropped to my knees, once more devouring her cunt. I ran my tongue up and down her swollen pussy, rubbing my face against it with each passing. God, how I loved this pussy! Lynn was shaking violently now, her legs thrashing as she came. My mouth covered her entire pussy now, my hot tongue covering every inch of it. I paused at the bottom to suck her hard, throbbing clit then slowly crept all the way up to her asshole, which I licked hungrily, dipping my tongue in deeper with each passing of my tongue. I started to finger fuck her cunt slowly, my finger easily being swallowed by her wet pussy all the way to the knuckle, making soft sucking noises as it thrust in and out. Lynn's entire body shook with another orgasm and I knew it was time.
Lynn was slumping over on the desk now, exhausted from cumming. Her legs were spread wide and her pussy was open and inviting. I took one last look at her wet cunt before taking my cock in my hand and pressing it against it. For a brief moment, I savored the heat and wetness of her while I rubbed my cock up and down her engorged lips. It took every ounce of strength left in my body not to shove my cock violently into her pussy. She began grinding her hips, gyrating in sensuous rhythm, inviting me in. I pressed my cock against her wet cunt and watched it slip in. Her pussy was so hot inside that I almost pulled out immediately! Never had I felt such burning heat, it was scary and wonderful. Trying to keep my composure and clenching my teeth against the onrush of feelings, I began to slowly pump my cock in and out of her pussy. She began gasping and moaning almost instantly. I tried to ignore her moans, to concentrate on fucking her for as long as I could.
Before long, I was fucking her with a steady rhythm that made my whole body one raw nerve. I couldn't take much longer of this; she was so hot, so tight. Slowly but surely, the orgasm started to come together. Her moans were loud and continuous and she was grinding her pussy against my skin, burying my cock even deeper. I felt heat rise from my balls all the way up my dick and at that instant shot hot cum deep inside her cunt, thrusting violently with each wave. Lynn stood up and pressed her body to mine. We were drenched in sweat and totally exhausted. I couldn't remember ever having fucked a woman like this before. And I don't think I'd soon forget it.
She disengaged herself from me and walked toward the door. I wanted her to stay longer, to bask in the afterglow of sex together. "Don't; not yet" I pleaded.
"I have a message for you," she said.
"For me?" I asked, amused. "From whom?"
"Your wife."
I blanched. A million thoughts rushed through my head at once. Detective. Photographs. Divorce. Blackmail!
"She says --"
"Yes? What!"
"Happy birthday."
End
-
Forewarned
Forewarned…by Stryker
It was Friday evening. Tom Beard had brought his best friend Jake Kozlowski to an
after-work party because Jake had been in a dating slump ever since he and his girlfriend
Brandi had broken up. Tom never liked Brandi and couldnt figure out what Jake saw in
her. She was, in Toms vernacular, dumb as a bag of hammers, drank and smoked too
much, and couldve used to dress a little less slutty or else lose about twenty pounds.
And then there were her gross nails. They were all scraggly and different lengths but
very long and curved like claws, and her polish was always halfway chipped off, and she
wore large, garish rings on every finger including her thumbs. So Tom was eager to
introduce Jake to a higher class of woman, someone more on his own intellectual level,
and whom Tom could stand to be around too.
"Darcie, I want you to meet my best friend Jake," Tom said bringing Jake toward a well-
dressed young woman with shoulder-length dark hair and dark sultry eyes. "Hi Jake,"
Darcie said as she offered him her hand. Tom smiled to himself, thinking what a classy
lady Darcie was. She wore a small, plain silver ring on one finger of each hand, and her
nails were clipped short and neat and had a coat of transparent pink polish. "Hi," Jake
said, clearly distracted and scanning the room with his eyes, "Excuse me will you? I
want to grab a beer." "Whats wrong with her?" Tom asked Jake with annoyance as he
pulled his friend aside. "Nothing. She seems very nice," Jake said, although there was
an unspoken but implied by his tone. "I cant believe you, man!" Tom exclaimed,
"Darcies hot, single, classy and sweet. Whassup with you? Youre only attracted to
skanks?" "Its complicated, bro," Jake said, still scanning the room with his eyes, "You
wouldnt understand." "Try me," Tom said. "I cant, man," Jake apologized. "Im your
best bud!" Tom pleaded. "I know man, and I appreciate it. But I…like I said, its
complicated. Lets just leave it at that," Jake sighed. "Whatever," Tom said with a shrug
of resignation. "Hey, whos she?" Jake asked grabbing Tom by the arm and nodding
toward a young woman in a light-blue sweater with a thick mop of short brown hair who
was standing alone against the far wall holding a beer. "You mean the one with the
early-Beatles haircut?" Tom asked with a snort, "Thats Kim, and you dont want her,
trust me." "Why not?" Jake asked. Tom shook his head, "Fuck man, there must be thirty
hot, amazing women at this party and you zone in on Kim?!" "Shes kind of cute," Jake
mused. "Ok, maybe. Sort of cute, I guess. But shes, like, psycho!" Tom said.
"Mmmm! Now Im really intrigued," Jake smiled. "Dude, Im serious," Tom said, "If
you decide to ask her out, better duck." Jake looked at his friend perplexed. Tom
explained, "This guy Chuck, he liked her too. They used to talk all the time, and it
seemed like he was making progress. Then one day in the parking lot he asked her
out…and the bitch scratched him!" Jake drew a deep breath. "Exactly!" Tom exclaimed,
"For no reason at all. She just reached out and scratched his face. Poor asshole had the
scars on his cheek for a month." "Umm…yeah. Listen, Tom, Im going to mingle
around by myself for a while, ok?" Jake said walking away. "It was nice knowing you,
bro," Tom said shaking his head as he watched his friend make a beeline for Kim.
"Hi…Kim? Im Jake," he said. She brought her beer to her lips and took a swig, all the
time keeping her pale gray eyes fixed on his with an apprehensive look. "You know my
name," she said suspiciously. "Im with Tom Beard," he said quickly, and she raised her
dark eyebrows. Jake blushed, "No! Wait, thats not what I meant. Well, yes, I am with
him, as in, he brought me here, but were not…I mean, were straight. Hes my best
friend." Jake laughed embarrassedly, hoping for a laugh or at least a smile from her that
signaled the ice had been broken. But she looked at him the same expressionless way
and said nothing. Jake began to consider the warning Tom had given him. Something
with Kim did seem off. But just then she took another swig of beer, and Jake fixated on
what had drawn him to her in the first place: Her long fingernails. Even from across the
room he could see the whites of her nails, and up close he could now see just how long
they were. At least three-fourths of an inch. They were shaped with precise symmetry, to
perfect tapered ovals. They were her own nails, there wasnt a hint of acrylic, nor even
any polish. She had nice long nail beds, and the nails were arc-shaped across, not flat.
Lengthwise they were very slightly curved. Jake could tell they were very strong and
flexible, as none of them was shorter as if having been broken, and the edges were thin,
so he knew they had to be very sharp. It didnt surprise Jake that shed left long-lasting
marks when shed scratched that guy Chuck. Jake could tell all those things about Kims
nails just from looking, because looking at long nails was something hed been doing
since he was a small boy. That was what had led him to choose every girl hed ever
dated. It was what he couldnt tell even his best friend.
"So if you know my name I assume Tom told you about me," Kim said, following Jakes
gaze to her hands and back to his eyes, "Or should I say, warned you about me?" Kim
tapped her nails on her beer, and scraped her long thumbnail slowly across the label,
peeling off a strip of the wet paper. "I came over to talk to you, didnt I?" Jake observed
with a smile. "Just to talk? Are you gonna to ask me out or are you too scared I might
scratch you?" she asked clicking her long fingernails on her beer bottle. "Will you
scratch me?" Jake responded. "Maybe if you say please," she said with a smile and a
flutter of her dark eyelashes, shaping her long-nailed fingers into a claw. Jake could
barely contain himself. "Wanna get out of here?" he asked, offering her his upturned
palm. Without taking her eyes off him Kim finished her beer and set it on the table, and
she put her icy, wet hand in his and lightly dragged her nails across his palm. "Why not,"
she said with ennui, and she started for the door with Jake in close pursuit, keeping his
jacket in front of him to hide the large bulge in his pants. Outside, Jake asked pleasantly,
"Would you like to go dancing?" Kim shrugged, "I suppose we could go someplace
crowded and noisy and get all hot and sweaty." "You have a better idea?" Jake asked.
Kim came close and smiled into his eyes and said, "Yeah. Someplace quiet where we
could be alone and get all hot and sweaty." She toyed with his shirt collar, and in doing
so he felt her nails scrape against his Adams apple. Jake gulped. "I live five minutes
from here," she said resting her hand softly on his arm, "You can follow me. I promise I
wont go very fast…until we get there." As she stepped away from Jake she dragged her
long fingernails down his arm, a little quicker and harder than he expected, and it stung
and left red lines. "Oh dear, did I scratch you?" she asked with stilted insincerity and a
wry smile, and without waiting for his response she walked purposefully toward her car
with her hard little ass moving seductively inside her tight jeans.
Jake followed Kim to a little bungalow high in the hills overlooking the city. It was very
nicely decorated, and everything was neat and clean. "Would you like a beer?" she
asked. "Sure," he answered. Kim went to the refrigerator and brought two cans of Miller
Light. Jake held his breath as she began to slip her index nail under the pop-top. "Here,
let me do that for you!" he cried. "Ive got nails," she smiled. "Yes but you might…"
Jake began. "Break one?" she finished, "Nah. They never break." Kim handed Jake a
beer and glanced her long pinkie nail across the back of his hand and said, "Thanks for
being concerned about them though. They are the love of my life." Jake could feel his
heart pound and his dick harden. "Really?" he asked as he sat down on her couch with
her kneeling next to him. "Uh huh," she said, "I gather you love them too." "Well I…"
Jake hesitated. Kim rested her hand against the side of his face and brought her lips close
to his. "Admit it, my nails turn you on," she said caressing his cheek with their tips. Jake
could hear their sharpness as they skated across his stubble, and her breath was hot and
sweet. "You turn me on," he said earnestly. "Bullshit," she whispered, her lips touching
his, "If I didnt have long nails you wouldnt have given me a second look at the party.
Admit it." "Thats not…" he protested. "You dont have to finesse me. I like it that my
nails are the deal-maker, in fact it turns me on more than if it was my brains or my
personality. And certainly more than if it was my tits. What turns me off is if youre not
honest about it. If you want to get in my pants, youll have to be open with me," she said.
"Youre nails are awesome," Jake blurted, "Ive never seen nails that sexy before, and
believe me, Im a connosieuer." Kim beamed, "See, that wasnt so hard was it?" "Ive
never admitted that to anyone before," Jake said. "So, how does it feel?" she asked.
"Good. Great. Liberating," he replied. Kim smiled and then she open-mouth kissed
him. "I guess I was always afraid women would be offended, or think I was sick, or
both," Jake confessed. "It takes a certain kind of woman to understand and appreciate a
guy whos deep into her nails," Kim said as she came in for another hot kiss. Their
tongues probed inside each others mouths, and she slipped her hand down into his shirt
and skated her long fingernails around his chest, then ran her soft fingers up to his
neck…and with suddenness, she gave him a quick, hard scratch. "Ow!" Jake reeled and
slapped his hand to his neck. When he took his hand away he saw there was blood on his
palm, and he looked at Kim with alarm. "What did you do that for?" he asked, "That
hurt!" Kim licked the tips of her long nails clean, and then licked her lips. "A moment
ago you said my nails were the sexiest youve ever seen. Did you think I grow them and
care for them for someone elses pleasure?" she asked. "Hurting someone gives you
pleasure?" Jake asked with dismay. "Not the hurting. The scratching, " Kim stated
factually, "It arouses me like nothing else." She made a graceful turn with her hand and
fingers, her nails glistening from her saliva. "But of course if you want to leave…" she
began slyly. Jake quickly gave his head a shake. The corners of Kims lips curled up
into a knowing grin. "Like I said," she said softly, leaning in to kiss him again, "It takes
a certain kind of woman to understand a guy whos deep into her nails."
While she kissed him, Kim ran her fingers through his hair and scratched the back of his
head softly. It drove Jake wild, and he began to kiss her harder. She straddled his lap
and returned the urgency of his kiss. When she kissed and licked his neck where shed
scratched him he flinched and whimpered from the burning sensation. She blew softly on
the scratches and the evaporation of her saliva cooled and soothed. She traced the
scratches with her soft, warm fingertips, and then again with a little more pressure, and
again with still more pressure. "Its pretty sore there," Jake said, but Kim continued.
Jake opened his eyes and saw that hers were half-closed, and she was licking her lips. He
felt the sharpness of her nails against his neck, and before he could blink she gave him
another quick, hard scratch, exactly retracing his raw wounds. "Fuck!" Jake cried. Kim
muffled him with a steamy-hot kiss. She shook back her mop of thick, dark hair and
leered at Jake. "That was so hot!" she gushed breathlessly, and then delved into another
kiss. "I love to scratch a guy over and over in the same spot," she informed, "The
scratches just keep getting deeper and redder and…oooooh…" She closed her eyes
tightly and shivered her shoulders and plunged her tongue back into Jakes mouth. "Y-
youre gonna keep scratching my neck over and over all night?" Jake whined. Kim
laughed, "Of course not." Jake felt at his burning neck and sighed with relief. "Im
going to scratch every inch of your body over and over all night," she said with a
sarcastic smirk, and added, "Unless of course you dont want to spend the night with
me…and my nails."
Jake began to suggest meekly, "Maybe you could try just a little bit…not to do it quite
so…" "It isnt open to negotiation," Kim said dispassionately, "My needs are what they
are. But make up your mind now, because Im getting hornier by the second. You need
to decide now if youre into me or not." Jake could feel his neck throbbing from where
shed scratched it hard, not once but twice, and imagined how painful it would be a third
time. He tried to imagine that kind of pain magnified all over his body. He looked into
her penetrating pale-gray eyes, and at her full, pink lips that only moments ago had kissed
him with a passion hed never before felt. Jake stared unabashedly at Kims long,
magnificent fingernails, and she twitched her fingers impatiently. He knew she was
about to lose interest in him, that he had to decide at that moment whether to give in to
her or chicken out. Her nails were so perfect, like hed only dreamed existed. "Wheres
your bedroom?" he asked with a resolute sigh.
Kim smiled, and kissed Jakes cheek. "Ive got a much better place in mind," she
whispered, taking his hand. She led him through the small kitchen to a door that opened
on a stairway to the basement. Still holding his hand she began leading him down the
steps, to the bottom where there was another door. It was dark inside when she closed
the door behind them, and he heard the slap of a metal plate followed by a click.
"Welcome to my playroom," Kim said as she flipped the light switch. Jake saw that the
door was latched and secured with a combination padlock. He swallowed hard and
turned to scan the room. There were oriental motifs everywhere, and the room was lit by
a series of hanging paper lanterns. At one end of the room was a little shrine with a
bamboo mat on the floor in front of it, and a table with an incense holder. Next to it was
a black-lacquered folding privacy partition decorated with paintings of birds in oriental
style. Midway across the room was a round bed with a thick duvet, and next to it a low
wooden stool. At the far end of the room the floor was covered with padded matting, and
on the wall behind it hung several sets of numchuks. "Thats where I practice martial
arts," she whispered, "Ive been doing it since I was nine. Im a sixth-degree master."
Kim slipped behind the partition and Jake watched her sweater and jeans lap over the top
edge, and she emerged barefoot wearing a red silk kimono hand-painted with oriental
motifs. She kneeled down on the mat in front of the shrine and lit several sticks of
incense, bowing her head as she placed each one ceremoniously in the brass holder.
Then she clasped her hands and bowed low before the shrine, remaining in that position
for several seconds before slowly rising to her feet. She walked toward Jake and then
past him, gracefully swirling herself onto the bed. "Undress," she commanded with a
sweep of her hand as she lay propped on her elbow to watch as Jake complied. When he
was down to his briefs, he came toward the bed. "Everything," she said gesturing a long
nail at his underpants. Jake smiled nervously and stepped out of his briefs. Jake smiled
and asked, "Is everything to your liking?" "You mean, do I think your penis is big
enough?" Kim asked bluntly. "Er…um…" Jake fidgeted, surprised by her candor.
"Actually it doesnt matter to me," Kim said posing her ten perfect tapered oval
fingernails, "Any more than my breasts and ass matter to you." Jake could feel himself
blush. He was naked to her in more ways than one.
Jake approached the bed, but Kim sat up and pointed at the small wooden stool. "Sit,"
she said. Jake shrugged and sat down. The stool was a little cold, and more than a little
uncomfortable. Kim stood and let her kimono slither off her to the floor, so she was also
naked. Jake saw she had small breasts and her body was surprisingly muscular, yet no
less sexy and feminine than she had been with her clothes on. She looked him over
slowly. "You have a nice physique," she commended. "Thanks," Jake replied. "Nice,
sculpted pecs…and so smooth," she mused, "I hate hairy chests. Smooth skin is so much
sexier…" Jake smiled modestly. "…to scratch!" Kim finished, lashing out swiftly with a
simultaneous quick, fierce stroke of each of her hands, leaving four symmetrical bleeding
slices across each of his pecs. "Christ!" Jake screamed, wrapping his arms around his
wounded chest. Kim leaned over him and lifted his chin with her fingernails and asked
pointedly, "Just how into long nails are you?" "T-totally…but…" Jake answered.
"Excellent. Because I would be upset if you didnt like these, too" she said stepping back
and lowering her gaze to the floor. Jake followed her eyes down, and Kim wiggled her
toes. They were long and straight, with model-perfect toenails, each of which was grown
out a quarter-inch long, clear-white and shaped straight across except for slightly rounded
corners. "Well?" she asked. "Well what?" Jake said. "Thats hardly an enthusiastic
response," she said, and lashed out with a lightning-fast kick. "Aiiiiieee, Shit! God
dammit!" Jake screamed, and fell off the stool clasping his shin with both hands. For
several seconds he sat there naked on the cold tile floor holding his leg, rocking to and fro
cursing and moaning in pain. When the initial pain subsided a bit Jake opened his hands
and examined his shin. There was a purple bruise that had already swelled to the size of
a walnut, with an arc-shaped cut in the middle that trickled blood. "Want me to go
upstairs and get you some ice for that?" Kim asked sympathetically. "Yes please," Jake
whined, almost in tears from the pain. Kim rolled her eyes, "I wasnt serious! Now act
like a man and get back on the stool before I kick you again… somewhere it will really
hurt."
Jake limped up onto the wooden stool still rubbing the swollen bruise on his shin. "Sit up
straight and dont slouch, its unattractive," Kim said pulling him up by his hair from
behind. She pulled his head back and gave him a long, passionate kiss. While she did
she draped one leg around him and rested her foot between his legs and began playing
with his dick and balls with her toes. He could feel her toenails scrape and poke his
tender skin and the sensation was turning him on like crazy. "You like that dont you
Jake," Kim said into his ear while she probed it with her tongue, "Im driving you insane
arent I?" Kim rubbed his hardon with her butter-soft toes and Jake moaned a feeble,
"Yessssss." "This parts all for you, baby," she cooed. "Ooooohhhhnnnngg," Jake
moaned in ecstatic bliss. "This is for me," she whispered, and before Jake could brace
himself she reached in front and re-scratched the wounds on his chest slow and hard with
her razor-sharp fingernails. "Agghh…God!" he cried out loud as the pain rocketed to his
brain. Kim whirled around and kneeled on his lap to examine what shed done. "Ooooh
baby! My nails are outrageously sharp arent they!" she drawled. Then she positioned
her nails over the cuts and scratched yet again, harder and deeper, and while Jake howled
in pain Kim reached and tore open the scratches on his neck.
"I cant take it! I cant!" Jake screamed and jumped to his feet. "You had your chance to
leave, now its too late. Im much too horny to stop now," Kim said threateningly. Jake
tried to step around her and she dug her fingernails into his shoulders and scratched
violently down both his arms. Jake wrapped his arms around himself and fell to his
knees with heaving yelps of pain. "Get up!" Kim ordered, grabbing his wrist and sinking
her long fingernails in hard. "Ok! Ok! Owwww! Shit!" he screamed, scrambling to his
feet. Kim deftly turned his wrist around and applied pressure in a practiced martial-arts
move. "Youre going to break it!" Jake cried. "Only if you force me to," Kim said
calmly, "Now do as I say and sit on the stool." Jake complied and Kim released his
wrist. He rubbed it and looked forlornly at the arc-shaped bleeding cuts where her nails
had dug in. "Im so fucking horny," Kim announced, "Dont interrupt me again or I
might get really cranky. Ok?" She straddled his lap and moved close until her nipples
were touching his chest, and she took his face in her hands and kissed him with wild lust.
He felt her close her nails into the back of his neck with her thumbnail pressing the side,
and the longer she kissed him the harder she squeezed, until he was screaming into her
mouth from the stabbing pain. Kim relaxed against him breathing deeply. "That was
good for me," she panted "Was it good for you?" Jake didnt answer. She laughed.
Kim shook back her mop of dark hair and wiped the perspiration from her forehead. She
smiled at Jake. "Do you think maybe you could…you know…do something for me
now?" he asked. "I like you. Youre funny," she whispered. "Im serious!" he whined.
"What if I give you a ginormous hickey?" and she started sucking and biting the un-
scratched side of his neck. "Fuck, youre incredible!" Jake gasped. Kim giggled and
nodded, still sucking at his neck. Finally she let go with a loud smack, and gave his lips a
tender kiss. Then she sat back and raked her sharp fingernails swiftly down his chest
with both hands. "Shiiiiiiit!" Jake wailed. "You have really sensitive skin," she smiled
as she enjoyed watching the scratches turn red and swollen and bleed. "Aaaaaaiiiie!
Stop!" he bellowed when Kim reached down and raked her fingernails up both his sides
at once, turned her hands, and raked back down through the same scratches. "Really
sensitive skin!" she repeated with a laugh, "Oh my God this is getting me sooooo hot
again!" "Oh please! Give me a break. Just for a few minutes. Im begging you!" Jake
sobbed. "Oh, alright," Kim sighed, "Hmm…what can we do while youre on break? I
know!" She took his hand gently and held his thumb out straight and slipped it into her
mouth and sucked on it, while she gently scratched his palm with her fingernails. Jake
closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "God you can do the most sexy things with your
nails when you want to," he sighed. She turned his hand palm-up and licked it. "Did you
know that your palm is one of the most sensitive erogenous zones of your entire body?"
she asked. "Really?" Jake panted, nearly overcome with arousal. "Yes," she said, and
touched her thumbnail to the large muscle below his thumb. "And this spot is one of the
most sensitive to pain," she said, and dug her three-fourths inch oval-tipped thumbnail in
hard. "Nooooooooooo!" Jake screamed. "Breaks over," Kim panted as she gouged her
long thumbnail deeper into his muscle, and her eyes rolled back in her head.
"Know where else its really painful?" she asked. "No…I mean, please, no, dont show
me!" Jake pleaded. "Right here at the base of the thumbnail, just behind the cuticle," she
continued, ignoring his plea, and dug her thumbnail into that spot on him.
"Sssssttttoooooopppp!" he wailed. "Youre not being a good sport!" she frowned and
stood up. "Sport? That was the most painful thing I ever felt in my life!" Jake cried,
rubbing his bleeding thumb. The nail was already starting to turn purple. "You only say
that because you havent felt….this," Kim said, and she dug her long big-toenail into the
same spot on his big toe, just behind the cuticle, and bore down with all her weight.
"Aaaagh! Aaaagh! Aaaaagh!" Jake screamed repeatedly. "See, arent I right? Doesnt
it hurt way more than your thumb!" Kim laughed, and before she let up she scratched his
toe-knuckles hard with the rest of her long toenails, and they began to bleed immediately.
"Youre crazy!" Jake screamed. Kims face contorted into a terrifying mask of anger and
evil. "Dont ever say that to me!" she hissed like a serpent, and with lighting speed and
precision gained from her martial arts training, kicked his shin hard with her sharp big-
toenail in exactly the same spot shed kicked him earlier. Jake rolled off the stool
holding his shin and screaming in an ear-splitting high-pitched wail. "Cmon," Kim said
with an eager smile, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet, "Would you like to learn
some martial arts moves? Dont worry, Ive been a certified instructor since I was
sixteen."
Kim dragged Jake hobbling to the far end of the room onto the floor mat. "Youre not
going to use those on me, are you?" he asked apprehensively looking at the numchuks
hanging on the wall. "Not unless you want me to," she laughed. "No thank you," he
said. Kim bowed deeply to him, and then struck a pose with one foot raised to the level
of her opposite knee, and her hands raised above her head with fingers formed like claws.
"Actually Im sure most of my opponents wish I would use the numchuks instead of
these," she laughed, flexing her fingers and toes with their long, deadly-sharp nails, "Ok,
now come at me like youre trying to attack me." "I dont know…" Jake said worriedly.
"Dont worry, Ill go easy on you. Ive got amazing control Watch," she said. Kim spun
on one leg and kicked out her other foot, stopping an inch in front of Jakes panic-
stricken face. The sight of her long toenails projecting from her toes like five little knives
was terrifying. Slowly she lowered her foot to the mat and stood with her legs together
and bowed. "There. Reassured? Ok, so now come at me!" she said. "Ok," Jake said
with a shrug, and he made a run at her. He heard a shrill yell, and quicker than he could
blink, his legs were swept from under him, the room turned upside down, and he came
crashing to the mat on his back with Kim grasping his outstretched arm. "Get up," she
commanded, digging her fingernails into his arm and pulling him to his feet in one move.
"Now I want you to come up from behind me and grab me around the neck and try to
choke me," she said. "This is humiliating you know," Jake muttered. "I know," she
laughed, "But I promise I wont think youre less of a man just because I can kick your
ass." "Oh, you think so?" Jake asked playfully. "I know so," Kim replied with a smile.
Jake flung his arm around Kims neck from behind, and at the same time grabbed her
around the waist. Again he heard her shrill yell, and instantly found himself airborne
over her head and crashing back to the mat on his back in front of her. "Try to punch
me!" she cried excitedly, and Jake sprung to his feet and aimed a right hook squarely for
her face. Another shrill yell, and she had his wrist caught in the clutches of her oval-
tipped nails, his arm turned painfully upside-down with her other hand applying pressure
against his elbow, and she lashed out with her foot and slashed five long scratches across
his chest. "Shit! I call foul! You said you werent going to use your nails!" Jake cried.
"Oh, pfft!" Kim laughed, "I barely grazed you. If Id got you for real youd need to have
your nipple sewed back on." Jake became slightly nauseous from the imagery of that.
"Ok, one more. Last one, I promise," Kim said settling to the mat on her knees, "Try to
pin me." "Ok, but I should warn you I went to college on a wrestling scholarship," Jake
said. "Im trembling with fear," she said sarcastically. "Lets see how cocky you are in a
minute," Jake said crouching down. "Wait…remember, no nails!" he said. "Scouts
honor," she laughed, making the scout hand gesture, which looked ominously absurd
with long, oval-tipped fingernails.
Jake lunged at Kim, but in the split second it took him to get to her, she was already gone,
and he crashed to the mat. "Im over here, Hulk," she laughed. Jake lunged again, and
again she was gone before he got to her. "Ok, I can see youre frustrated so Ill make a
wager with you," she said. "Im listening," he said, playing along. He was beginning to
enjoy this. It was definitely something no woman hed ever known before had wanted to
do on a date! "Ok, Ill stay in one spot and let you put any hold on me you want. I
promise I wont use my nails, and if you pin me, Ill let you fuck me. Hows that
sound?" she smiled. "Like a plan," Jake smiled back. "However," she continued, "If I
pin you…" Kim spread her long-nailed fingers an then drew them closed slowly, licking
her lips. Jake swallowed hard. Kim kneeled gracefully and folded her arms in front of
her. "Any time youre ready," she smiled, and she closed her eyes. Jake got behind her
and put her in a headlock and tried to force her backward. It was like trying to bend a
tree trunk! Jake huffed and puffed but couldnt budge her. He got on his back and
wrapped his legs around her neck and applied his full strength, but it was like trying to
topple a marble statue. He tried several more holds, even tried taking a running start, but
Kim remained unmovable, her eyes closed and a serene expression on her face. Jake lay
on the mat next to her panting and perspiring, winded and completely exhausted. A little
smile began to creep over Kims lips, and gradually she opened her pale gray eyes. "My
turn," she said calmly with a smile. Jake struggled to his knees, and Kim slithered behind
him wrapped one elbow around under his chin with her wrist against the side of his neck,
and placed her other forearm against the back of his neck with her fist against the
opposite side. "Choke holds are illegal!" he cried. "Its not a choke hold," she said
calmly. Jake felt her press hard against the sides of his neck, and when he tried to pry her
loose she simply put her weight forward and his arms went limp. As she continued to
slow the flow of blood to his brain through his carotid arteries, Jake felt a buzzing
sensation in his head, and it felt like the room was spinning. In seconds he found himself
on his back with Kim on top of him, giving him a long, steamy kiss. "Ohhh, God…my
head hurts," Jake moaned. "Its the sudden rush of blood back to your brain. Just lie
still," Kim said soothingly. "What happened?" he groaned. "I won," she smiled,
massaging his temples with her fingers. "I need to sit up," he whined. "Did you forget
our little wager?" Kim whispered, and scratched her long, sharp fingernails swiftly and
forcefully down the sides of his face. Jakes shrieking wail of agony melded with her
soulful moan of ecstasy in chilling discord. "Come!" Kim cried urgently, dragging Jake
to his feet and toward the round bed. He stumbled along, holding his hands to his
burning, bleeding cheeks, his entire body aching. She tossed back the thick duvet and
shoved him roughly onto the bed. Jake caught a quick glance around at the sheet and
noticed many faded brownish stains. Stains which hadnt laundered-out, no doubt left by
his predecessors whose blood Kim had drawn with her sharp nails.
Jakes thoughts returned in an instant to Kim, when he felt her nails under his armpits,
and she raked them quickly down his sides along the scratch lines shed left before. The
pain was sudden and intense, and he screamed. She kneeled over him and leaned down
to kiss him, and while she did, she dragged her long, sharp, oval-tipped fingernails slowly
over his shoulders and down the outside of his upper arms with force, and Jake cried out
although his cry was muffled by their kiss. Kim dug her nails into his biceps harder and
harder as her kiss got stronger, and Jake squirmed and wriggled, crying into their kiss for
her to stop. Still kissing him deeply, Kim reached behind Jakes neck and dug her nails
in, and then she rolled over pulling him on top of her. Assuming she wanted him to fuck
her, Jake positioned himself between her legs. But Kim quickly pulled her knees up,
curled her toes and clawed her sharp toenails down his already-scratched sides, laughing
as he grimaced and cried out. Jake held his sides and took deep breaths, trying to shrug
off the pain. "Keep trying to fuck me. It turns me on. Well, actually, I mean stopping
you from fucking me turns me on," Kim said wiggling her toes. Jake watched her
exceptionally long toenails with wariness, not knowing when or how she would strike
next. He didnt have long to wait. "I said: Keep trying to fuck me!" Kim repeated
insistently, wrapping her legs around Jakes back. Jake wedged his hands inside her
knees and began to pull her legs apart, but she responded by squeezing them together.
The harder Jake tried to pry her legs open, the tighter she squeezed them together. He
was red-faced, white-knuckled and sweating, using all his strength, but he wasnt able to
budge her legs. Her vice-like grip became crushing. "I…cant…breathe…" Jake
gasped. Kim laughed. "N-not…j-joking…" he gasped harder. "This is so hot!" she
exclaimed quietly, and she reached up and scratched his chest fiercely with all ten sharp,
oval-tipped long fingernails, re-opening many of the scratches shed made earlier.
Starved for air, Jake inhaled deeply when she released him from her leg-lock, but quickly
found himself engulfed by another of Kims passionate kisses. She caressed his legs with
her feather-soft feet, up and down, while her hot tongue tickled his palate. Suddenly
there was intense pain on his heels and ankles, and he turned his head quickly to see her
digging and clawing at him with her sharp toenails. Kim grinned, and she gave his
cheeks a quick but fearsome scratch with her long fingernails. "Fucking shit!" Jake cried.
Kim whispered in his ear, "When I said I was going to scratch every inch of you, I bet
you thought I was exaggerating," and she laughed out loud.
"Seriously, I really cant take this anymore. Ill admit your nails turn me on like crazy,
and at first I thought it might even be sexy to get scratched hard. But Ive had it, I want
to leave," Jake said. Kim looked at him and blinked. "Are you finished? Can I say
something now?" she asked. "Sure," he said with a bit of surprise at her calmness. "Ok,"
Kim began with a soft smile, "First, this isnt about you, its totally about me. My wants
and needs. Second, Im not satisfied yet, so you leaving is not an option…or have you
forgotten our little martial-arts match already? I think youll find the consequences of
trying to leave much more painful than you can imagine, but selfishly I hope you go for
it." Taking advantage of her momentary distraction while she lecture him, Jake shoved
Kim off and rolled onto the floor and sprang to his feet, grabbing the wooden stool as he
did. She bounced off the bed and followed him, laughing, as he backed toward the door.
She laughed again when he reached for the padlock, "Think you can guess the
combination before I can get my nails on you?" "Stay back!" Jake warned, brandishing
the stool. He heard an ear-splitting yell and suddenly the stool split in two halves and
Kims long, sharp toenails stopped an inch in front of his face. She laughed and gave
him a quick, stinging scratch on the chin before lowering her foot to the ground. Jake
looked at the broken halves of the stool still in his hands, and for a second he
contemplated trying to beat her with them, but realized he was far outmatched. He
dropped the broken pieces and Kim smiled at him. She pressed him against the door with
her hot, naked body, and she caressed his face and shoulders before tongue-kissing him
hard. "You really get me hot," she whispered in his ear, rubbing her thigh up and down
his. While Kim kissed him ferociously, Jake felt her stand on his feet and dig her sharp
long toenails in, bearing down with all her weight. Simultaneously Kim put her hands on
his hips and dug deeply with her strong, long sharp thumbnails. When she finally took a
step back, Jake slid down the door, throbbing from the pain. Kim reached out one hand
silently and he took it, allowing her to lead him stumbling back to the bed.
"Can we please have sex now?" Jake begged. Kim whispered, "Ive been having sex
since we got here." "How about me?" he asked. "I thought you got off on my nails," she
reminded him. "You havent exactly given me the chance," he said. "Maybe this will
make up for it," she said easing Jake down on his back, and smiling into his eyes Kim
began to slowly and sensuously stroke his cock and balls with her soft fingers. "That
feels good doesnt it?" she asked lowering her face to his cock and speaking directly to it.
"Mmmmm, youre realllly hard arent you?" she asked his dick, "You want to cum
sooooo bad, I can tell!" Jake was gasping and moaning but Kim ignored him and
continued to talk to his cock. "Mmmmm, I feel like kissing you," she said, and began
depositing wet, full-lip kisses slowly up and down his shaft, meanwhile rotating the palm
of her hand lightly over the head. Jake was making little rapid high-pitched whimpers,
and Kim cast him a quick glance and a smile, then turned back to his cock which by now
was swollen and purple. "How do you want me to finish you?" she asked his cock, "Like
this?" And she began to jerk him with her soft, warm hand. Jake gasped and groaned and
shook his head. Kim smiled. "No? Well then, how about like this?" she asked his dick,
and took him deep inside her mouth and slowly withdrew, lightly scraping with her teeth
and licking her tongue around and around. Jake let out a long, mournful moan of
"Noooooo…" "I was just teasing," Kim said, "I know what you want." Jake mustered a
faint smile. "But I want you to tell me anyway," she whispered, rubbing her thumb
lightly up the underside of his shaft and tracing around the rim of his cock head with her
fingers. Jake moaned. "Come on, you can say it," Kim urged him, poising the oval tips
of her three-quarter-inch natural fingernails close to his raging hard-on and slowly
undulating her fingers. In a hoarse gasp, Jake wheezed, "U-use y-your…your…n-n-
nails!" "You want me to use my nails?" she asked. Beet-red and panting, Jake nodded
furiously. "My long, sexy, beautiful nails?" she asked. "Yessss!" Jake cried. "Me too,"
Kim said softly, "I want to use my nails too." And she dug all ten of her sharp, oval-
tipped fingernails deep into his upper thighs and sat up quickly, shrieking with ecstasy
while she clawed him all the way down his legs. Jake let out a blood-curdling scream
and Kim collapsed softly on top of him breathing deeply. Angry and frustrated, Jake
took advantage of Kims momentary weakness and flipped her on her back, spreading her
legs. He held her arms to the bed. He advanced his purple, engorged cock head between
her wet, swollen labia. "Mmmmmm….oh, alright…," Kim moaned, and she said
sweetly, "You dont need to hold me down like youre raping me, ok?" "Sorry," Jake
said as he felt her relax and spread her legs wide. He let go of her arms and she slipped
them around his back with a smile and a sigh.
Suddenly Kim clapped her feet against his sides, dug her sharp long toenails into him and
raked fiercely, at the same time she sank her long fingernails into his shoulders and
flipped him onto his back. She sat up angrily and slashed her fingernails heartlessly
down his already-scratched chest, eliciting an anguished scream. "First off, I dont screw
on the first date," she said. Then she clawed his chest again, to an even louder scream of
pain. "And even when I screw, Im always the one on top. Do you understand?" she
screamed, raking his bloody chest a third time with her extremely sharp long fingernails,
"Always!" Kim got off the bed and donned her red silk kimono and went to the door and
dialed the combination to the padlock and removed it from the hasp. Holding the door
open she said, "I think you should go now." Jake stumbled off the bed and quickly
pulled on his clothes, tripping and falling several times as he did. Kim stood against the
doorjamb and Jake warily began to ease past her, but she stepped forward and pressed
him against the opposite jamb. The pressure of her warm body against him made his
scratched body throb and burn even worse. "Arent you going to kiss me goodnight?"
she asked. Nearly about to pass out from pain, Jake relented and embraced her. Kim
gave him a long, slow, tender kiss that made him dizzy. She rubbed her knee into his
crotch and her toes crept past his shoes and tugged his sock down, then gently she stroked
his calf with her sharp toenails. He could feel himself growing hard despite his pain and
the desire to flee. Jake felt her undo his belt and slip her hand down into his briefs. The
first touch of her nails on his cock sent shock waves throughout his entire body. Kim
pressed him hard against the doorjamb, and after only a few strokes of her long oval-
tipped fingernails, Jake came with explosive force, like nothing hed ever experienced
before in his life. His knees buckled and he nearly blacked out, but Kim held him
upright. "So, are you going to ask me out again?" she whispered, giving his dick a
squeeze with her extremely-sharp fingernails. Jake was silent for a moment, and she
gave his dick another, harder squeeze with her nails. "Well?" she said impatiently. "C-
can I s-see you again?" Jake asked quickly. "Im free tomorrow night," she said with a
sweet smile, releasing his dick from the grip of her nails and running her hands up his
front and touching his neck with her fingers. "I can be here at eight," Jake offered
timidly. Kim smiled and tossed her mop of short dark hair. "Dont be late," she
whispered. And she gave him a quick, hard scratch.
-
Fortuity
Fortuity…by Jerome Arden Gillespie
Michael awoke at sunrise after a fitful night. He had arrived alone the evening before at
the private tropical island resort where he had planned to share a three-week vacation
with his fiancIe, Donna, an ambitious attorney on a partnership track at a prestigious
New York law firm. At the last minute a crisis had arisen at work and she couldnt leave.
It wasnt the first time shed chosen her career over him. Nor the second, or third. The
tickets were non-refundable, and she had convinced Michael to go by himself with the
promise that she would join him as soon as she could. That was also a promise she had
made before and never kept. The ironic thing was, the getaway had been Donnas idea in
the first place. Michael would have been happy to stay in New York with her.
Lonely and depressed, unable to go back to sleep, Michael decided to take his morning
coffee out on the patio. Gazing off at the ocean and listening to the rhythmic waves, he
spied a woman going for an early-morning run on the deserted beach. It was about forty
feet to the surf, and he couldnt make out her features, just the silhouette of her tall,
athletic body, and her long ponytail swishing as she ran. He watched her until she was
nothing more than a tiny speck far down the beach. Michael uttered a plaintive sigh.
Here he was watching the tropical sun rising majestically with the promise of a new day,
like an offering from the gods, and the only person there to share it with him was a
stranger running quickly by in the distance.
Soon he saw a little speck moving back toward him up the beach, and as it grew closer he
knew it was the same woman returning. The way she moved was unmistakable. Head
held high with the poise of a ballerina, long legs prancing with the power of an
Olympian, slender arms and long ponytail moving in time with her stride. She evoked in
Michael the image of a cheetah, so fast and yet effortlessly graceful. Suddenly she turned
her head and looked in his direction even as she continued running. He wasnt certain
she was actually looking at him, but just then she waved. Had she looked up and spied
him coincidentally, or had she sensed someone watching her? Michael flushed with
embarrassment at having attracted her attention, and he gave a quick little wave in return.
She turned her head forward and continued running, and Michael felt somewhat relieved,
although remembering again his loneliness. He downed the last drop of lukewarm coffee
and shuffled back inside the cabin, to the king-sized bed with the sheets rumpled from his
restless night. He daydreamed about his fiancIe Donna, imagining her waiting for him
in bed. He pictured her hair, usually done up in a tight bun, now let down long and
flowing. He imagined her slender body halfway-covered with the silk sheet and her soft,
bare feet peeking out. He daydreamed of Donna smiling and inviting him to join her in
bed. He pictured her hands, beckoning to him. Donna always kept her nails trimmed
very short and never polished them, as she felt appearing, as she put it, "girly", would
hamper her advancement in the law firm. But in Michaels daydream, Donnas nails
were long and polished clear and sparkling like glass. After all, as long as he was
daydreaming of her being there, why not picture her catering to the secret sexual desire
he could never bring himself to reveal?
Michael lay in bed staring up at the thatched ceiling until mid-day, allowing himself to be
mesmerized by the fan turning in lazy circles. There was no television or radio, only the
sound of the distant waves and the occasional call sea-gulls. Far from relaxing, Michael
found himself becoming agitated by the forced solitude, and decided to go have a swim in
the ocean. The beach was now peppered with people, some swimming, some surfing,
some just laying out on towels or lounges. Every so often a waiter in white shorts and
polo shirt would make the rounds taking orders and bringing drinks from the tiki bar.
Michael made a beeline for the surf and waded in. The water was surprisingly cool and
the undertow strong, and after swimming a little while he felt tired and decided to come
ashore and relax on one of the lounges. The fact everyone on the beach seemed to be
couples didnt surprise him given the romantic nature of the island resort, but it did make
him feel quite self-conscious about being there by himself. He spied a woman in a white
cover-up, large sun hat and fashion sunglasses, reclining under a canopy. Her long, dark
hair was damp and tangled as though shed recently been in swimming, and her wet towel
was draped over her legs and feet. Next to her was an empty lounge and, squinting
against the sun in his eyes, Michael asked if it was taken. "Well, I…I guess not," she
said, sounding hesitant. "I promise Im not trying to hit on you," Michael assured her
quickly. "Im sorry, I didnt mean to sound unfriendly," she said. "You didnt," Michael
reassured her. "Yes, I did, and I apologize," she said turning toward him. She lifted her
sunglasses by the temples and placed them above her forehead. Michael felt a rush of
adrenaline and couldnt catch his breath. She was young and absolutely gorgeous, with
sky-blue eyes framed by dark, thick long lashes and meticulously-sculpted brows. But
thats not why Michaels heart was pounding in his ears so loudly it drowned out the
sound of the ocean. The reason was because she had the longest fingernails hed ever
seen. Almost two inches, and all natural. Opaque creamy-white, thick and strong, with
just a hint of graceful curvature, tapering elegantly from very long nail beds on long,
slender fingers. "My name is Adrianna," she said offering him her hand gracefully.
Michael swallowed hard and accepted her hand, struggling to quell his excited trembling.
"Im Michael," he said. "Im very happy to meet you Michael," she said with disarming
sincerity, and wrapped her fingers around his hand. Michael watched her nails closing
against the back of his hand, and at their first touch he felt a tingle shoot up his arm to his
brain, and suddenly felt himself get hard. In a panic, he squeezed his legs tightly together
forcing his erection behind him, at the same time he quickly lay down on the lounge.
"Youre shivering, Michael," she said with concern. "The water was cold," he lied
quickly between breaths. "I know what you need," she said slipping her hand slowly out
of Michaels, and as she did, her long fingernails brushed him. Michael nearly swooned.
Adrianna offered him a half-full tall glass with a straw. "Rum-and-coke. It cools you
down or warms you up, whichever," she said, tapping her incredibly-long fingernails
against the glass. "Thanks," he responded, twisting awkwardly to take the glass from her,
terrified of accidentally revealing the full-on erection trapped under him between his legs.
Michael took several long pulls on the straw, until he heard gurgling.
"Im so sorry. I seem to have finished your drink. Ill buy you another one," Michael
said with obvious embarrassment. "Ive had two already, I think thats enough for now,"
Adrianna said. "Are you sure?" Michael asked. "Yes, but thank you for offering," she
replied. Michael noted with pleasant surprise that Adrianna was very polite and gracious,
traits he didnt often find in young women. "But perhaps youll buy me that drink
later…perhaps over dinner?" she asked with a warm smile, "The island cafI is quite
charming." "Dinner?" Michael replied, startled. "Oh, Im sorry. I didnt even bother to
ask if you were here with someone," Adrianna said, "I just assumed you were all alone
here, too." "Huh? Oh, well…actually I am alone here, but I do have a fiancIe. She was
supposed to come. Work. You know," Michael shrugged. "Actually, I dont," Adrianna
said forlornly, "Ive got three college degrees and Ive never worked a day in my life.
Isnt that sad?" "Not really. Right about now Id kill for a woman who doesnt have a
career," Michael joked. "Well, I wont make you kill anyone," she replied, resting her
hand warmly on his arm. As his mind wrestled temptation, Michael glanced covertly at
Adriannas incredibly long nails, struggling not to reveal the effect they were having on
him. As though she could read his thoughts, Adrianna smiled and said, "Two people
sharing a table and some conversation isnt cheating on your fiancIe." "Youre right.
Sure, lets do dinner!" he decided, surprised and slightly ashamed how easily he had been
convinced. "Lovely!" Adrianna said, "Is ten too late?" she asked. "Tens fine," Michael
replied smiling. "Im truly looking forward to it," she said with deep sincerity, squeezing
his hand. "The sun is starting to broil, I think perhaps I should head in. Will you excuse
me?" she asked with her impeccable politeness. Her manner reminded Michael of the
glamorous actresses in black-and-white movies from a bygone era, when women were
unashamed of being exquisitely feminine. Adriannas long fingernails trailed softly off
Michaels hand. The enormous erection he was concealing underneath him between his
legs prevented him from moving without embarrassment. "Im going to lay out a little
while longer," he said. "Please be mindful not to get sunburned," she urged. "I
promise," he said. Between her amazing nails and her warm, sincere manner, he felt
intensely attracted to her. "Especially your legs and feet, they burn very easily," she
warned as she pulled her towel up off her legs and began to fold it. Michael cast an
admiring glance at Adriannas long, silky legs, and when he noticed her feet he suddenly
felt another adrenaline rush like he had when hed first seen her hands. Like her fingers,
Adriannas toes were long and slender and straight…with long, strong off-white toenails
that were half again the length of her long nail beds! Like her fingernails, her long
toenails grew perfectly straight, with just the slightest downward curvature. The tips
were straight, but the very corners were subtly rounded-off, making it clear that her
strikingly-long toenails were the result of design, not neglect. Michaels sexual attraction
to long nails had never included toenails---until now. He couldnt take his eyes off of
Adriannas toes, and his erection throbbed beneath his clenched thighs. He watched her
walk away, the two halves of her tight, firm derriere rolling seductively beneath her thin
white cover-up, in perfect harmony with the leisurely placing of her long, shapely legs.
With every step Adrianna took, Michael was becoming less certain about his relationship
with Donna and her all-important career…and her short, businesslike nails.
The islands main cafI restaurant was outdoors, under the star-flecked night sky, with
oriental paper lanterns strung above, and intimate two-person candle-lit tables. Having
found himself bursting with childlike impatience to see Adriannas unbelievably-long
nails again, Michael was already seated when she arrived, resplendent in a long,
burgundy see-through silk halter-top dress. Her back was bare to the waist, and her long
dark hair, now lightly styled, rested in soft, shimmering waves against her flawless skin.
Statuesque in silver strapped sandals with rhinestones and thin, high heels, Adrianna
turned every head as she walked with elegance and grace to their table. "Youre…so
beautiful! So amazing!" Michael blurted, then corrected himself, "Wait, that came out
wrong! Its not amazing that youre beautiful. I meant…um…youre amazingly
beautiful." "Its alright, Michael. I knew what you meant. And thank you," Adrianna
said with unassuming sweetness. She stood there a moment, until it dawned on Michael
she was waiting for him to stand up and pull her chair out for her. "Forgive me, my
manners are a little rusty. My fiancIe would pitch a fit if I held her chair for her, or
opened the car door," Michael said. Adrianna cast him a puzzled look. He clarified,
"She says it represents mens condescension toward women." Adrianna just smiled
politely and thanked him for holding her chair. Michael found it admirable and
refreshing that although she clearly must have disagreed with his fiancIes opinion, she
hadnt felt obligated or compelled to assert her own. Michael cast a covert look down at
Adriannas long toenails, which he found so elegantly sexy in her silver high-heeled
sandals. The click of her two-inch long natural fingernails against the glass table quickly
refocused his attention. Michael barely made it back to his chair in time to hide the hard
bulge that had quickly grown inside his pants.
Michael looked again at Adriannas elegant attire and quickly began buttoning his open
shirt. He said with a little embarrassed laugh, "I feel like a real slob." "Please dont,"
Adrianna said softly. "Well, as long as you dont care," he responded. "I meant,
dont…do that," she said, gently resting her hand on his to keep him from further
buttoning his shirt. Michael blushed. "I dont see the harm in being honest with each
other…that were mutually attracted. Do you?" Adrianna asked, "In fact, I think the
more we try to deny it, the stronger it will become, and the harder to control. Dont you
agree?" "Now that I think about it, I guess youre right," Michael replied. Adrianna
smiled acceptingly. "So, would you like me to unbutton my shirt again?" he joked.
"Would you?" she pleaded. "Well…ok," Michael shrugged, taken aback and feeling a
little self-conscious, but he complied. "Thank you," she said, looking him sweetly in the
eyes.
The waiter appeared to take their drink order. "The usual for you Miss Adrianna?" he
asked. "Yes, thank you Luis," she replied cordially. "And you sir?" Luis asked Michael.
He laughed, "I feel like I should say Vodka Martini, shaken, not stirred." "Very good
sir," Luis answered and disappeared as swiftly as hed come. Michael sighed and
laughed. "I hope youll enjoy your drink, Mr. Bond," Adrianna said with a musical
laugh. "Isnt there a rule you have to wear a tux to drink one of those?" he joked,
sticking his bare leg out to the side of the table. Adrianna laughed. She rubbed her leg
against his softly, and said, "Rules can be maddening, cant they." Michael stared at her
long, perfectly-shaped toenails, and felt his erection mushroom. "Sometimes its worse
to break them," he observed. "Perhaps we can just bend them?" Adrianna suggested
with a sweet smile, posing her two-inch thumbnail and pointer nail slightly apart to
illustrate "a little".
Adrianna fished in her little evening purse and held out a jewel-encrusted gold cigarette
case. Opening it to reveal neat rows of long, thin, black cigarettes, she asked politely,
"Do you mind?" Michael shrugged, "Go right ahead." In truth he despised smoking, but
he was agreeable to anything that would keep her nails in his view. "I only smoke
socially," Adrianna informed, while she plucked a long, thin, black cigarette with her
very long thumbnail and pointer. She held the cigarette between her fingers up to her lips
and leaned forward. Michael patted his pockets although he knew he didnt have
matches, then he shrugged. He saw the reflection of the candle flicker in her sky-blue
eyes, and he smiled and held the flame up to the tip of her cigarette. Adrianna took a
long drag and softly blew the smoke upward, holding the thin black cigarette between her
fingers gracefully. Michael did notice her glossy pink lips, and the soft shadows of her
cheeks when she took another drag, but his gaze didnt stray for more than a second from
her ten very long, immaculate creamy-white fingernails, so exquisitely elegant with their
tapered tips and barely-perceptible curvature. He had only ever seen nails like
Adriannas in his erotic dreams, and felt as though he was about to ejaculate involuntarily
any second. Fortunately, the waiter returned with their drinks, and Adrianna snuffed her
cigarette and placed her hands in her lap for a moment…just long enough for Michael to
come back from the brink and regain his composure. "To…togetherness," Michael
toasted, hoisting his martini. "The perfect antidote for loneliness," Adrianna affirmed
warmly, clinking her glass to his. Her drink in one hand, Adrianna rested her other on
Michaels arm, grazing lightly with her long fingernails. Michaels heart began to thump
like a drum. "Have you ever had sex on the beach?" she asked. "What?!" Michael
exclaimed. Visions of Donnas scowling face flashed before his eyes like a foreboding
apparition. "My drink. Its called Sex On the Beach. Its my favorite. Have you ever
had it?" she asked, then laughed, "Oh my gosh Michael! Did you think I was
propositioning you?" Michael blushed, "Well…you kind of took me off-guard." "I like
the beach, and I love sex, but the thought of getting sand in my…in everything…doesnt
appeal to me at all. Im a soft-bed-and-satin-sheets kind of girl," Adrianna said, patting
his arm, "Besides, I would never…could never be the one to proposition a guy."
Michael came to the realization that Adriannas warm, unaffected femininity would be
equally hard for him to resist as her incredibly-long, sexy nails. Maybe even harder. Her
nails intensely aroused his lust, but her charm he could fall in love with. He couldnt
help wondering if perhaps he was already starting to fall for her.
Luis arrived with menus. Michael tried to read, but his eyes kept peering over the top of
his menu at Adriannas creamy-white two-inch long fingernails spread delicately against
her menu as she perused the selections. "They have fresh crab," Michael mused. "No
doubt its heavenly," Adrianna replied, "Thats what Ill have as well. Youll order for
both of us, wont you Michael?" "If you want me to," he answered. She wrinkled her
brow and said, "Naturally." "This is going to sound weird, but you make me feel like the
leading man in one of those romantic movies from the forties," he confessed with a little
laugh. Adriannas face lit up with a beaming smile. She leaned over, rested her hand on
his arm and said, "Thats the loveliest thing any man has ever said to me." Then she gave
him a soft but leisurely kiss on his cheek, very near the corner of his mouth, and as she
leaned back to her chair she let her long nails trail slowly down his arm with a feather-
light touch. Michael clamped his thighs together and gritted his teeth, mustering every
ounce of his willpower to not explode in his shorts. He instantly tried to conjure up the
apparition of Donna scowling…and shocked himself that hed chosen his fiancIes image
to quell his sexual desire. He was certain now that he was falling for Adrianna, and
whats more, he was no longer sure he wanted to resist. Michael drank in Adriannas
beauty…her expressive sky-blue eyes, the dark lashes and brows…her small, aristocratic
nose and luscious full lips. She had flawless alabaster skin and a long, delicate neck,
everything framed in lush, soft waves of shimmering long dark hair. Nestled inside her
burgundy halter-top, her breasts were like twin peaks, high and firm although she was
bra-less, with just a hint of nipple beneath the sheer fabric. But inevitably his eyes
traveled back down her soft, slender arms to those ten creamy-white two-inch long
fingernails that got him and kept him rock-hard. While they waited for their dinner,
Adrianna withdrew another cigarette from her jewel-encrusted gold case, and as she
leaned forward for Michael to light it, he heard a little plop, and she gave a pained sigh.
"I dropped my purse! Michael, would you be a darling?" she implored him. He ducked
under the table, and couldnt help himself from contemplating her immaculate long
toenails. Adrianna spread and flexed her toes gracefully in her silver, rhinestone-studded
strapped high-heeled sandals, and he heard her laugh softly, "Did you find something
interesting down there, Michael?" Realizing hed been under the table far too long,
Michael emerged red-faced, and handed her her little evening purse.
Luis brought their entrees, large oval English bone-china plates with large crabs arranged
artfully on a bed of dark green lettuce leaves and garnished with a freshly-cut half a lime
wrapped in green silk tied with a green ribbon. An assistant waiter stepped up at Luis
nod, carrying a bottle of champagne nested in a sterling-silver ice-bucket, and two crystal
champagne flutes. "I took the liberty, Miss Adrianna," Luis said, bowing his head
slightly. "Thank you, Luis, that was so lovely of you," she said with her genuine warmth
that Michael found so refreshing and attractive. Luis peeled the foil from the champagne
bottle and popped the cork with the ease and expertise of having done it uncountable
times, and he poured the glasses three-fourths full. "If theres anything else you need,
Miss Adrianna, I am at your service as always," Luis said. "Thank you, Luis.
Everything is wonderful, as always," she said with a kind smile. "The staff certainly
seems to know you and your tastes," Michael remarked with a note of curiosity, "Have
you come here often?" "No, just once…but so far I havent left," she replied. "A true
lady of leisure," he suggested with a grin. "Lately, of boredom," she sighed. "So tell
me," Michael asked, making conversation, "Youre incredibly beautiful and smart, and
unbelievably warm and charming…how is it youre single?" Adrianna looked at him and
paused for a deep breath. "My husband left me a year ago," she said somberly. Michael
blushed. "Im sorry. I didnt mean to pry," he apologized. "I committed an unrepentable
and unpardonable sin," she continued, looking Michael intently in the eyes. He
swallowed hard, unable to imagine her capable of that. "Yes. I turned thirty," Adrianna
concluded with a deep sigh. Michael reached out and held her hands. "He was a fool!"
Michael asserted. "Regardless, it hurt," she said, "It still hurts." He wanted to embrace
her. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her. "Youre the first man Ive been out
with since the divorce," Adrianna informed him, gracefully brushing back a softly-waved
lock of dark hair with the creamy-white two-inch nail of her ring finger, "And, youve
got a fiancIe. No chance for romance. I must subconsciously be playing it safe."
"Funny, I dont feel very safe," Michael said, his gaze transfixed on her ten incredibly-
long, sexy nails sparkling in the candle-light. "How safe do you want to be, Michael?"
she asked, daintily wiping each of her unbelievably-long fingernails with the linen
napkin. "Im not sure anymore," he admitted. "Do you want my claws?" Adrianna
asked. Michael turned beet red. "Wh-what?!" he gasped. "Take them. Its way too
much for me to eat," she said pointing a long nail at the crab pincers on her plate. "Oh,
sure, thanks," he said, sounding greatly relieved.
The piped-in background music suddenly stopped, and a three-piece ensemble of guitar,
bass and steel drum began to play. "Would you like to dance?" Michael asked Adrianna.
"Id love to," she replied graciously. Michael rose to his feet and held out his hand,
which she took with daintiness, and they walked to the small parquet dance floor. In her
heels, they stood eye-to-eye, and for a few moments they kept a polite distance as they
slow-danced, but the swaying Calypso rhythm and the plink of the steel drum filling the
night air with romance was intoxicating, and soon Michaels hands found their way to the
small of Adriannas bare back, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, and they
danced touching from shoulder to hips. "Im a little rusty," Michael confessed. "Youre
a marvelous dancer," she assured him warmly. "Ill try not to step on your toes," he
joked, as an excuse to look down and gaze at her meticulously shaped and immaculate
long toenails peeking out from her glittery silver high-heeled strapped sandals. "Thank
you. Im particularly fearful of having my toes stepped-on," Adrianna whispered, resting
her cheek against his. She began to stroke the back of his neck leisurely with her long
thumbnails. Michaels erection quickly bulged in his shorts and pressed against her, and
he cleared his throat apologetically and stepped back a couple inches. Without saying
anything, Adrianna let her hands drift down his back…he could feel her nails though his
shirt…pressing him tightly against her. Then moved her hands and nails slowly up his
back again and resumed stroking his neck with her thumbnails, as she swayed her hips to
the music, rubbing herself against his erection.
Michael turned his face slowly toward hers, and she toward him in return. Their lips
brushed softly in passing. Just then the music stopped, and Adrianna left a little kiss at
the corner of his mouth. "Tonight was lovely, Michael," she said almost in a whisper,
and gave his cheek a gentle stroke with the tips of her incredibly-long nails as she backed
away. "Youre not leaving?" Michael asked with child-like disappointment. "Im a very
early riser. Im afraid Im quite exhausted. Will you please forgive me?" she asked.
"Will I see you again?" he asked desperately. "Its a small island," Adrianna replied.
Michael sighed, "I meant, may I see you again?" "Id like that very much," she
responded, combing her long fingernails through her voluminous dark hair. "May I at
least walk you back to your cabin?" he asked. "I think we both know what will happen if
we do that, Michael. I cant be…I wont be just someone you slept with because you
were lonely and resentful your fiancIe puts her work before your relationship. Im
beyond expecting Prince Charming and promises of forever, but if we do sleep together,
it has to be more than just a fling," Adrianna said. "Youre right, and I agree," Michael
sighed, then he asked hopefully, "How about hanging-out tomorrow…getting to know
each other better? Taking it slow?" "That sounds lovely, Michael. It sounds wonderful,"
she said, smiled, and traced a two-inch long fingernail gently down the center of his bare
chest before turning away. As she began to walk away slowly, Adrianna turned her head
back to Michael, blew him a kiss, and gave him a cute little wave. He watched her long
fingernails sparkle as they reflected the flickering candlelight, and felt a brisk tingle of
excitement race through his body, like electricity. As Michael strolled back to his cabin,
with every step his longing for Adrianna grew stronger.
Michael flopped on his bed, on his back, his eyes closed. He let the soft sea-breeze
caress him through the open doorwall and listened to the muted sound of the waves
lapping along the beach. It was the sort of sensory massage that ought to have lulled him
quickly to sleep, but his brain was buzzing with clips and sound-bites. Images of his
fiancIe alternated with visions of Adrianna. Donnas assertiveness, Adriannas
unassuming warmth. Donnas hyperactive intensity, Adriannas calm sweetness.
Donnas businesslike reserve, Adriannas feminine allure. Donnas unadorned, almost
manly hands…Adriannas slender, tapered two-inch long creamy-white natural
fingernails, and unusually-long but outrageously sexy toenails. As though it had a mind
of its own, Michaels right hand found its way into his shorts and closed around his
throbbing erection. The images of Donna vanished, replaced by a kaleidoscope of
Ariannas face and nails. But try as he did, he couldnt bring himself to ejaculate. His
erection began to soften, exhaustion overcame him, and he turned on his side and dozed
off.
It was an even more fitful night than the previous. Michael awoke every hour or so,
looked at the clock, and then dozed off again. The last time he looked, it was four in the
morning, and from then on he tossed and turned but never fell back to sleep. He could
see the sky beginning to lighten, and put a pillow over his eyes, but it was no use. Finally
at around five-thirty, he got up, made himself a cup of coffee, and took it out on the patio
as he had done the day before. Again, as the sun began to rise above the ocean, Michael
spied a little speck moving up the beach. As it approached, he recognized the graceful
stride. A little closer, and he could see her long ponytail swishing from side to side. As
the runner passed along the surf, like yesterday she turned and waved. Half-heartedly,
Michael waved back. But this time the woman stopped suddenly, and motioned for him.
Michael pretended not to comprehend the gesture, and simply waved, but she motioned
more urgently. Michael set his coffee on the glass patio table, kicked off his flip-flops,
and shuffled down the sandy slope. As he neared, he saw it was Adrianna. "That was
you yesterday!" he observed with surprise. "I run on the beach every morning at
sunrise," she said. "Im sorry I interrupted your run," he apologized. "You didnt," she
said with a sweet smile. Adrianna held her hand out to him. "Will you come swim with
me?" she asked. "I have to go get my trunks," he said glancing down at his baggy silk
pajama bottoms. "Why?" she asked, while in a graceful motion she pulled her sports bra
up and off and then with equal grace, bending demurely at the knees with her legs
together, stepped out of her shorts. She stood holding one hand over her full, firm
breasts, and the other covering her mound. Her long fingers were spread evenly, her
creamy-white two-inch natural fingernails seemed to glow in the sunrise. Michael gaped.
He gasped. He could hear his heartbeat fluttering wildly in his ears. Her body was
absolutely perfect. The essence of feminine symmetry. Adrianna had the kind of body
men never see except in wet-dreams. "Come! The water is lovely this time of morning.
A sunrise swim is very invigorating," she encouraged. Michael paused with momentary
indecision, but Adriannas zest was infectious. "What the hell," he chuckled, stepping
awkwardly out of his pajama bottoms and leaving them in a heap in the sand. He
stumbled after her, holding both hands over his crotch. Adrianna approached him and
slipped her hand under his arm. Michael felt the touch of her nails and instantly got an
erection. "Sorry," he blushed. She coaxed his hands away from it and said, "Dont be. I
consider it a grand compliment."
When they finished their swim, Adrianna preceded Michael out of the ocean, and he
watched her from behind, admiring the supple poetry of her body as she walked. She
gathered-up her shorts and sports bra and his silk pajama bottoms, and waited for him to
catch up. "You dont mind if I use your shower, Michael?" she asked. "Go right ahead,"
Adrianna came close to Michael, slipped one hand under his arm and the other on top,
and held on warmly as they walked slowly toward the cabin. Michael felt surprised that
he felt perfectly at-ease being naked with her. A thought of Donna crossed his mind, but
only for a fleeting instant before vanishing at the sight and touch of Adriannas
incredibly-long fingernails.
Adrianna turned on the water and stepped into the outdoor shower…three stone walls
with four large shower heads, two on each side, high and low, it provided an experience
akin to standing amidst a gentle, warm waterfall. "Ill go make us some fresh coffee,"
Michael offered. Adrianna held her hand out to him. He hesitated. "Nothing will
happen unless you make it happen," she said with reassurance, and Michael found
himself under the shower with her. She handed him a large, natural sponge. "Wont you
please do my back, Michael?" she asked sweetly. Gently he moved her long hair aside
and began to soap her. He gazed at her flawless skin, at the form and shadows of her
shoulder blades, the subtle relief of her spine in the small of her back. Adrianna leaned
against Michael and lifted first one foot and then the other, wiggling her slender toes with
long, creamy-white toenails slowly under the shower stream. "The sand gets under
them," she remarked. Michael fought the stirrings of an erection, and he turned his back
to her. Adrianna began to wash him with the soapy sponge. "You have a strong back,"
she said stroking it with the tips of her two-inch fingernails. Adrianna reached around his
chest with the sponge and began to brush it slowly downward. Michael held her wrist.
"Whats wrong?" she asked peering over his shoulder. "Michael, I told you before not to
be embarrassed. You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of," she said calmly. "Ive
got a fiancIe and Im in the shower naked with another woman. You dont think thats
something I should be ashamed of?" he asked. "Do you think your fiancIe is
ashamed…of choosing her work over you?" Adrianna asked. "Probably not," Michael
replied. Adrianna put a finger under his chin and turned his face to her, and she raised
her eyebrows. "Ok, definitely she isnt ashamed of it. Not this time, not all the other
times," he said with a deep sigh. "I apologize, Michael. It was mean of me to bring it
up," she said, "Its just that…even though weve only known each other a day, I find
myself…caring about you…deeply." Adrianna lowered her eyes with shyness, and
Michael brushed the strands of wet hair from her cheeks. He lifted her chin and they
looked into each others eyes. Michael tilted his face. Adrianna parted her lips and
slipped her arms around him, and he felt the tips of all ten of her long fingernails on his
back, pressing him closer. Suddenly they both felt his erection touch her mound, and
they hesitated. Adrianna brushed his lips softly with her nails. "Are you sure this is what
you want, Michael?" she whispered, "You know it cant ever be un-done." "Dont you
want it?" Michael asked. "Of course I do, I want it very much," she replied, "But Id die
if you resented me afterward." "I wouldnt," he assured her. Adrianna bit her lip and
took a deep breath. "And, I think Id die if you went back to her," she said solemnly,
searching his eyes. "I dont know what to say," he admitted helplessly. Adrianna stroked
her fingernails off his lips and across his cheek, and then she embraced him, laid her head
in his neck. "When youre sure, youll know what to say, " Adrianna said softly, "And
when you do, dont worry, Ill say it back to you." Michael squeezed her tight, and they
held each other silently for a long time. Finally Adrianna stepped back, smiled warmly,
and took his hands in hers. "Im hungry. Are you?" she asked. Michael looked down at
the droplets of water beading-up and trickling off her long, creamy-white fingernails. His
eyes traveled to the ground, gazing at her feet, the water splashing on the tile and dancing
off her long, creamy-white toenails. "Im starving!" he replied.
Michael stepped into a pair of shorts, and Adrianna slipped on a terrycloth robe that was
hanging on a peg outside the shower. Although he had felt very anxious all the time
Adrianna had been naked, Michael now found himself depressed now that she was about
to cover herself up. As she began to tie up the belt, she noticed him watching her, and
she smiled and let the ends fall from her hands, leaving the robe open. "I dont really feel
like going back to my cabin and getting dressed…Michael? Would you mind if we
ordered-in?" she asked. "Sounds good to me," he replied, "What would you like?" "I
like everything…if you order a couple things you like, we can share," she said brightly.
Michael smiled as he picked up the phone. She was so refreshingly unlike Donna, whom
he teasingly called Primadonna whenever the subject of food came up. Adrianna
stretched out leisurely on the bed. "Oh, Michael?" she called. "Yes?" he responded,
putting his hand over the phone. "Would you please ask them for some olive oil?" she
asked. "I wasnt going to order anything youd want to put it on," he answered. "I just
need some," she said with a smile. Michael shrugged. "…And some olive oil," he said
into the phone.
It took only a few minutes for the food to arrive, and Michael called to Adrianna to come
out to the patio. Michael separated the two halves of a large club sandwich and handed
one to her. She took the lid off a large bowl and when she saw what was inside, he gave
Michael sort of a funny look. "How did you know I love vichyssoise?" she asked with a
wide-eyed smile. "You said to get what I like," he replied, "I didnt think anybody else
in the world liked cold potato soup but me." "Ah, so you were hoping to eat it all, huh?"
she joked, "I should hog it all for myself, just to teach you a lesson." Adrianna took a
spoonful and licked her lips. "Yum!" she said. "Aw, please can I have some?" Michael
begged jokingly. She pretended to think it over, then smiled and picked up a spoonful,
cupping her other hand underneath as she brought it toward Michaels mouth. "Ive
never had someone feed me…well, not since I was a baby," he laughed. "Your fiancIe
never feeds you?" she asked with surprise. "Nope," he shrugged. "Its very romantic,"
Adrianna remarked. "Shed think it was demeaning," he muttered. "I dont understand,
Michael," she said, "If youre not happy, why have you stayed in the relationship?" "I
thought I was happy…or, at least as not-unhappy as one can be in a relationship," he
responded. Adrianna brought another spoonful of cold soup two-handed to his lips, and
he stared mesmerized by the incredible length and symmetry of her natural fingernails.
"So, what made you suddenly realize you were unhappy?" she asked as she put the spoon
into his mouth. Michael smiled into her eyes. Adrianna smiled back sweetly.
Adrianna sat back in the patio chair and folded her legs under her, then she slipped her
arms out of the robe and shrugged it over the back of the chair. Michael couldnt help
but glance at her perfect, firm breasts. It continued to surprise him how unabashed she
was about nudity, given that she held some very traditional views on women and
relationships. But he realized that the seeming contradiction lent her a mystique which
made her even more exciting. Adrianna poured a little olive oil on a plate, dipped her
fingertips in it and began to massage it into the nails on her opposite hand. Slowly, one
by one, all along their tapered, subtly-curved length, from the cuticles to the tips, and
underneath her nails as well. "So, what would you like to do the rest of the day?"
Michael asked, trying unsuccessfully to will himself not to watch what she was doing.
He hoped whatever she answered didnt involve him getting up from his chair any time
soon, as his shorts could barely contain his erection. "Whatever youd like, Michael, as
long as I can spend it with you," Adrianna replied sincerely, continuing to sensually
massage olive oil into her two-inch long natural fingernails. "Shall we get going?" he
asked hopefully. "This will take me about an hour, Im afraid. But I have to. The sea
water is murder on them," she said splaying her fingers gracefully, moving them slowly
as though contemplating each extraordinary long fingernail. Michael coughed a quick,
"Ok." Adrianna propped her feet on the table in front of him and, wiggling her toes, said
sweetly, "It would only take half as long if you do these for me."
Michaels heartbeat thundered in his ears like the sound of stampeding horses.
Adriannas soles were pink and fleshy, and her toes were slender and straight with her
long toenails poised above them, like a row of angels with translucent halos. Michaels
erection wanted to tear through his shorts, and he tried valiantly to maintain a look of
composure. "Michael, I didnt even bother to ask you if you minded touching my feet.
Does it?" Adrianna asked contritely. "No. Not at all," he said glibly, hoping she
wouldnt realize how turned-on he was. She sighed softly, "Well…ok, as long as you
dont mind," and as she poured olive oil into another saucer, she drew back one foot and
slid it toward him with her toes. Michael dabbed his trembling fingertips into the olive
oil, and grasped her feet lightly, with his thumbs against the underside of her toes. The
moment his fingers felt the smoothness of her toenails, he had to clamp his legs together
and bite his tongue to stop himself from climaxing. Adrianna toes were long almost like
fingers, and she curled them around and gripped his thumbs. Michael giggled in a high-
pitch, like a child, and she laughed. Michael glanced up at her anxiously and
embarrassed, but she was calmly focused on massaging oil into her unbelievably-long
fingernails. Michael felt it was safe to take a long stare at her long toenails. As he
massaged oil into them, he marveled at how remarkably inflexible and strong they were,
and imagined her two-inch fingernails must be also. Adrianna gave his thumbs a little
more of a squeeze and he glanced up. She was smiling. At first he feared she had been
watching him staring and practically drooling over her toenails. But hers wasnt a
mocking smile, or even a curious smile. Her smile was like the sun bursting over the
ocean at dawn. "This might sound stupid, so please dont laugh," Adrianna warned. "I
wont, I promise," Michael assured her. Compared to keeping himself from ejaculating
in his shorts, stifling a laugh wouldnt be difficult. Adrianna fluttered her thick
eyelashes shyly, and softly said, "I feel a deep sense of…intimacy…having my feet
touched by a man," she said. Michael drew a deep breath and forced a weak smile. "It
did sound stupid, didnt it," she sighed apologetically. Vehemently Michael shook his
head no as he gazed back at her long, meticulously-shaped toenails glistening with oil,
and felt their strong smoothness with his fingers. "My ex-husband absolutely detested
touching my feet," she sighed. "He was a fool!" Michael exhorted in one quick breath.
Adrianna smiled warmly, and gave his thumbs a tight squeeze with her long, slender toes.
"I think Im done," Michael said triumphantly, letting go of Adriannas feet, and happy
that hed been successful in restraining himself from ejaculating. Adrianna spread her
toes and looked them over. "Lovely, Michael, thank you so much," she said sweetly, and
gave his arm a soft, gentle caress with her toes. In passing, she curled her toes subtly,
and he felt her long toenails track along his skin. Once again his erection threatened to
explode at any second. "So shall we go?" he asked hopefully. "The mid-day sun is so
hot…I usually stay in and take nap for an hour or two," she said as she arose from her
chair and slipped into her robe. "Oh. Alright. That sounds good, actually. I didnt
sleep much last night," Michael agreed, "Maybe we can meet for dinner?" "You want
me to leave, Michael?" she asked with quiet hurt. "Huh? No, I…I just thought you
meant…that you wanted to…," he stuttered, then took a deep breath and said, "You mean
the two of us take a nap…together?" "Only if you want to, Michael," Adrianna said.
"Just a nap," he clarified. "Yes, of course!" she replied, "Do you think Im some sort of
evil, terrible seductress?" "Definitely not," Michael replied, "Im sure youre an
excellent seductress." Adriannas lilting laughter filled the tropical air. "Oh my gosh,
Michael, that was absolutely charming! No one has made me laugh like that in a long
while," she sighed cheerfully, and gave his lips a light kiss. "Oh! Im sorry!" she
gasped, lowered her eyes and said quietly, "I shouldnt have done that. Perhaps I should
leave after all." "No, dont," Michael said reassuringly with a hand on her shoulder.
Adrianna put her hand on his hand. "Only if youre sure it will be alright," she said
sincerely. "It will be fine," he assured her. She smiled her sweet, warm smile and held
Michaels hand as he lay down on the bed on his back. Then Adrianna walked around to
the other side, let her robe fall to the floor, and gracefully lay down next to him. Michael
couldnt help glance at her out of the corner of his eye. She looked like an angel, her soft
white skin, the gentle curves of her tall, slender body. Her firm breasts seemed
impervious to gravity, rising and falling like twin peaks with each her breath. Feet
together, hands at her sides, Adriannas long, creamy-white nails called relentlessly to
Michaels secret obsession, held his eyes from closing, kept him from sleep. He sighed
deeply, and stared down at the large tent in his shorts, torn between conscience and
desire. He had never met any woman who made him feel the way Adrianna did, a
woman who completely and exquisitely embodied everything he longed for in a woman.
Including the one thing that he had been certain would forever remain only a fantasy:
incredibly long real, natural nails. And, Michael knew she would not reject him, or even
try to dissuade him. She had as much as said so.
Michael looked away from his tented shorts and glanced at Adrianna, lying so serenely
mere inches from him with her eyes closed. Somehow she found his hand and held it
tenderly. "Whats wrong, Michael?" she asked, turning toward him on her side.
Adrianna rested her head on his shoulder. "You can tell me," she said. There was
something reassuring in her voice that made him want to spill his soul. Michael took in a
deep breath. "I…," he started, but then he hesitated. "Nothing. Theres nothing wrong,"
he sighed. Adrianna traced her two-inch forefinger nail slowly and lightly around the
border of his lips. "You can tell me anything," she whispered. "Really, everything is
fine," he said forcing a cheerful smile. "Alright," she said, and left a gentle kiss on his
collarbone. Michael closed his eyes. He felt the heat of her body against his, and the
cool tropical breeze wafting over him. Yet sleep would not come. He could only keep
his eyes closed for seconds at a time, and then he had to open them and look again at
Adrianna. It was as though his mind needed constant reassurance that she was real, and
not a figment of his fantasy. She opened her sky-blue eyes and smiled. "Im sorry, did I
wake you?" Michael asked. "I was just resting, Michael," she assured him. "I know you
want to sleep," he apologized. "The only thing I want is to be close to you," she said,
with that genuine sweetness that made him feel like he was floating on a cloud.
Adrianna stroked his cheek affectionately with the tips of her amazing fingernails, and
Michael held his breath against the rush of sexual arousal. She rested her leg on top of
his, and her knee brushed the bulge in his shorts. He felt her long toenails on his shin.
His heart pounded, his breathing was ragged. "I…need some air!" he gasped, starting to
get up. Adrianna held his arm and whispered, "Its ok, Michael. Its just a fetish."
Michael turned purple and began to gasp and cough and he turned his face away from
her. "Michael?" she asked, "Whats wrong?" He turned toward her for a moment with a
pitiful look, and quickly turned away again. "How long have you known?" he enquired.
Adrianna laughed, "Everyone who meets me for the first time mentions my nails right
away. Usually they ask me if theyre real, and then how long it took me to grow them.
You stared at them, but never said a word." Michael sighed deeply. "Theres no reason to
be embarrassed," she said. Michael turned around toward her again, this time with
disbelief on his face. "Oh, yeah, right. No reason to be embarrassed that you think Im a
freak and a pervert!" he exclaimed. "Oh, Michael! My darling, wonderful Michael. I
dont think youre a freak, or a pervert. I think youre a charming, wonderful man."
"Seriously? I dont disgust you?" he asked. "Would I be lying in bed naked with you?"
she asked. Michael turned over slowly. Adrianna smiled at him, and she brushed his
hair with her hand. "Would you like to feel them?" she asked, offering him her hands.
Seeing that he hesitated, she turned his palms up and rested her hands on them. "Please,"
she said softly. "You want to see what a nut-job I am?" he joked. "I want to make you
happy," she replied. "You do," Michael said grasping her hands warmly. Adrianna
smiled, and pressed her nails into his palms. Michael inhaled quickly and felt his
erection spring to life. He searched Adriannas sky-blue eyes, and she smiled and
nodded. Slowly, gently, Michael began to slide his thumbs along her two-inch
fingernails. At first, just the back. Then along the sides…around the tips…underneath.
A little quicker. Back, sides, tips, underneath. Smooth, sharp, curved. Adrianna pressed
her thumbs against his hands and lifted them to his face…slipped her hands from his and
with one she began to softly scratch his cheek and with the other she teased his lips apart
with her nails and slid them inside along his tongue. Michael closed his eyes and sighed
out loud. He began to suck the length of her fingernails, his tongue slowly exploring
their taste and texture. Smooth, sharp, curved…long. So incredibly long. "Thank you,"
he whispered, holding Adriannas hands against his face, giddy from the freedom of
finally letting his secret out, of letting his fetish run free…free from the fear of being
judged, of being humiliated.
"Your fiancIe doesnt know?" Adrianna asked. Michael shook his head. She rested her
head on his shoulder. "She doesnt have long nails," Adrianna surmised. "Not even a
sliver," Michael sighed. "Youve never asked her to grow them?" she asked. "Ive
hinted around at it. Shes just not into it. Thinks she wont be taken seriously as a
professional. She gets fakes once in a while for special occasions. I make-do," he
shrugged. Adrianna put the tips of her long fingernails under Michaels chin and gently
turned his face to her sky-blue eyes. "Life is too short to make-do, Michael," she said,
stroking her little-finger nail along his jaw line, "And you dont need to." Michael
swallowed hard. He felt paralyzed, captured by her gaze and tingling from the sensation
of her nails. He watched her eyelids begin to close dreamily, as their faces seemed to just
drift toward one another. Michael trembled. He felt Adriannas long thumbnail between
his lips, brushing them from side to side, parting them. Her lips were parted, and she
licked them once, leaving them wet and glistening. Her first kiss was fleeting,
tantalizing. Then two more light kisses, one at each corner of his mouth left Michael
shaking. As their lips met again, Adrianna took his face between her hands and stroked
both cheeks with her nails. With sudden abandon, Michael embraced her naked warmth
in his arms and kissed her deeply and passionately. Adrianna ran her fingers through his
hair and gently stroked the back of his head with her nails. At the same time, she ran her
other hand down the middle of his back, pressing with her nails, and then back up and
across his shoulder blades, and then down again to the small of his back. She brought her
other hand all the way around his head and stroked his temple and his cheek with the tips
of her two-inch long fingernails, all the while their kiss continued to grow deeper and
more animated. Michael felt Adriannas hand disappear from the small of his back, and
the next thing he knew he felt her fingernails burrow into his shorts. His erection sprang
free, and Adrianna lightly raked his balls with her fingernails. He was about to ejaculate,
and he reached down to grab her hand, to stop her, or at least slow her. Before he could,
Adrianna caressed and stroked his shaft with her warm, baby-soft fingers…once, twice.
On the third stroke she used the tips of her long fingernails. Their tongues still deep
inside each others mouths, Adrianna emitted a gleeful cry as Michaels cock undulated
rapidly in her hand, and hot, wet, stickiness enveloped her fingers. Michael emerged
from the kiss, breathing hard. "Sorry," he said, barely able to manage more than a
whisper. "Why, Michael?" Adrianna asked sincerely, "You needed it." "Well…yes,
but…," he panted with closed eyes, "I dont usually…I mean, I can usually last." "Why
do men worry so much about that?" she asked. "You know. Because women need time,"
he started. "Not if were aroused enough. Not me, anyway," she laughed. Michael
smiled. He couldnt imagine any woman could be that perfect. Adrianna looked at her
hand, covered with his semen, and she smiled at him. As though it were icing on a
cupcake, she lapped and licked it off, smacking her lips approvingly. Finally she sucked
the full length of each of her fingernails slowly and deliberately. Seeing Michaels
erection had already returned, she smiled.
"Oh, shit!" Michael cried suddenly. "Michael?" she asked, alarmed. "We…I mean, I
just cheated on my fiancIe!" he exclaimed. Adrianna combed his disheveled hair with
the tips of her long fingernails. "Not if you define cheating as having intercourse," she
said, "And if you define it as having irresistible feelings for someone else, then it was
cheating the moment we met, wasnt it Michael?" He lowered his eyes. "Trying to draw
an arbitrary line somewhere in-between seems foolish, doesnt it?" she asked.
Adriannas reasoning appeared as flawless as her long, creamy-white nails. "You make
me think," he sighed. "I hope I do more than just make you think, Michael," she
whispered, leaving a soft kiss on his Adams apple, then another at the top of his
breastbone, and another a couple inches lower…and lower…and lower…while she
stroked her long fingernails back and forth across his nipples. Adrianna got down on her
knees in front of the bed, leaned forward, and stroked his cock once with the tips of her
fingernails, all the way from bottom to top. Michael clutched at the sheets and gasped,
but to his surprise he didnt explode this time. Adrianna smiled at him. She wrapped her
right hand around his cock, and gave it a slow lick all around the rim, followed by
another smile at him. She put her lips to the underside of the head and gave it a noisy
kiss. Then another. Then she circled her lips over the entire head and gave it a slow,
powerful suck, and then another noisy kiss. She smiled at him again and reached up with
her left hand and dragged her nails lightly over his stomach and then around his cock and
underneath. Gently she fondled and raked his balls with her nails, and slowly jerked him
with her other hand. Michael focused on the underside of her two-inch thumbnail as her
hand went up and down, entrancing him like a hypnotists pocket watch. Again she
licked the rim of his cock and then gave the head a sloppy kiss followed by a powerful
suck and another lick and a long, tender kiss. "Do you like my technique, Michael?"
Adrianna asked with genuine interest. "Are you kidding?! You give the best head Ive
ever gotten in my life!" "You inspire me," she said with a sweet smile of modesty and a
toss of her long, dark hair.
Moving with the sinewy grace of a panther, Adrianna crawled back up on the bed and
wrapped one hand around his cock, and with the other hand she began to stroke the edge
of her two-inch thumbnail slowly back and forth across his peehole. The sensation was
so intensely erotic it made Michael inhale sharply and with a little cry. "Do you
remember I said I enjoyed the intimacy of having a man touch my feet, Michael?" she
asked. "Huh? Oh. Yeah," he said, panting hard from her nail stroking over his peehole.
Adrianna stretched out one leg and rested her heel just under his chin. "Id adore some
more of that intimacy. Would you mind, Michael?" she asked, pointing her foot and
caressing his cheek first with her toes…and then with her long toenails. Michael groaned
with pleasure, and Adrianna smiled. She kept stroking his face with her long toenails,
until Michael couldnt take any more and he grabbed her ankle and buried his nose and
lips into her soft, fleshy sole. One by one he sucked her long finger-like toes all the way
in and out of his mouth, tasting their saltiness with his tongue, and feeling the smoothness
of her long toenails against his palate. With his lips and the tip of his tongue explored
each toenail. The glass-smooth tops, the sharp edges, the concavity underneath. "That
feels so lovely, Michael," she sighed, and she leaned down and took his cock all the way
into her mouth, sucking powerfully, sliding her lips and tongue up and down his shaft
slowly. She held his balls in her long fingernails, and when she felt them tighten she let
his cock slip out of her mouth and took her foot from his grasp. "What are you doing?"
Michael complained. Adrianna reached down to his ankle and ran a single two-inch
fingernail in a long, serpentine path up his leg and asked in a syrupy, sultry, breathy
voice, "Wont you trust me, Michael?" Barely able to breathe let alone speak, Michael
nodded quickly.
Adrianna sat between Michaels legs. Then she placed her feet on either side of his
erection and wiggled her toes. Michael stared at her immaculate creamy-white long
toenails, struggling to contain his lust. Recalling how shed wrapped her finger-like toes
around his thumbs, he was bursting with childlike anticipation. First she raked his thighs
and stomach lightly with her long fingernails, and then she gripped his cock with her
toes. Adrianna smiled at him, and began to knead his erection with her long toes. He
could feel her toenails barely pressing into his rigid shaft, and it was driving him wild.
Every so often Adrianna leaned forward to give his cock head a noisy, sloppy kiss or a
teasing suck. Michaels eyes were riveted. Seeing her incredibly-long nails was already
beyond his imagination. Feeling her fingernails on his skin and her toenails on his cock
was beyond his wildest fantasy. Never had he dreamed that fantasy would come true.
Never could he have imagined pleasure so intense it was nearly unbearable. Never in his
imagination had he contemplated a woman like Adrianna could exist. Lightly she dug
her fingernails into his thighs, and held the base of his cock between the first two toes of
each foot, burrowing in his pubic hair with the rest of her toes and long toenails.
Adrianna bent forward at the waist, her long, dark hair brushing him softly, and took his
cock all the way into and out of her mouth…faster and faster…sucking harder and
harder… Michael grabbed handfuls of the sheets, clenched his toes and gritted his
teeth…trying with all his will to prolong the massively-pleasurable sensations, to let them
build to a monumental crescendo. Adrianna made a gleeful sound in her throat. He
could tell she knew he was fighting to last. He could see the encouragement in her eyes,
that shed made it a playful competition. She pressed her fingernails deeper into his
thighs, kneaded his cock faster with her toes, sucked harder and slurped louder. Deeper,
faster, harder…deeper, faster, harder, until Michael couldnt hold out any more. He shot
again and again, with such force his hips bucked uncontrollably. He expected Adrianna
to lurch backward, but she just kept sucking and swallowing...gradually slowing but not
stopping until his cock was completely soft. And then she licked it clean, making little
delighted cooing sounds, and finished by giving his flaccid cock a tender kiss and
lovingly laying it down. Some of his semen had spilled down onto her toes, and
Adrianna lifted each foot in turn to her mouth and sucked and licked her long, creamy-
white toenails spotlessly clean. "Oh my God!" Michael gasped. "Did I make you happy,
Michael?" she asked sweetly. "Oh my God!" he repeated. Adrianna smiled bashfully.
"You have to do that again soon!" he exclaimed. "Ill never do it again, Michael," she
said. "What?! Say youre joking!" he cried. "Not exactly like that. I think every time
should feel new and exciting, as though it were the first time. Dont you agree?" she
asked. Michael sighed and closed his eyes. He was exhausted, but more than that, he
was satisfied. Truly, totally satisfied. It was the first time in his life any woman had
satisfied him so completely. And they hadnt even had intercourse.
Adrianna encouraged Michael to roll on his side, and she turned her back and spooned
herself into him. He draped his arm over her, and she took his hand, kissed it, and laced
her fingers through his. Michael gazed with fascination at the contrast between his
masculine hand and hers, so utterly feminine, with two-inch tapered, subtly-curved
creamy-white nails. His fiancIe Donnas hands seemed to him essentially just smaller
versions of his own. "I hope it doesnt bother you if I say it out loud, but youve got the
sexiest nails Ive ever seen in my life," Michael said. "Bother me? I adore that you think
so. Ive wanted so long to find someone like you," she said, and with her other hand
began to softly scratch his arm. She felt his cock stir against her, and she spooned herself
tighter into him as he became fully erect. "When did you start growing them?" Michael
asked. "The day my ex-husband left me," she said, "He asked me to cut them when we
first started going out. Looking back, I should have taken it as a sign. But I was young
and innocent and he was older and worldly…rich, handsome, powerful. I didnt realize
how much a part of me my nails had become. I never felt like myself without them."
Adrianna flexed her fingers that were interlaced with his and related, "When I was
thirteen I was painfully shy and self-conscious. I had no close friends, no social life.
One day I decided on a whim to just let my fingernails grow. With nails that were
several inches long, everyone found me interesting and fascinating. Although not always
the way I would have liked. Boys favorite question was how did I wipe my behind."
"That would never have crossed my mind, even at thirteen," Michael said with a tender
kiss on the back of her shoulder. "How young were you when your fetish started?" she
asked. "Seven," Michael answered. "My, you were an early-starter," Adrianna joked,
rubbing her bottom against his erection. "Oh, it wasnt a sexual experience, not in the
grownup sense," he laughed. Then he related, "My best-friend Jimmy lived next door,
and one Sunday in June his parents were having a family barbecue and pool-party.
Jimmys aunt and uncle were visiting…I think they were from Ohio….and they had a ten
year-old daughter named Michelle. The first thing I noticed about her was her pretty
face, but then something pulled my to her hands like they were magnetized. She had
really long nails. I mean, they were super-long, especially for a kid, and not scraggly
either, they were all shaped and filed. I can still remember exactly what they looked like.
Is that bizarre?" "Everyone remembers their first," Adrianna interjected with a little kiss
on his hand. "I guess its true," Michael agreed, "Well, for the rest of the afternoon I
hung around Michelle like a puppy on a leash, unable to take my eyes off her nails.
Finally she bared them at me and said, Quit staring at my nails, you little creep, or else
Ill scratch you!" "And?" Michelle asked. "Thats it," Michael said, "I left. I couldnt
figure out why her nails affected me like that, or why she grew beautiful long nails if she
didnt want people to look at them. Or maybe it was just me she didnt like. I was very
confused, and there wasnt anyone I felt I could trust to talk to about it."
"I know that feeling well," Adrianna said, pressing the back of Michaels hand against
her soft cheek, "The feeling that you cant turn to anyone...that theyd laugh at you or
shun you." "Yes. Thats it. Thats it exactly!" Michael said, "My God, youre amazing.
I cant believe I found you. In fact I can hardly believe you really exist." "Oh I exist,
Michael," she said quietly, placing his hand on her breast, "Im completely real."
Michael felt her nipple harden between his fingers, and he fondled it gently. Adrianna
responded by lightly raking his arm with her long fingernails. She reached back and took
his other hand, lifted her leg, and pressed his fingers against her mound. Michael found
her already dripping wet, and he slid two fingers in deeply and massaged her clit with his
thumb. Almost immediately Adrianna squeezed her legs together capturing his hand,
inhaled three times in rapid succession, and then held her breath and shuddered. Michael
felt it go through him and shake the bed. Adrianna exhaled with a soft, pleasured sigh.
"I told you I dont need much time if Im aroused," she said with a bashful little giggle
and a playful scratch of his arm with her long fingernails. "Adrianna?" Michael asked.
"Yes, Michael?" she answered. "I love you," he said.
Adrianna turned quickly facing him. She took his face between her hands and a joyous
smile erupted across her beautiful face. "And I love you, Michael!" she sighed, stroking
his cheeks with the delicately-tapered tips of her two-inch long creamy-white fingernails.
Their eyes closed, their lips parted and met in a potent, soul-melding kiss. Adrianna put
her knee on top of Michaels thigh and stroked the back of his calf with her long,
immaculately-groomed toenails. She stroked his shoulder with her fingernails, and then
slid her hand around his back and slowly began to scratch, gently, lovingly, sensually,
passionately. Michael kissed her throat and she threw her head back, encouraging him.
"Tell me again. Please, Michael?" she sighed. "Ive never felt like this before, ever," he
declared passionately, "Whatever I thought was love before, it wasnt. This is it, the real
thing. I love you, Adrianna." "I love you so, Michael," she sighed, and they shared
another long, burning kiss. Adrianna held him tightly to her, pressing her fingernails into
his back. "A day ago I thought Id never want to say those words to someone again, and
now I cant stop wanting to say them. I love you, Michael. I love you. I love you." In a
fluid sequence of motions, they rolled over, Adrianna embraced him with her arms and
legs, and lovingly held his cock in her soft hand and guided him into her. Michael felt his
cock slide deep into her heat, and Adrianna felt herself filled with his hardness, and they
sighed and moaned together in harmonious ecstasy. Suddenly Adrianna pulled back and
Michaels cock slipped out of her. "Whats the matter?!" he cried with a gasp. "Oh my
gosh! Do you have a condom, Michael?" she asked breathlessly. "Uhhm…no. This was
supposed to be…I mean, my fiancIe and I were…and shes on the pill," Michael
stammered. "Well, Im not," Adrianna sighed. She looked at him with guilt and
contrition in her beautiful sky-blue eyes. "Im so sorry, Michael," she said burying her
face in his neck. "Do you have anything? Back at your cabin?" he asked hopefully.
Adrianna shook her head. "I wasnt planning on meeting anyone," she said
apologetically. "I dont suppose you know if theres a drugstore on the island?" he
asked. "At the other end, in the main village," she replied. "Cmon, lets go!" Michael
said. "That wont be necessary. Ill phone Anton. Hell take care of it," Adrianna said.
"Whos Anton?" Michael asked. "Hes my con…hes the concierge," she answered.
Michael looked at her strangely, and Adrianna averted his eyes. "You started to say my
concierge," Michael observed. "It just slipped out," she said quietly. "Oh my god, you
own the resort?!" Michael exclaimed with shock. "I didnt have a choice," she said, "It
came with the island." "You own the whole fucking island?!" he cried. "I got it…or
rather, my attorney got it for me in the divorce," she said. "You could have mentioned
it," Michael said. "I didnt think it was important," she replied and touched her nails to
his face, "Is it?" "If you mean, am I sorry the woman I fell in love with just also happens
to be rich enough to own her own island, the answer is no," Michael said with a laugh.
Adrianna sighed with relief and embraced him. " My attorney is trying desperately to
convince me to allow a group of the firms clients to invest with me and develop
exclusive getaway homes for the rich and famous. But Ive got enough money for five
lifetimes and right now Im considering an offer to sell. Im glad you arent angry with
me for not telling you right away," she said scratching his back affectionately with her
incredibly-long fingernails. Michael gazed down her silken-smooth legs to her long,
creamy-white toenails. Adrianna scrunched her toes, and his erection throbbed. Michael
thrust the telephone at her and urged, "I think you should call Anton right now about
some condoms." She accepted the receiver from him, but held the tip of her two-inch
nail against the hang-up button. "Do you really find the idea of making a baby with me
that distasteful, Michael?" she asked. He swallowed hard and replied non-plussed,
"What? No! Of course not! I mean, speaking hypothetically…" "Not speaking
hypothetically, Im almost thirty-two, Michael," she said. "Thirty-two is young. Youve
got plenty of time," Michael argued. "I want children, Michael. I take it you dont. Its
ok, I understand," Adrianna said with a look of profound sadness, handing him back the
phone. "I didnt say I dont want children," Michael protested. "Do you?" she asked
pointedly. Michael held Adriannas hands, and summoning all his willpower forced
himself to look up from her incredible nails and gaze deep into her sky-blue eyes. "My
fiancIe wanted me to get a vasectomy, but I couldnt do it," he replied, "Yes, I do want
kids." Adrianna slid her foot up between his legs and teased his half-erect cock with her
spectacularly-beautiful long toenails. Michael drew a deep breath and hardened instantly.
"Do you really, Michael?" she asked softly, brushing his lips tenderly with hers. "Yes!"
he said emphatically. "With me, Michael? Do you want children with me?" she
whispered, leaving light kisses at the corners of his mouth. "Yes, Adrianna! Only with
you!" he cried breathlessly. "I want lots of children, Michael," she said running her
fingers through his hair and sensually scratching the back of his head with her long
fingernails. "As many as you want," Michael panted, "I love you, Adrianna!" "And I
love you, Michael," she sighed, spreading her hands across his back, pressing with her
nails, bringing him down on top of her as she opened her long legs and guided him once
again to fill her wet heat with his throbbing manhood.
Michael found Adriannas lovemaking beyond his richest and most vivid fantasy…a
thousand times more responsive and pleasing than his fiancIe Donna, or any woman he
had ever been with. Adrianna was somehow all at once tenderly romantic and wildly
passionate, fully-invested in his pleasure but at the same time completely uninhibited
about seeking her own. She had many orgasms, rewarding him for each one with a
passionate rake of her two-inch long fingernails across his back, and a drag of her perfect
long toenails up the back of his legs. Adrianna kissed him with fiery passion and then
whispered, "I love you," as she stroked the sides of his face with her nails, and she
tightened around his cock and brought him to a mind-blowing climax. Satisfied and
spent, they lingered in union with Michael still inside her as he gradually softened. They
gazed at each other, and their eyes said everything. "Do you want to sleep, Michael?"
Adrianna asked in a whisper, lazily scratching her long toenails up and down the side of
his calf. Michael sighed, and Adrianna felt his cock twitch inside her. She pressed her
toenails in at his ankle and dragged them slowly all the way up the back of his leg and
then down the other, feeling Michael grow fully erect inside her again. Adrianna closed
her eyes dreamily and wet her lips in anticipation of a kiss. As their tongues entwined in
a steamy dance of passion, Adrianna wrapped her arms around Michael and raked his
back sensually with her two-inch long fingernails, rolling her exquisitely-curved hips to
meet his thrusts like the ocean waves they could hear in the distance, rhythmically and
relentlessly slapping the shore. Adrianna ascended the ladder of ecstasy numerous times,
and then amidst a tenderly-erotic kiss she grasped Michaels bottom with the tips of her
impeccably-manicured two-inch long fingernails and tightened herself around his cock.
Michaels face reddened and contorted and he shook and bucked as he erupted in an
orgasmic starburst. "You were wonderful, Michael. Did I please you?" she asked very
sincerely. "Oh…My…God!" he choked out gasping for breath. Adrianna smiled at him
and whispered, "I love you." She held him exhausted in her embrace and stroked
Michaels shoulder with her long fingernails. He opened his eyes wide. "Do you know
what that does to me?!" he cried with exasperation. "Of course I do," she said softly. "I
want to but I just cant do anything for you right now," Michael said apologetically. "Of
course you can, darling," she said brightly, and she sat up against the pillows and
gracefully opened her legs. "My ex-husband flatly refused to go down on me," she
sighed dejectedly. Michael looked at her wet, gaping pussy and at the same moment
Adrianna raised her feet to his shoulders and pressed with her long, sexy toenails. As
Michael came forward on his knees, she slipped her feet under his arms and dragged her
toenails down his sides. "Oh, Michael…," she sighed when she felt the tip of his tongue
come into contact. Michael ate her ravenously. Adrianna dug her fingernails into the
pillows and thrashed her head from side as she ascended to a sexual peak. She ran her
toes roughly through Michaels hair, grasping, and his scalp tingled from the scratch of
her long toenails. Michael glanced up with his eyes and saw Adrianna had hers closed,
and she was sucking her fingers. He watched her slowly insert and withdraw each one,
her two-inch fingernails glistening-wet, and he boiled with desire for her. He fondled and
kneaded his cock with one hand, hoping, praying to get it hard enough to penetrate her.
Adrianna was beginning to thrust her mound against his face, and she extended one long
leg down his back and scratched him invigoratingly with her amazing, sexy long toenails.
Michael felt his erection against the mattress, and he raised up on his knees holding
Adriannas ankles. "Michael?!" she cried with desperation at the sudden absence of his
tongue inside her, but she quickly smiled and exclaimed with childlike glee, "Oh!
Michael!" when she saw his hard cock, and eagerly reached for it and stroked it with her
nail tips as she led him to enter her. Adrianna was already at the brink of orgasm, and
she thrust urgently, encouraging Michael to pump hard. He held one of her feet to his
mouth licking around and under each of her creamy-white long toenails, while she
clawed the sheets with her other foot and reached out for him with both hands, grasping
the air with her incredible two-inch long fingernails. Adrianna threw her head back into
the pillow and held her breath while a thunderous orgasmic wave swept through her
body. She crunched her toes with involuntary strength, yet Michael kept lapping at her
long toenails and thrusting into her, even as Adrianna began to recover from her climax.
She brought her hands down between her legs placing her fingers so that as Michaels
shaft slid in and out of her, it rubbed very lightly against the tips of her long fingernails.
"Oh God!" Michael screamed, stuffed all her toes into his mouth and exploded like a
nuclear bomb.
The two of them lay side-by-side on their backs panting for breath. The sheets were half-
off the bed and damp with the sweat that beaded and trickled off their bodies. Michael
reached for Adriannas hand and she grasped his warmly. "I havent cum this many
times in a day since I was a teenager, and then that was flying solo," Michael laughed.
Adrianna turned on her side and stroked a single long fingernail along his arm. "I dont
think I came this many times…total…during my entire marriage," she said with an
adoring smile, and she lifted herself over him and slowly lowered her lips onto his and
engaged him in a passionate kiss while caressing the side of his face with the tips of her
fingernails. "I can feel your heart beating faster," she whispered. She rested her ankle on
his cock. "Just checking," she said with a giggle. "Adrianna…please! Im completely
wiped-out!" Michael groaned. "Are you sure, Michael?" she asked teasingly. Suddenly
Michael felt her toenails toying with his cock. "Are you trying to kill me?" he joked.
Adrianna left a tender kiss on his lips and whispered, "Im trying to show you that Im
never not in the mood." Michael thought about Donna, his fiancIe, and how frequently
she was not in the mood…that she probably has let Michael fuck me entered in her
Blackberry calendar as a weekly event… right after clip my nails.
Adrianna lifted one long, smooth leg and spread her finger-like toes. Her long toenails
glowed like little lanterns in the warm late-afternoon light that streamed through the open
window. "I never had long toenails before I came to the island," she said. "Theyre
incredibly sexy," Michael said. "I suppose Ill eventually have to cut them so I can wear
closed shoes again," she sighed. "What?! NO! You cant!" Michael cried. "You mean
just stay here on this island…forever?" she laughed. "We could go other places
sometimes…just whenever its summer there," he suggested. Adrianna looked into his
eyes. "We?" she asked. "Well…I meant…," Michael stuttered, then he assumed a
purposeful look and said confidently, "Yes. We. Us. You and me." Adrianna lifted his
hand to her lips and kissed it. "I love you," she sighed. Michaels eyes darted from nail
to nail drinking-in their unbelievable length and subtle, seductive curvature. "I love you,
Adrianna," he said. Adrianna looked at the little diamond-encrusted Patek on her wrist.
"I have to make a phone call, Michael," she said slipping her tall, flawless body
gracefully out of the rumpled sheets and tying the robe around herself. "Dinner again
tonight?" he asked hopefully. "And dancing," she replied with a warm smile, "Lots and
lots of slow, romantic dancing." Michael started to get up, but Adrianna bent over him
and pressed her hands flat on his chest and they shared a long kiss. As she rose to leave,
Adrianna let her long, creamy-white fingernails trail gently down his chest, over his
stomach and around his hips, and down his legs. She smiled at his erection and blew
him a kiss off of her sexy long fingernails. "Get some rest," she said softly and with an
alluring smile, "Because tonight Ill definitely let you walk me home."
Back in her hut, Adrianna spread herself on her back on her bed and closed her eyes.
Then she picked up the phone and tapped out the number with the tip of a two-inch long
fingernail. "Hello! This is Adrianna," she said, "Im fine. Ok, more than fine. Im in
love…I know! I cant believe it either. I just looked up and there he was, like Prince
Charming. It was love at first sight…Yes, for both of us. And do you want to hear the
most amazing part? He adores my nails! Isnt that fantastic?! I mean, hes absolutely
insane over them!" Adrianna nodded and laughed at what was said on the other end, and
then she continued, "So the reason Im calling is to tell you that I dont want to sell the
island after all…Yes, you were right…Yes, I admit it. You know me better than I know
myself...Absolutely! You have my complete approval to gather that group of investors
together…What? Oh, of course I know youre not doing this just because it will make
you rich also! Youve always had my best interest at heart. Ive known that ever since
you handled my divorce. And anyway, making you rich is the least I can do to repay you
for convincing me to stay on the island another week. If not I never would have met the
man of my dreams...Yes, youre absolutely right, fate does work in mysterious
ways…Ok…Ok…Yes, just send me whatever papers you need and Ill sign them…Yes,
thank you. You too…Well speak soon. Bye." Adrianna smiled, and sighed a deep sigh
of happiness and contentment.
That night at the outdoor restaurant there was a quartet playing modern jazz. A snare-
drum whisked in syncopated rhythm to the staccato plucking of a stand-up bass while a
vintage Les Paul electric guitar played soft chords, and the melody of a tenor sax scurried
between them like a playful child. As if on cue, the music stopped, and the ensemble
immediately started playing Count Basie. Adrianna stood at the Maitre-ds podium in a
low-cut strapless black sequined evening gown. Her long hair was swept up except for
gently-curled side locks that cascaded softly past her flawless cheeks. Teardrop-shaped
diamond earrings dangled alongside her long, delicate neck which was encircled by a
matching teardrop diamond pendant necklace that sparkled at the center of her cleavage.
Adriannas black strapped stiletto-heeled sandals clicked against the stone pavers as she
walked slowly toward the table where Michael was sitting, a long, smooth leg peeking in
and out teasingly though the long side-slit in her gown. He looked her quickly up and
down with his mouth hanging open in speechless awe. Her long, perfectly-groomed
toenails and subtly-curved two-inch long fingernails were painted a dark cherry-red and
each one sparkled like wet glass reflecting the flickering candle light. Michael jumped to
his feet. "You look…oh my God…I wouldnt have believed you could look any more
beautiful, but…oh my God!" he exclaimed with the exuberance of a teenager seeing his
prom date for the first time in something other than t-shirt and jeans. Adrianna smiled
modestly. "Im glad you like it, Michael. I did it all for you," she said warmly.
"Adrianna, I have something amazing to tell you!" he blurted. "And I have something to
tell you also. May we tell each other while we dance?" she inquired. "Of course,"
Michael replied offering her his hand.
The two of them stood cheek-to-cheek swaying gently to the soft jazz, his arms around
her narrow waist and hers around his neck. Michael inhaled Adriannas light, breezy
perfume and felt her warm breath caress his face. She kissed his earlobe softly and
stroked him under his chin with the tips of her long dark cherry-red fingernails, and
smiled at feeling his erection press against her. "What was it you wanted to tell me,
darling?" Adrianna whispered in his ear. "You first," he said reeling from the sudden
rush of adrenaline the touch of her nails had caused. Adrianna said softly, "I called my
attorney this afternoon and said to go ahead and get the investor group together." "So
youve decided not to sell your island," he said. "Our island, Michael my love," she
corrected him with a hopeful smile, but then she looked anxiously into his eyes and
asked, "Or…am I assuming too much? I mean, you and your fiancIe, is that…" "Thats
what I was going to tell you!" Michael exclaimed excitedly, taking Adrianna by the
shoulders, "My fiancIe called me an hour ago and told me that she realized we were
wrong for each other. She broke up with me!" Adriannas sky-blue eyes brightened like
day dawning over the ocean. She parted her lips and met Michael in a long, passionate
kiss that drew applause from the other diners. Adrianna caressed Michaels face with her
long, cherry-red two-inch fingernails, and he drew a deep breath and his eyes rolled back
in his head. He whispered, "What if we ask Anton to have room-service bring our
dinners to the hut…around midnight?" "That would be lovely, Michael," she whispered,
rubbing her leg against his, and when he looked down she crunched her finger-like toes in
her high-heeled sandals, and her long dark cherry-red toenails sparkled invitingly.
Walking leisurely up the path back toward the huts, Michael put his arm around
Adriannas slender waist. He could feel the sexy way her hips swayed as she walked, and
he let his hand drift down onto her bottom. She leaned tightly against him and took his
hand, interlacing their fingers, and Michael could feel the tips of her two-inch long
fingernails touching the back of his hand. He began to breathe hard, and Adrianna
touched his arm with her other hand and stroked it up and down with her nails. "I love
you so much, Michael," she said softly. "I love you!" Michael sighed urgently, "Its
incredible we found each other, here of all places on earth." "Like my attorney always
says Fate works in mysterious ways," Adrianna sighed. Michael laughed. "You dont
believe in fate?" she asked. "Well, if I didnt, I sure do now," he responded, staring with
unbridled lust at Adriannas incredible long nails, "Thats not why I laughed. Its just,
that happened to be my fiancIes favorite expression."
-
FRESHMAN ENGLISH
FRESHMAN ENGLISH
Winston C. (yes, it stood for Churchill, his father was a WWII buff) Flieger was almost
nineteen but he looked much younger. Short and frail, with spindly arms and legs, a
prominent Adams apple and a weak chin, the most revealing feature of his hairless chest
was his ribcage. He had just a little downy fuzz on his upper lip, and his nasal voice still
tended to crack. It was his first week away at college, and it already was more painful
than high school. At least back there he hung with the younger kids, but here in college,
he stood out like a sore thumb even among his fellow freshmen, who were all more
manly-looking than him. The college women looked past him like he was invisible, and
whereas back in high school he could escape each night to the comfort of his house, here
in the dorm there was sex going on constantly all around him. Everyone was getting laid.
Everyone but him. And Winston was a pragmatist who knew that wasnt going to
change. He figured that his only hope of ever attracting a hot girl would be to become a
doctor, and fortunately he was good in science, so he signed up for pre-med.
One of the classes everyone had to take was freshman English, and Winston hated it
because it was three days a week, and because he always felt stupid being called on. His
nasal, cracking voice stood out from the other deep-voiced male students, and he could
always feel the smirks and hear the muffled snickers whenever he had to speak. So he
always tried sit in a corner and would put his backpack on the seat next to him to prevent
anyone from sitting there. He wanted to make himself as invisible as possible, avoiding
eye-contact with the professor or any of the other students. Lost in Monday blues, he
heard a soft female voice say, "Uh…is that yours?" Winston hesitantly looked up, and
there was the most breath-taking young woman he had ever seen, looking at his backpack
on the adjacent seat. She was small, maybe 53" at most, with thick, long black hair that
waved and wrapped over her arms and down her back. She had huge, dark eyes with
long, curling lashes, and a small mouth with full, pink lips that glistened. She was
hugging a large 3-ring binder to her tiny body with both arms, with just her left thumb
hooked over the bottom front edge. Winston was startled, and his heart started to pound.
Her unpolished thumbnail was very long, longer than the pink part, in fact it was about as
long again as the first joint of her thumb. "Can I sit there?" she said. "Oh…Oh, sure,
yes. Sorry," Winston said, his voice cracking a little, and he quickly grabbed his
backpack and stuffed it under his own seat. "Thanks," she said softly, and she sat down
to his right. "Im Megan," she said, "Megan Romano." Winston nodded. She kept
looking at him, but he said nothing. "Whats your name?" she said finally. "Its…now,
dont laugh…its Winston," he said. "Hi," she said. "Hi," Winston said. "Uh…do they
call you something for short?" she asked. That was another thing about his name he
hated. There really wasnt any way to shorten it. Oh, well, Winny maybe, but that
would be worse than nothing. "Uh…no…everyone just calls me Winston," he said.
"Winstons a cool name," she said. Winston smiled. A hot girl thought his name was
cool. Wow. Just then Megan turned to him and said, "You look more like an Elmo. Can
I call you Elmo?" Oh, great. How utterly humiliating. "Uh…sure," Winston said
meekly. Face it, a hot girl like Megan could call him Turdnose if she wanted.
The professor came in and began class, and Megan opened her binder and began taking
notes with a thick, hot-pink ballpoint with a tuft of pink fake fur on the end. That pink
fur dancing on the end of her pen in Winstons peripheral vision caught his attention and
he shifted just his eyes toward it for a moment. Megans left hand was spread out on her
notepaper, and all of her fingernails were incredibly long. They were probably half again
as long as her tiny fingers. Winston had never seen a girl with nails that long in his life,
and his heart raced and he trembled all over. And he felt himself getting hard. He saw
that the nails on her right hand were also extremely long, in fact she had to keep her pen
in a sort of claw-grip. He could see that her right thumbnail and the nails on her first two
fingers were a little shorter than on her left hand, but not by much. He was completely
distracted all through class, and kept stealing little surreptitious sideways glances at her
hands, and each time he did, he felt his dick jump.
Finally, the class was over, and everybody started to gather their books and push back
their chairs to leave. Winston remembered his backpack under his chair, and he leaned
over sideways to reach it. It was then that he noticed that Megan was wearing strappy
shoes with rather high, cork wedge soles. She must be even shorter than he thought. She
must be tiny. A tiny, incredibly hot girl. Just then she slid her chair back and Winston
got a look at her toes. They were small, but long and slim, almost like fingers. Her
toenails were unpolished, and very much longer than hed ever seen on a girl, although
they were very pretty and clean. He could hear his heart pumping. Just then the furry
pink pen fell near where he was looking, and he felt her hair cover his head as she leaned
down to reach for it. Winston quickly picked up Megans pen and handed it to her.
"Thank you, Elmo, you are a gentleman," she said.
As they walked to the door, Winston said, "What class do you have next?" "European
History," Megan said, "But not for an hour." Winston had a free hour also, and he
quickly rehearsed asking Megan if shed like to get a soda…no, that was immature…a
Starbucks! Yeah! A Starbucks! Winston started, "Um…Megan? I was just wondering
if maybe youd…." "Heeeeyyyy, you!" he heard her say in a very sexy-sounding voice,
and Winston turned to see a tall, good-looking guy had his arm around her, and she
french-kissed him, reaching up and stroking his scruffy beard with her incredibly long
fingernails. "Whenre you gonna cut those freaky things?" the guy whined as they
walked off down the hall, her arm around his waist and him squeezing her tight little ass.
Winston watched with dejection as they disappeared into the crowd of students.
That night, Winston found it nearly impossible to focus on his studying. He kept seeing
Megans nails in front of his eyes, and he re-ran his encounter with her over and over in
his mind, each time envisioning a different ending. In the first one, he got to ask her out,
and she accepted and they left together without her boyfriend ever showing up. In the
second, she told her studly boyfriend she had other plans, and took Winstons arm and
walked away with him. In the final re-write, it was him she kissed, his face she caressed
with her super-long fingernails. That version made him get hard. It was the one he had
in his mind as he turned out the lights, and the one that woke him in the middle of the
night needing to jerk himself off before he could fall back to sleep.
"Thanks for saving me my seat again," came a tiny, sweet voice, as Winston flipped
through his notes in English on Wednesday. He looked up into Megans enormous, dark
eyes and saw her little smile. "Hi, Elmo," she said, sliding her small but perfect body
into the seat after Winston picked up his backpack. She crossed her legs, and Winston
saw that she was wearing black platform-heel shoes. Her toenails were painted shiny
black to match, and, long as they were, looked incredibly sexy. When she opened her
notebook, he saw that she still had her uncommonly long fingernails, so evidently she
hadnt given in to her boyfriends wish for her to cut them, and he felt relieved and
euphoric. "I think I mightve missed some notes the very end of Mondays class," she
said suddenly, "Can I check yours?" "Sure," Winston said, preparing to hand over his
notebook to her. Instead, she leaned over to him, resting her left hand on his right
shoulder and peering at his notes. Winstons eyes travelled as far right in their sockets as
they could go, getting a close inspection of Megans long fingernails. They seemed even
more spectacularly long, right up close like that. Suddenly her right hand was touching
his bare right arm, gently pulling it away so she could see the page better. As she did, her
soft hand slid over his arm and he felt her nails brush gently against his skin. Her face
was about an inch from his, and her long, wavy black hair lay across his arm. She had a
little diamond stud in her earlobe, and four tiny silver rings in a row along the edge of her
ear. He inhaled her clean, soapy scent. Before she leaned back into her seat, Megan
turned to him and smiled, "Thanks, Elmo." Winston was unable to reply. His dick was
hard, painfully so, and he could feel his armpits were soaking wet, and he hoped his
deodorant would hold even though the antiperspirant part had obviously not.
After class, as they gathered their things, Megan said to him, "God, this class sucks!" "It
is pretty boring I guess," Winston said in his nasal voice. "Do you know what your
major is yet?" Megan asked. "Pre-med," he answered, his voice cracking. "Woo hoo!"
she laughed, "Doctor Elmo! How cool! I wish I knew what I wanted to be." "Youll
figure it out," Winston said, "What kinds of stuff are you interested in?" "I dont know.
I love clothes and shoes," she said. "How about being a model?" Winston asked. Megan
laughed out loud, "I wish! Im about like a foot too short to be a model. Theyre all like
five-ten or something. Im not even five feet." "That sucks," Winston said, "Youre
pretty enough to be a model." Shed heard that line before, but there was genuine
innocence and honesty in Winstons face and voice. "Thanks, Elmo," Megan said with a
smile, "Youre really sweet." They walked out together, and Winston scouted around
looking for Megans boyfriend to show up, but he was nowhere around. "Wheres your
boyfriend today?" Winston asked. "Oh, you mean Jared? Hes got class across campus
today. And hes not really my boyfriend, not yet," Megan said. Winstons eyes lit up,
feeling relieved to think that the relationship was still at the making-out stage. "Oh," he
said, trying to act cool. "Yeah, so far weve just been hooking up," Megan said matter-
of-factly. Winstons heart sank. In his mind he had a vision of Megans beautiful little
feet with their shiny black-painted toenails, crossed behind Jareds hairy, muscular back
as he grunted and fucked her hard and fast like a gorilla, and it made Winston sick. "Im
gonna get a Starbucks. Wanna come?" Megan said. "Sure!" he cried.
Megan ordered a Strawberry Iced Frappucino, and Winston, who had never been in a
Starbucks before, and almost never drank coffee, ordered a grande Double Mocha Latte.
They sat outside, him watching Megan clasping her cup, and holding the straw delicately
with one finger and her thumb, her super-long fingernails everywhere in view. She took
the straw between her glistening pink lips, and Winston watched the liquid shoot up the
straw as her lovely cheeks indented. When she took the straw from her mouth, a little
drop of drink remained on her lower lip, and she licked it up with the tip of her tongue.
Winstons dick had never been that hard, that he could remember. "Its so great to be
away from home and free at last, isnt it?" Megan said. "Oh…yeah!" Winston said,
pretending he agreed, when in fact so far hed been less than miserable. "Eighteen years
with an Irish-Catholic mother and an Italian-Catholic father, and three overprotective
older brothers," Megan laughed, "I feel like I just got paroled." She fished in her bag and
took out a package of 100mm cigarettes and a lighter. Megan delicately extracted a long,
white cigarette with her extraordinarily long thumbnail and fingernail, and held it
between her first and middle fingers. She started to put the pack back in her bag but
stopped. "Want one?" she asked Winston. "Oh…ah…yeah, thanks," he said. Megan
used her nails to pluck another cigarette about an inch out of the pack and she held it out
to Winston, who took it. Megan put her cigarette between her lips and flicked her lighter
and lit her cigarette and took a long drag and blew the smoke up in the air, holding her
cigarette seductively between two fingers. Winston fiddled with the lighter a couple of
times before he got it to work, lit his cigarette and took a tiny drag. His eyes bulged and
he turned blue and started coughing hard. "You dont smoke, do you Elmo," Megan said.
Winston couldnt speak, he was coughing so hard. He put the cigarette to his lips again,
but Megan snatched it out and dropped it on the ground and snuffed it with her shoe.
"Smokings bad for you. I should quit, " she said. The combination of caffeine, nicotine,
and nerves made Winston have to take a shit, and so, embarassed, he excused himself and
went to the restroom. He kept looking at his watch, thinking of how hed abandoned his
date and left her sitting all alone, but it was ten minutes before he could get off the can.
As he washed his hands he thought about how Megan must obviously know he was
taking a shit. When he came outside, he saw Megan talking to some guy, some big guy
with a goatee, and she was holding his hand and writing something on his palm. "Hey
Elmo, sorry, I gotta run. Its been nice," she said, getting to her feet and slinging her bag
over one shoulder, "Bye!" "See you Friday," Winston said quietly as he watched her
walk away.
Fridays English class came in a flash, and this time Winston got there early purposely to
make sure he got his same seat, and put his backpack on the next one. As he tossed
through his papers he felt something hard and sharp lightly scrape the back of his neck.
"Hi!" Megan said, waving her fingers and those extremely long nails. She sat down and
stretched out her little legs. She had on bright red patent leather high-heeled sandals and
her long toenails were painted to match. "Like my new shoes?" she whispered. "Yeah,
theyre great," Winston said. "I got them yesterday. I wanted to call you to see if you
wanted to go shopping with me but I remembered I never got your cell number. Can I
have it?" she asked, "Here, give me your phone." Winston was dumbfounded but he
eagerly gave her his phone, and she programmed his number into hers. "I can program
my number into your phone," Megan said, "I mean, only if you want, of course." "O-ok.
Yes. Please. Sure!" he stammered, blushing slightly. "You can call me any time you
want, ok?" Megan said, playfully scratching his arm with her incredibly long nails.
"Uh…wow!…thanks!" Winston said, his heart pounding and knees shaking. After class,
Winston was going to ask Megan to go to Starbucks again, but Jared was waiting outside
the classroom and they kissed passionately. "Bye, Elmo, see you Monday!" she said,
waving her long nails at him, while grabbing Jareds arm with her other hand. "Owww!
Jesus, Catwoman. I hate those frigginclaws of yours!" he grunted, rubbing his arm.
Winston lowered his head and walked slowly to the library.
With no friends, the first weekend of college was going to be excruciatingly lonely. All
the guys on his floor had already paired off with girls and were going out drinking in
groups of couples, after which they would no doubt return to the dorm and screw like
monkeys. That Friday night was the loneliest night Winston had ever spent, and by
eleven he turned out the lights and curled up into the fetal position and went to sleep.
Suddenly he was jarred awake by the sound of the Star Wars theme, the ring tone on his
cellphone. Winston felt around in the dark for his glasses, and then turned on the light
and grabbed his phone. "Hello?" he said sleepily. "Elmo? Its me. Megan," she said.
"What time is it?" Winston asked. "Its only three…wait…you werent alseep were
you?" she said. "Huh…no," Winston said, yawning. "Oh no, you were asleep. Im
really sorry. Forget it," she said. "No….no! Really, I wasnt asleep," he lied, "Whats
up?" Megan started to sob hysterically. "Whats wrong? Megan?" Winston said, now
fully awake. "I-its Jared. We had a huge fight. I told him I never want to see him
again," she sobbed. "Gee, Im sorry," Winston said, which was also a lie, but he wasnt
slick enough to say anything better. "Can you come over?" Megan sobbed softly.
"Now?" Winston asked. "Please?" she sobbed.
Winston smelled his armpits and put on some deodorant, then he threw on some sweats
and went downstairs and got his bike from the rack and pedalled furiously over to
Megans dorm and went upstairs to her room. She answered his knock dressed in a
nightshirt, she was sniffling and her eyes were red and puffy. In contrast to his room
which was obsessively orderly and neat, Megans room looked like a bomb had gone off
in a womens department store. There were shoes and socks and pantyhose and bras and
thongs and every other possible article of womens clothing scattered everywhere on the
floor and desk and chair. There were even clothes draped over the lampshade. An open
box of tampons was in plain sight, next to an ashtray full of cigarette butts, and a cloud of
smoke hung in the air. Winstons eyes burned and watered and his throat tickled from
the smoke. As soon as he closed the door behind him, Megan leaned her head against him
and began sobbing loudly. It was the first time hed stood next to her in her bare feet,
and it surprised him just how little she was. Winston patted her on the back. She was
trying to tell him something, crying hysterically and hiccuping and sniffling, and Winston
couldnt understand a word she was saying. "Um…maybe we should sit
down….somewhere?" he said, surveying the room for someplace to sit that wasnt a foot
deep in laundry. Megan took his hand and led him to the bed and he sat down next to
her. She rested her head against his shoulder and held his arm with both hands. "What is
it about me that I always pick losers?" she cried. "What happened?" Winston asked,
"What was the fight all about?" "It was so stupid!" she said. "What?" he asked. "I
mean, we were getting along great. The sex was amazing. Really, really, reeallllllly
amazing," she said. Winston felt a little queasy, but he took deep breaths until it passed.
"Ok, so after we…you know…did it," she began. Winston took more deep breaths.
Megan went on, "Thats when he gets all serious and says he doesnt think its gonna
work out." And she started to cry again. "Do you have any tissues?" he asked her.
"Yeah, somewhere," she said, and while Winston looked through her piles of clothes
until he found a smashed box of Kleenex, Megan lit another cigarette and continued her
story, "So Jared tells me that all his friends think Im a freak on account of my freakishly
long nails, which he hates and really turn him off, and that if I want to be with him I hafta
cut them." Megan stubbed out her cigarette and sobbed softly, "I thought he liked me for
who I am…and my long nails are part of who I am…is that wrong?" "N-no. Youre
right," Winston said, not knowing what else to say. Megan lit another cigarette. Shed
stopped crying, and she turned her face close to Winstons. "Do think my nails are way
freakish, Elmo?" she asked, puffs of smoke coming out of her nose and mouth along with
her words. She laid her hands in his lap, cigarette between her fingers. Winston felt his
dick start to get hard. "N-no, I-I think theyre….theyre….really pretty," he said. "Can I
show you something, and youll promise not to laugh or call me weird?" Megan said.
"Sure," Winston said. "And promise youll never, ever tell anyone?" Megan said. "I
promise," Winston said. Megan got on her knees and reached under her bed and pulled
out a suitcase, opened it, and took out a small painted wooden box with a gold-plated
padlock. She reached into her cleavage and pulled out an ornate gold crucifix on a gold
chain, and next to it was a tiny key, which she used to unlock the little box. Carefully she
opened the box, and inside were broken pieces of fingernails. Hundreds of them, by
Winstons estimation. They were all different lengths, and some of them were sort of
yellowed. A few had polish on them. "Ive saved every one of my broken nails since I
was little," she said. Winston was speechless. "You promised you wouldnt think Im
weird," she reminded him. "I dont," Winston said, "But why do you keep them?" "I told
you," she said "My nails are part of who I am." Megan poked her pointer nail around in
the box until finally she found and plucked out one very long broken piece and showed it
to Winston. "This is my favorite one," she said, "It was from my left ring finger, when I
was maybe fourteen. I measured it, its four and three-sixteenths inches long, the longest
nail I ever had." "Wow! Its incredible!" Winston said. Megan realized he wasnt just
humoring her, and she smiled at him. "Here, you can hold it," she said. Winston took
the long piece of nail carefully and held it in the palm of his hand, like it was a priceless
treasure, and Megan beamed at him. Finally he handed it tenderly back to her and
thanked her. "Why cant everybody be like you?" she said, and she scraped her nails
down his arm and took his hand. Winston felt like his dick was ready to explode.
"Thanks for coming over, and for making me feel better. Youre a really great guy,
Elmo," she said, "Um…wanna watch TV or something?" "Ok, sure," Winston said,
relieved that he wouldnt need to stand up quite yet. Megan dug through a pile of clothes
and found the remote and turned on her little TV. She put some pillows against the wall
across the long side of her bed, and Winston sat back. Megan rested her head on his
shoulder and they watched an old movie. Every once in a while she would touch his arm,
and he would turn to her and she would smile at him and comb through her thick, black
hair with her long nails. After the second old movie began, she lay down and put her
head in his lap, and in a few minutes Winston realized that she was sound asleep.
"Hey, wanna go to the mall with me?" Megan asked Winston in the morning.
"Um…sure!" he responded happily. At the mall there was a food court, and they grabbed
breakfast. The teenage boy behind the counter almost dropped the tray when he saw
Megans fingernails, and the heavyset African-American woman who rang them up had a
set of thick, candy-striped two-inch thick fake nails, and remarked to Megan with a loud
chuckle, "Damn, you got you some baaaad nails, for a little bitty white girl!" Winston
loved sitting across from Megan and watching her eat, because he got to see her nails in
action. After her heartbreak, a day of shopping was just what Megan needed, and she
perked up quickly. Megans favorite thing to shop for was shoes, so thats where they
spent most of their time. She must have tried on a hundred pair, although most of the
ones on display were too large for her size five feet. Megan would stand and grip
Winstons arm or hold onto his shoulder while she slipped in and out of shoes. A couple
times she sat down and held out her foot to Winston so that he would take off or put on a
shoe for her. It gave him a close view of her feet and toes and long toenails, which he
found began to turn him on more and more. All the shoes she tried on were open-toed,
and at one point, while Winston was on his knees helping her try on a pair of strappy
sandals with five-inch stiletto heels, she sighed and remarked that in a couple months
shed probably have to cut her long toenails so she could wear closed shoes during the
winter. "Cant you just buy a bigger size, so you wont need to?" Winston asked
urgently. Megan smiled brightly, "I tried it, but I have to wear heels because Im so
short, and then my feet just slide forward and my toes hit the front anyway." "Dont
worry, I dont have to cut them all the way off," she said, and she rubbed her soft sole
against his hand and curled her toes and gently scraped him with her toenails. Winston
looked at her toes and then at her and smiled, "I think theyre really pretty." "Wow,
youre the first person ever who didnt want me to cut my toenails!" Megan gushed, then
she held her foot in front of Winstons face and tilted her head up with her nose in the air
and said in a royal manner, "You may kiss my foot." Megan was about to start laughing
but Winston took her little foot very gently in both hands, and tenderly kissed her sole.
"I-I was only kidding….eeww…my feet must smell," she said. "They dont. Theyre
perfect," Winston said, brushing the tip of his finger across the ends of her toenails.
"Youre weird," she sighed. Winston bowed his head. "I meant it in a good way,"
Megan whispered, and she cupped his head and kissed him on the cheek, "A really good
way." He felt her long thumbnail brush his ear, and it made him shivver.
Megan ended up buying only one pair of shoes, plus some makeup. She took out her
credit card and handed it to the checkout girl, who had fashionably boy-short, stubby
nails painted dark metallic blue. She looked at Megans nails with an expression of
eeeewwww, gross written all over her. Making sure the girl was watching, Megan
slowly dragged her nails down Winstons arm and took his hand. The checkout girl
looked at Winstons spindly arm and baby-soft, weak-chinned, bespectacled face, and
another expression of eeeewwww, gross crossed her face, and Winston quickly
withdrew his hand and put both hands in his pockets and walked away with his head
down. "Hey, wait up, Elmo!" Megan shouted, doing her best to run in her platform
sandals, "Whats wrong?" They walked from the bus back to Megans dorm, and
Winston went to get his bike from the rack where hed left it last night. Megan said
excitedly, "Theres a party in my dorm tonight. With a DJ. Wanna come?" "Uh…I
really have to study. Theres a quiz in English on Monday…remember?" he said. "Shit.
Now I do," she giggled sheepishly, "Well, theres all day tomorrow yet. Cmon,
pleeeaaaassse. I love to dance." "I dance stupid," Winston said. "Dancings not about
looking cool," Megan said, "Its about not caring if you look stupid, and just having fun."
"Its hard when everyones staring and laughing at you," he said. "I wouldnt laugh at
you," Megan said, putting her hand on his shoulder and stroking his neck with a very
long nail, which made him shivver. "Nah, I think Ill pass," Winston said. Megan
lowered her eyes. "Ok. But, if you change your mind after you study, just come," she
said, "If not, do you wanna study for the quiz together tomorrow morning?" "Sure,"
Winston said. "Cool, come over, I dunno, ten-ish?" she said. "Ok. Ill stop and get
some croissants and stuff," he said, and he slung his leg over his bike and pedalled off.
Winston had a lot of trouble concentrating on his studying that evening. He desperately
wanted to be with Megan, and he cringed at the thought of her at that party, surrounded
by horny, great-looking young men. But the memories of his lonely, humiliating times at
parties in high-school, not to mention the one dorm party he attended the first night of
college, made him terrified to go. He woke up frequently that night, and didnt finally
really sleep until he saw that the clock said five AM and he was certain the party was
over. At nine he woke up and took a shower and ran to his bike and went and bought
croissants and a little jar of strawberry preserves, and then on to Megans dorm, where he
raced upstairs and knocked on her door at about a minute before ten. Nobody answered
and so he knocked again. Winston was just about to turn and leave when he heard the
latch click, and the door slowly opened just far enough for Megans sleepy face. "Huh?
Uh….Elmo? Whatre…what time is it?" she said, barely awake. "Its ten…yesterday
you said, you know, studying for the quiz in English? I brought breakfast," he said,
holding up the bag. Megan rubbed her eyes with her knuckles. "Oh….shit, right," she
said, bleary-eyed. Winston started, "Its ok, I can come back later and…" when suddenly
he heard a deep voice come from inside her room, "Hey babe, who is it? Whos there?"
"Nobody," she shouted, "Its nobody." "Come back to bed," the voice called. Megan
scratched her head with her long nails, and she looked at Winston and said,
"Hey…Elmo…could you like, call me later or something?" "Forget it," he muttered,
and he dropped the bag of croissants at her feet and walked away. "Elmo?" she called,
alarmed, but still drowsy. "Are you coming to bed?" the mans voice called from inside
her room. "Yeah, ok," she said.
Winston went back to his room and had a good, long cry, and then spent the rest of the
day studying. He thought about calling or IMing Megan to apologize. What would he
say he was sorry for? He didnt know. Anyway, he really needed to get his mind on
studying and off of Megan. She had some other guy now. For all he knew, this one
would be into her nails, and hed go from hook-up to boyfriend, and that would be that.
End of story. Its not like he ever had a chance with her anyway. A hot girl like Megan
wasnt ever going to like him that way. So after dinner, Winston packed up his books
and went to the library, returning just before midnight, and went straight to sleep. That
night was the first night in a week that he didnt have an erotic dream about Megan, and
he woke up rested the next morning.
"Hi," Megan said sweetly at the start of English class. Winston took his backpack off the
chair and she sat down. She was wearing the new shoes she bought with him Saturday.
"Why didnt you ever call me yesterday?" she said. Winston looked at her with pained
incredulousness. "What?" she asked earnestly. "Nothing. Nevermind. I forgot, ok,"
Winston snapped. "Ok," she said very softly, lowering her eyes. The professor passed
out the quizzes and everyone began writing feverishly for the remainder of the hour.
Winston could detect Megans dancing pink-fur-tipped pen out of the corner of his eye,
but he refused to look her way. He heard her tap her long fingernails on her paper a
couple of times and exhale with frustration. Still he didnt look over. He heard her slip
her feet out of her shoes and tuck her legs under her. He couldnt help glance quickly to
the side. Her little bare soles were facing to him, and he could see the underside edges of
her long toenails. Her left hand dropped to her foot and he heard the skritch-skritch-
skritch as she scratched her sole with her long fingernails, and she curled and uncurled
her toes unconsciously while she wrote her quiz. And despite willing it not to happen,
Winston got hard.
"I think I completely failed the quiz," she sighed as everyone gathered up to leave, then
she turned to Winston, "How bout you, Elmo?" "I dont know," he said. "Think you
aced it?" she said. "I said, I dont know," he said with annoyance. "Why are you being a
prick?" Megan asked, grabbing his arm. Winston wrenched his arm away and felt a
sharp sting, and they both looked at the series of red scratch marks from her sharp
fingernails. "Oh my God I scratched you! I didnt mean to do that, Elmo. Im really
sorry!" she cried, and tears began to flow down her cheeks. The scratch marks started to
fill up with blood. "Youre bleeding…we should wash it…I think I might even have a
band-aid," Megan chattered. "Forget it, it doesnt hurt," Winston said, and then very
softly under his breath he muttered, "Thats not what hurts." "Please tell me whats
wrong!" Megan said, "I thought you were my friend." "Really?" Winston said, "I thought
Im nobody…remember?" And he turned and walked away. He barely made it to the
nearest mens restroom, where he went inside a stall and silently sobbed for the rest of
the hour until he had to get to his next class.
Megan texted and IMed him and left voicemails on his cell, all of which said either Im
sorry or I didnt mean it like that or Forgive me, but Winston didnt respond. What
good would it do? So what if she was upset they werent friends anymore? Being just
friends with her while she slept with other guys was just too painful. Winston went to
the library to study his chemistry and physics, and when he returned to his dorm it was
after one in the morning. There was a little yellow envelope taped to his door, with one
word written on it in pink marker: Elmo. Sleepy, Winston took it from the door and
went inside and flopped on his bed, eyeing the envelope but not opening it. Finally he
took the letter opener from his desk set and carefully slit the envelope. Folded inside the
little yellow envelope was a matching yellow card, with Just A Little Note From…
Megan Romano and some little hearts, printed in hot pink glitter on the cover. Winston
opened the card, and there was a message that read simply Would I give you this if you
were nobody? Taped neatly below it was a piece of broken fingernail…the four and
three-sixteenths inch piece from her box. Her favorite. Her longest nail ever.
Winston picked up his cell and called Megans number. "Hi, Elmo," she answered softly,
seeing his caller ID, "Where are you?" "Home," he said. "Did you get my present?" she
asked. "Yes. Thanks," he said. "Elmo Im so sorry I said that," she said, her voice
breaking, "It was really stupid and thoughtless." "Its ok, Megan, Im over it. Really,"
he said. "Youre sure?" she said. "Yeah. Im sure," he said. "Then…were friends
again?" she asked, hopefully. Hearing no answer, she said, "Elmo? Hello? Elmo, please
answer me. Please say were friends." "You have a new boyfriend now," Winston said.
"Huh? Who? Oh….God, he isnt…no…no!" she cried, "I got drunk at the party
and...and it was a huge mistake. Which by the way is kinda your fault too." "My fault?"
Winston shouted. "Yeah, your fault!" Megan yelled, "If you had come to the party like I
asked, you would have…" "What? Been a good friend and found an even better-looking
guy for you to hook up with?" Winston said sarcastically. "You are such an idiot!"
Megan screamed, and she hung up.
On Tuesday, Winston had chemistry lecture followed by several hours of lab, and then a
physics lecture at the end of the day. He came back to his dorm and had dinner, wrote up
his chem lab, and did some studying. He picked up his English book around eleven, and
there next to it on the desk was the yellow envelope with Megans card. Winston opened
it and ran his finger over the long piece of her broken fingernail. He licked it with his
tongue, and scraped it against his cheek. He could see Megan in his minds eye, her
huge, dark eyes, her sexy lips, those little toes with their long toenails…and of course,
her incredibly long fingernails. He remembered every moment of the time hed spent
with her. He would always remember it. Winston decided it didnt matter that he would
never have her, he could fantasize about her and jerk off like hed always done over
every girl hed ever crushed on. That was to be his lot in life, and the sooner he accepted
it, the sooner his pain would end.
His self-pity was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Who is it?" he called, but there
was no answer, just another knock. "I said, whos there?" he called, louder, but again no
one answered. Annoyed, Winston got up and stormed to the door and opened it. There
was no one there. He looked around, and when he did, he saw another little yellow
envelope taped to his door. He snatched it off and took it inside. God, why did she have
to torture him? Winston tore the envelope open, and there was the familiar card with
pink glitter hearts and "Just A Little Note From…Megan Romano". This time there was
a note written underneath, which read: You didnt let me finish. If you had come to the
party like I asked, you would have… When Winston opened the card, the note
continued: …been the guy in my bed Sunday morning. Taped underneath it was a
wrapped condom, with a small note underneath it which read: I have one more present
for you. Call me if you want it.
Winstons heart raced, and he felt elated like hed never been before, and yet because of
his past, and his nonextistent self-esteem, he had to read her note over and over until he
was sure he wasnt possibly misinterpreting something. He dove for his cellphone and
called Megan. "Hey," she said. "Megan, I...," he started, but she interrupted him saying,
"Dont you think youd better get that?" "Get what?" he asked. "The door," she said,
and there was a knock. Winston opened the door. God she was beautiful. Megan
brushed a wisp of hair off her face with those unbelievably long nails, and when she
gently took Winstons hand, it made him shivver with anticipation, and he quickly grew
hard. "Can I come in?" she said, smiling longingly at him. Winston had never seen that
kind of look on a girls face before except in the movies, the look of desire. "S-sure," he
said, ushering her in and shutting the door behind them. Megan looked around at
Winstons room, with its neatly-made bed and carefully ordered desk. "Oh my God," she
said, "You must really think Im a complete slob!" Winston recalled the piles of clothes
and papers that littered her room. "No I dont," he protested. "Yeah you do," she
laughed, "And I am." "I guess Im a compulsive neat freak," Winston said. "Gee…I
wouldnt have guessed in a million years," she giggled. "Its really bright in here," she
said. "Yes, its better for your eyes studying," Winston informed her. "Maybe we could
have just the lamp on?" she asked sweetly. "Uh…ok," he said, and he switched off the
overhead light. Megan took her iPod out and went over to where Winstons was docked
and said, "Is it ok?" "Sure," he said. Megan replaced his iPod with hers and turned it on.
The music was slow, with a sexy back-beat, and Megan began to sway her hips and move
her arms gracefully, posing her long fingernails for him in the most seductively feminine
ways. "Dance with me, Elmo," she said softly. Winston blushed and looked at his feet
and stammered, "I cant…I mean, I dont know how…I mean, youre really good,
and…" "Just stand close to me and Ill do all the dancing," she said sweetly, beckoning
him with her hands. Nervously, Winston approached her. Megan closed her eyes and
danced close to him. "Could you put your arms around me?" she asked. Winston
encircled Megan somewhat stiffly with his arms, and she continued to dance. His heart
raced, and he felt very warm. "Hold me?" she said quietly. Winston closed his arms
gently around her. "Tighter," she whispered, and with him holding her close, Megan
continued to sway and move her body against his. Winston felt her heat, and suddenly
the reality of where this was all going, hit home. He had never been with a girl. And
now, the girl of his dreams, who had experience, was expecting him to make love to her.
Winston felt like he was going to be sick. His stomach was turning somersaults, he was
sure he would need to go take a shit. "M-Megan?" he said, his voice cracking, "Theres
s-something I have to tell you, even though its probably going to make you want to
leave, " Megan stopped dancing and opened her eyes. "Oh God," she said with a look of
fear and apprehension. "I…Im….," Winston started. "Oh God," she whispered. "Im
still a virgin," he blurted out. Megan started giggling uncontrollably, and Winston turned
beet red. Megan saw his expression and covered her mouth with her hands. "Oh no, Im
not laughing at that!" she cried, " Its just that I was afraid you were going to say that
youre gay." And she closed her eyes and squeezed herself tight to him. "Ill understand
if you dont want to now…," Winston said. "Oh, Elmo. Of course I still want to. Why
wouldnt I?" Megan said. "B-but Ive never…I mean, what if Im no good?" he said.
"Then Ill make you keep doing it, again and again," she giggled. Then she looked in
Winstons eyes and she gently scratched her amazingly long nails down both of his arms
and said, "Could you please kiss me?" Winston tilted his head and put his hands on
Megans shoulders and slowly their lips met. Never in his fantasies had Winston
imagined just how warm and soft Megans lips actually were. He felt her hands against
the sides of his face, and then her nails lightly scrape down along his cheeks and neck.
He felt her sigh softly, and then the gentle sound of their lips separating. He opened his
eyes and she opened hers, and in a second she smiled warmly. "W-was that ok?"
Winston asked, "I-I didnt know if I was supposed to use my tongue or not, so…." "It
was everything I was hoping it would be," Megan said, "Warm and gentle and sweet.
Like you." Winston just looked at her, drinking in her loveliness, and wondering what on
earth an angel like her was doing in his room. Megan closed her eyes and they kissed
again, this time longer and harder, and at the end, Megan gently eased her tongue into his
mouth, which Winston readily accepted. As they continued to kiss, Megan started to take
her t-shirt off, momentarily breaking their kiss so she could get it over her head, and she
let it drop to the floor. Then she undid her little bra and tossed it on the floor too. She
noticed Winstons pained expression when he saw her clothes on the floor and she
giggled to herself. Megan began unbuttoning Winstons shirt and opened it up, then she
ran her nails over his chest and she eased his shirt off. She held the shirt at arms length,
just out of Winstons reach, and when she let go of it she watched his eyes follow it as it
fell to the ground. But he quickly closed his eyes and sighed as he felt her warm breasts
press against his chest, and she slipped both her arms under his and reached up his back.
While they kissed again, she scratched her nails down his shoulder blades, over and over,
at first very lightly, then with increasing strength as the passion in her kiss intensified.
Winston gasped slightly, and Megan said, "Am I scratching you too hard, Elmo?" "No! It
feels wonderful!" he panted, "You can even do it harder. Do whatever you like. Your
nails are amazing." Megan rubbed her breasts against him, and Winston apologized for
not having any hair on his chest. "I like the feel of your skin against mine," she said.
"Arent you getting tired of standing up?" Megan asked, crawling onto his bed, pulling
him with her by the hand and then on top of her. They began making out and Winston
sighed as he felt Megans extremely long nails resume raking his back. Coming up for
air for a moment, Winston looked at Megan and said, "I cant believe youre into a geek
like me." "In case you didnt notice, I am kind of a geek myself . Im a little bitty
shrimp, with freakishly long nails, who collects the broken pieces in a box," she said.
"Cmon, youre amazingly hot, Megan," Winston said, "And you could have any guy you
want." "But I dont want any guy. I want you, Elmo," she said, "Any objections?" And
Megan stroked his face with her long nails and made him start making out again. She
took his hands gently and put them over her breasts, positioning his thumbs beside her
small but erect nipples. Winston looked at her. "Like this," she whispered, guiding him
to fondle her. She drew a deep breath and moaned. "Too hard?" Winston cried. "N-no,"
Megan gasped, "Just right…Its perfect," and she closed her eyes tight and smothered
him with a hot kiss, then she put her head in his neck. "That felt amazing," she
whispered, and she scraped her long thumbnail gently across his nipple. Seeing it perk
up she nibbled it with her teeth and sucked it. "That feels great!" Winston said. "Uh
huh," she smiled, guiding her nipple to his mouth. Winston took her nipple in his teeth
and nibbled it and then sucked it with the same strength that she had done to his. After a
while she guided him to her other nipple, and she softly moaned,
"Ohhhhhhh….Yesssssssss. Ohhhh, Elmo, you do that soooooo good." In a few moments
she smiled and took his face in her hands and gently stroked his cheeks with her long
thumbnails and plunged her tongue into his mouth. "That was incredible. You are so
going to get thanked right now," she giggled.
Megan started slowly kissing and licking her way down Winstons chest, and she pushed
him on his back, tracing circles with her long nails on his stomach as she kissed it. She
sat up and quickly undid his belt and put her nails under the waist of his pants and started
pulling them down. Winston gasped and grabbed her wrists but she pulled one hand free
and playfully slapped the backs of both his hands. "It wont hurt a bit, I promise," she
said, wrinkling up her nose and giggling. Winston giggled nervously, and Megan pulled
his pants all the way off, along with his socks, and dropped them on the floor. Winston
glanced over the edge of the bed at his pants slumped in a pile. He jumped when she
touched the soles of his feet with her nails. "Hmmmm, ticklish. Ill have to remember
that, in case you give me any more resistance," she winked. Megan slowly scraped her
nails up Winstons legs, and he started panting. "Mmmmmm, I think somebody wants to
come out and play," she said, pointing a long nail at the hard bulge in his white briefs.
And she quickly yanked his underpants down and off, and Winston watched them arc
through the air and land somewhere on the floor. His dick was standing straight up and
when Megan turned her head back to him she let out a little squeal. "Whats wrong?"
Winston said worriedly. Megan stared wide-eyed at his cock and gushed, "There is
definitely nothing wrong!" She crawled forward on top of him, brushing his sensitive
cock head with her long, black hair as she did, and Winston gasped and groaned. Megan
leaned down and cupped her breasts from either side, holding his dick tight between
them, and again he groaned. Megan gave Winston a lusty, evil look, and lightly
scratched his nutsack with her super-long fingernails, and she stroked his shaft gently up
and down with her pinkie nail. She looked at his cock and giggled and blew softly on it,
then she cocked her head to one side and planted a faint kiss on the side. Winston was
panting and gasping. "M-Megan! W-w-what are you doooooiiinnng to me!" he cried.
"Shhh, Elmo!" she scolded him, "This is a private conversation. " She slowly extended
her tongue and very lightly licked the rim of his cockhead, "Im making a new friend."
She opened her mouth and gently scraped his cockhead with her teeth, "Getting
acquainted." Megan wrapped her fingers around Winstons dick, like hed seen her do to
the Frappucino cup at Starbucks, and then she put her mouth over his cock head and her
cheeks indented like they did on the straw. The sensation of her hot, wet mouth on his
cockhead, combined with the suction, made his head pound. "Mmmmmmmm," she
moaned, reaching her hands up and dragging her nails down his chest and stomach, while
at the same time taking his cock all the way into her mouth and slowly backing off . She
stopped with her mouth still over his cockhead, licking her tongue around and around as
she grasped his shaft with both hands and softly scraped the underside with her long
thumbnails. Winston exploded, shooting again and again into her mouth. Megan
squealed through her nose, her mouth still clamped over his cockhead. Winston pulled
himself up, and his cock popped out of her mouth, a string of cum between her lips and
his cock. "I-Im sorry! Im sorry!" he cried over and over, his voice filled with
embarassment and remorse. "Nooooo!" Megan cried, like a toddler who just had her
bottle yanked away, and she grabbed his still-hard dick and enveloped it with her mouth
and sucked and licked it, moaning contentedly, until he was completely limp.
Megan lay down on top of Winston and kissed his chest. "Im sorry," he said quietly.
Megan lifted her head. "What do you keep apologizing for?" she asked. "You know,"
he said, "I wasnt supposed to….that wasnt supposed to happen. I must have some kind
of…of, problem." Megan rolled onto her back next to him, holding her hands over her
eyes, then she rolled back on top of him and looked into his eyes. "Your problem is, you
believe all the bullshit youve read," she said, "The only thing you need to know is, if it
feels good to both people, then its cool. I totally enjoyed doing it, did you enjoy having
me do it?" Winston said, "Well, yeah, it felt unbelievable…" "There. Thats all that
matters," she said. "Youre amazing!" Winston sighed. "Yeah. I know," Megan said,
giggling and tracing her extremely long pointer fingernail in figure-eights on his scrawny,
hairless chest. She sat up and unsnapped her jeans and wriggled out of them and tossed
them away. Winston surveyed his room, which was now littered with clothes, but his
attention went immediately back to Megan, who was sitting in a sexy pose, wearing only
a little black thong, with her legs to one side, her longish toenails painted glossy black.
Her lovely breasts peeked through the waves of long, black hair that contrasted with her
perfect alabaster skin. One hand draped over her shapely little thigh, the other rested on
Winstons, her extraordinarily long, clear, natural fingernails a feast for his eyes. Megan
leaned down along his body and stroked his neck with her nails while she nuzzled her
cheek against his. "Your face is so soft," she said. "I dont shave yet. I cant grow a
beard. Im sorry," Winston said. "Good. I have really sensitive skin and even if a guy
just shaved, it gives me a rash," Megan said, "And stop apologizing for yourself, I
obviously am into you."
Megan rolled on her side and reached back for Winstons arm and pulled it over her, so
that he spooned her. She ran her long fingernails up and down his arm lazily, and kissed
it. "Are you getting sleepy?" he asked. "Nope. I have no intention of sleeping tonight,"
she snickered, playfully biting his hand, "Or letting you sleep." Winston felt her put his
hand inside her thong. "Can you keep a secret?" she whispered. "Um…sure," he said.
"Promise youll never reveal it to anyone!" she whispered. "I promise," he said. "Ok,"
she said, taking his bony middle finger and inserting it into her warm, wet pussy, placing
the tip against her hard little bud, "Feel that?" "Y-yes," he said, trembling slightly.
"Thats my secret on button," Megan giggled, "No matter what kind of mood Im in,
you can always use it to turn me on." Winston laughed nervously. He felt Megan move
his finger against it slowly and he felt her spread her legs and begin to breathe deep and
heavy. "Just one thing you should know though," she moaned breathlessly. "What?"
Winston asked innocently. Megan sighed and scraped her nails down his arm and panted,
"Dont ever touch my on button unless you mean it, because I dont have an off
button." And she grabbed Winstons thigh with her nails and ground her ass against his
crotch, moaning louder and louder until she screamed, and dug her nails into his arm.
Winston clenched his teeth and leaned his head back hard into the mattress, but he bore
the sweet pain without a sound. She took his hand out of her thong and kissed it, then she
rolled over and kissed him.
Megan hooked her thumbs into her thong and pulled her feet through it, and tossed the
tiny scrap of silk away from the bed. She turned to face Winston and put her arm around
his back and they began making out furiously. She brought her leg up over his hip and
stroked her foot over his ass and down the back of his thigh, and then back up, curling her
toes and scraping him with her black-lacquered toenails. Her extremely long fingernails
combed through his thick hair and raked his scalp, and she scratched them across his
shoulderblades. Hotly they tongue-kissed, and Megans lips left bright red patches where
she sucked hard on his neck. She felt his rock-hard cock rub against her inner thigh, and
she let out a sharp moan, and she gasped, "I want you inside me. I want you deep inside
me, now. Please, Elmo, please, please." "Um…what about….I mean, where is…I need
to put on the…" he stammered, looking around for the envelope with the condom in it.
"Nevermind! Im on the pill," Megan gasped, "I dont have any STDs, because Ive
never done it without a condom, and I know you dont have an STD, because youre a
virgin." "Thanks for reminding me," he said. "Elmo," she whispered, "Youll be the
first guy to…you know…with nothing separating." "You are amazing," Winston said,
feeling uplifted. Megan reached down and guided his cock to her pussy. She was very
wet, and it slipped inside easily. Winston was surprised at how hot it felt, and also at the
sensation of Megans muscles contracting around his cock. Instinct took over, and
Winstons apprehensiveness over his inexperience dissipated after the first few thrusts.
Megan set the pace that allowed him to please her, scratching his back quickly with her
long fingernails when she wanted him to speed up, and digging them in when she wanted
him to slow down.
Having come already, this time Winston had much more staying power. Megans moans
and gasps got louder and faster and she orgasmed, screaming and shuddering and clawing
his back. Then she sighed deeply and held him tight and kissed him all over his neck and
face. "D-do you want me to stop?" he asked. "Of course not! Not before you cum!" she
giggled, and Winston kept going, ramming his dick into her. He could feel his cockhead
hitting bottom. "Oh my God youre incredible," she moaned into his ear, "I think Im
gonna cum again!" and she dug her long fingernails into his ass and met his thrusts with
her little hips pumping like mad. Winston felt himself start to cum, and he began
moaning louder and louder. "I-I cant hold back much longer," he gasped. "Dont.
Dont hold back. Let it go. Cum inside me, Elmo. I want you to cum inside me," she
screamed, and Winstons climax hit like a tidal wave. She kept thrusting while Winston
pumped his load into her, and for several moments after, then she raked his back with her
fingernails and screamed with pleasure as she finally came also. They fell on their backs,
heaving and panting, drenched in sweat. "Oh. My. God. That was totally, completely,
incredibly amazing!" Megan gasped. She rolled on her side and kissed Winston hard.
"No ones ever made me come twice in a row before," she panted.
Megan leaned over Winston and fished in her purse, and when she sat back up on the bed
she quickly lit a cigarette and took a deep inhale. "Ooops, Im sorry! I wasnt thinking,"
she said, waving the smoke away with her hand, and she jumped off the bed and put the
cigarette out in the dorm sink, after taking another long drag. Megan sat on her knees
next to Winston and ran her long nails through his hair and gently scraped them down his
cheek. She leaned over and kissed him hard again. She smelled and tasted from
cigarette, but somehow Winston found it sexy. "So, how dit it feel to lose your
virginity?" she smiled. "You know, I always thought the doing it part would be the
hugest part, but it turned out the hugest part was the who…I mean…that it was with
you." Megan pulled him up and put her arms around him and hugged him and kissed him
long and hard. "Elmo, Elmo, Elmo. My wonderful, sweet, incredible Elmo," she
whispered. Megan lay back against the pillow a moment before Winston, and she
gasped, "Oh my God! I cant believe what I did to your back with my nails! I scratched
you to pieces, and I dont even remember doing it! I feel awful."
"I think your nails are super sexy. I like seeing them, and I like when you use them on
me. When you scratch me kinda hard it really turns me on. Am I weird?" Winston said.
"Definitely weird,"she said, "But kinda cool. Ive always fantasized about just letting go
and scratching a guy hard with my nails during sex, but in reality, I dont like to hurt
anyone, so I try to hold back." Winston said, "Remember, you said, if it feels good to
both of us then its ok? Well, your nails feel good to me. They feel great." "Well, ok,
wow!" Megan said, "But promise youll stop me if it hurts too much?" "Sure, I
promise," Winston said, although he couldnt imagine it. Megan snuggled up to him
and he felt her rub her foot up and down his leg, and when he turned to her, she had that
look of desire on her face again. She put her hand on his chest and pressed her nails into
his skin and slowly dragged them along his ribs. "Wanna do it again?" she asked, giving
him tiny kisses on his neck. Winston started to get up. Megan pushed him back against
the bed gently. "Me on top this time, ok?" she whispered, climbing onto him. Winston
watched her, drinking in the sight of her tiny, perfect body and beautiful face, and those
unbelievably sexy long fingernails. His eyes bulged as he felt her slide up and down on
his hard cock, reaching her hands out to rake her nails slowly down his chest.
After making love a total of four times, they got about two hours of sleep before the
alarm clock rang. Megan washed up in the sink in Winstons room, and the two of them
stumbled into Wednesdays freshman English class like zombies. "Lets go back to bed
after class, ok?" Megan said, yawning. "Sleep sounds good," Winston said, rubbing his
eyes. Megan smiled and gently scratched his hand, "I said to bed, Elmo. Nothing about
sleep." Winston smiled at her, "Then, can we stop at Starbucks first? I could use a little
caffeine." They got double espressos and sat down at a table outside. Megan lit a
cigarette. "My last one, I promise," she said, making sure he saw she had her fingers
crossed behind her back. She was more beautiful, and her nails were more incredible and
long than hed ever imagined existed outside of his erotic fantasies. And she and he were
hooking up! It was more than he had ever dared to even dream would happen to him. As
they finished their coffee and stood up, a big, nice-looking guy with a goatee walked up
to Megan. It was the guy who hed seen talking to her last week when he came out of the
mens room. "Hey….Megan, right?" he said, "Listen, I was going to call you but I
accidentally smeared your number that you wrote on my hand, so…could I get it again?"
"Sorry," Megan said, stroking Winstons face with her unbelievably long fingernails, "I
have a boyfriend."
-
GENERATIONS
GENERATIONS….by R. Starkweather
The first time Jerry saw Trina he broke out in a cold sweat and his heart started to pound.
It was 8AM on a Monday at Starbucks, and all the seats were taken except one at the
small table where Trina was sitting, sipping a latte and working her iPhone. Jerry noticed
Trinas shiny black hair and deep brown eyes with thick lashes and perfectly-sculpted
brows, and he noticed her delicate, pale skin and full pink lips. But what attracted him
irresistibly to her was her hands. At first he heard the click-click-click against the screen
of her iPhone, and then he saw them. Trinas fingernails. They were natural and
unpolished, about a half-inch long. All ten nails were perfectly shaped and tapered,
obviously the result of meticulous care and effort. Clearly, she was into her nails, and so
was Jerry, who had a consuming long-nail fetish dating back to the time a little girl in
kindergarten grabbed his hands with her nails and left ten bleeding cuts that took weeks
to heal.
Normally Jerry was a shy guy. He was still struggling with the after effects of a marriage
that had ended abruptly three years earlier when his wife ran off with another man and
left Jerry to raise their seven year-old son alone. "Can I sit here?" he found himself
asking. "Sure," Trina answered, looking up. It wasnt often in the city that women made
eye contact with strange men, and she was looking straight into his eyes. And smiling.
She put her iPhone in her purse and stroked her fingers through her hair, and she
introduced herself. They started talking. Trina was a single mother too, of a six year-old
daughter. She took her iPhone out and showed Jerry a picture. "This is Lily," she said.
"She looks like you," Jerry remarked, "Shes beautiful." Right away he wanted to slap
himself for saying that, but Trina smiled and thanked him. They swapped stories of the
tribulations of single parenthood. Trina gestured with her hands when she talked, and
Jerry hoped she didnt notice him staring at them and following their every move. She
took the lid off her latte, and Jerry noticed how she did it with her fingertips, deliberately
avoiding using her nails. She opened her purse the same way, being protective of her ten
perfect natural long nails. Oh yes, she was definitely into them. Jerry realized he was
rock hard. Trina looked at her watch and said she had to get to work, excused herself and
stood up, told Jerry how nice it had been talking with him. The way she said it made
Jerry feel there was a finality to it, a subliminal message for him that she wasnt
interested in being asked out. But as she left she said, "If you get here before me
tomorrow, save me a seat, OK? And Ill save you one if I get here first." "Sure," Jerry
smiled. He realized she was interested, just wanting to take it slow.
For the rest of the week, the two of them met for coffee each morning. Trina was not
only beautiful and had the most enticing set of nails Jerry had ever seen, she was also
warm and sweet and well-adjusted. Such was a rarity in the city, especially among single
women, and definitely especially those whose romantic idealism had been crushed early
in life by divorce and single parenthood. By Thursday Jerry couldnt stand the thought
of going the weekend without seeing Trina, so he decided Friday morning he would ask
her out. "Id really like to, but I dont get a chance to spend time with my daughter
during the week, so I hate to go out on weekends," she said. "Oh. Sure. I understand.
Same with me, really. Our kids come first," he said. They looked at each other silently
for a moment. "Wait, what if we take the kids out with us?" Trina asked. "I have a better
idea," Jerry said, "What if you both come over tonight and Ill cook us all dinner?" "You
cook?" Trina exclaimed, "Its a date!"
Jerry buzzed the door open at 6PM and in a few moments there was a knock on his
apartment door. Trina was wearing a tight black knitted top and a long, flowery skirt,
with red socks and flat slippers. With her long black hair and deep brown eyes Jerry
found her astonishingly attractive. "Wheres your daughter?" Jerry asked. Trina
motioned with her eyes, over her shoulder and down. Jerry looked down and a sweet
little face poked out from behind Trinas long legs, then shyly disappeared again. "Were
a little shy," Trina said, "Its ok, just ignore her for a while and shell get over it. Then
you wont be able to get rid of her." "I wouldnt want to get rid of either of you," Jerry
said. Trina smiled and stroked Jerrys cheek with her palm. Her fingers were warm and
so, so soft. It felt so good to him to feel a womans gentle caress, it had been so long.
But he wished shed touched him with her nails, even a little. He ushered them into the
apartment, Lily still hiding behind Trina, clinging to her skirt. Jerry poured a glass of
wine for Trina and one for himself. "Would Lily like a soda or some juice?" he asked.
"Lily, would you like some juice?" Trina asked. She nodded her head, her long black
hair shimmering with each nod. Jerry brought a juice box and punched the straw into it
and offered it to Lily. "What do you say?" Trina coaxed. "Thank you," Lily said shyly.
"Youre welcome," Jerry said. Lily held the juice box with both hands, and Jerry
couldnt help but notice her nails, thinking they were rather long for a six year-old.
Something over an eighth of an inch, but her fingers were so tiny her nails looked nearly
the same proportion as Trinas. Jerry smiled to himself. Until just recently his son Adam
had insisted on getting the same haircut as Jerry. When one parent is completely absent
from a childs life, these are things you just let run their course. "Adam will be home
from batting practice in a few minutes, then we can eat," Jerry said.
Jerry introduced Adam to their guests. He was polite and well-mannered for a ten year-
old, and he offered to get a couple telephone books when he saw that Lily couldnt reach
the table comfortably from the dining room chair. Lily was visibly smitten with Adam
and proceeded to make eyes at him and flirt throughout dinner. Adam seemed to enjoy
the adoration of the puppy-lovestruck six year-old and was very attentive to her. Jerry
and Trina were both very amused by it but stifled their reactions so as not to make the
children self-conscious. Trina thanked Jerry for the meal, saying it was such a relief to
have someone else cook for her, and Jerry said he hoped it would get to be a regular
thing. "Wouldnt that be nice?" Trina asked Lily, who nodded, all the time keeping her
eyes shifted toward Adam. Trina helped Jerry clear the table and offered to help him
wash the dishes. He saw how cautiously she handled the plates and silver, trying not to
catch her nails on anything, and he told her not to worry, it was Adams job. Jerry asked
Adam if hed take Lily into his room and watch a DVD. Lily looked at Trina, who
nodded and said, "Would you like that, Lily?" and the little girl nodded and reached her
hand out to Adam, who took it. "Hey! You need to cut your fingernails!" Adam said
when Lily squeezed his hand. "Li-ly," Trina said sternly. Lily pouted. Trina glared at
her and the six year-old lowered her eyes contritely.
Jerry ushered Trina to the couch and handed her a fresh glass of wine. "To friendship,"
she toasted. Jerry looked dejected. "And whatever comes after," Trina continued. Jerry
smiled, "Ill drink to that!" "Lily has to be in bed by nine thirty, and its a half hour cab
ride," Trina said, looking at her watch, "Its already 7:30. Do you think maybe we could
we finish our wine in the bedroom?" Jerry swallowed hard. "Oh God, Im being too
aggressive, arent I?" she asked. Jerry shook his head and started to stand. Trina downed
the rest of her wine and set the glass on the end table, and she held his wrist. "I dont
usually say or do things like that," she assured him. "Me neither, so Im glad you took
the initiative," he chuckled, gulping the rest of his wine and setting the glass next to hers.
Trina smiled and stood up. She traced her fingers up his arm, using the tips of her nails.
Jerry drew a deep breath, surprised at their sharpness despite her gentle touch, and in a
split second their lips were locked together, their tongues probing deep inside each
others mouths.
The two of them stumbled into Jerrys bedroom and he fell onto the bed with Trina on
top of him. She quickly took off her blouse and bra and momentarily rose up on her
knees and kneaded her firm breasts. Her nipples hardened and stood out like bullets, and
Trina smiled at Jerrys approving grin. Then she leaned forward and they began kissing
hotly again. Trina slipped off her skirt. Wearing only her panties and red socks, she
rolled off Jerry and he quickly stripped down to his socks and briefs, and they went back
to deep kissing. The scent of Trinas sex assaulted him, and he noticed that her panties
were soaked through. His raging hard-on strained against his briefs, and Trina slipped
her foot under the elastic and pushed them down his legs, where he wriggled them down
to his ankles and kicked them off. They were both breathing hard, kissing wildly, and
stroking each others bodies. Trina rubbed her foot over Jerrys cock and he moaned.
"Do you mind if I take my socks off?" she whispered while she swept the inside of his
ear with her tongue. Trina smiled and lifted her foot and peeled off one sock. She
spread her toes and swiveled her foot. Jerry marveled at how beautiful her foot was, with
long, narrow toes and perfectly pedicured toenails, just slightly long, especially her big
toe. She peeled off her other sock and lay on top of Jerry. "Would you like to have some
fun?" she asked breathlessly, stroking her long, unpolished fingernails across his
shoulders and down his biceps. Moaning from the sensation, and overcome with desire,
Jerry just nodded quickly. Trina smiled and stroked his arm with her nails as she raised it
over his head, where she tied it to one of the bars in the headboard. Then she did the
same with his other arm. "Youre full of surprises," Jerry winked. Trina smiled. She
slid down to Jerrys feet and took off his socks, then used them to tie his feet to the
footboard. She slid off her soaked panties and sat on top of Jerrys thighs with her legs
stretched forward. "Oh shit!" Jerry said suddenly, "I just remembered, I dont have any
condoms." "Damn! Me neither!" Trina said, "And Im not on the pill or anything."
"Untie me and Ill run down to the quickie mart on the corner," Jerry said. "Maybe
later," Trina said, and she clasped his rigid cock with her hand and pressed it hard against
her mound. Slowly she started sliding herself back and forth, rubbing her clit against the
his erect shaft. Jerry felt her heat and wetness against the tender underside of his cock,
meanwhile he could watch her long, perfect, unpolished nails as she held his cock against
her with the flat of her hand. It wasnt sex but it was heavenly. Trina closed her eyes
and started breathing deeply, moaning softly, almost in a whisper. She laid her other
hand flat on Jerrys belly and started moving it around in slow circles, and as her
breathing quickened she started using her nails. Jerry moaned with pleasure, and Trina
smiled, her eyes still closed. She began moving faster against his cock, and Jerry could
feel her juices trickling down his balls. She was so amazingly beautiful, lost in her own
bliss. Her moans got louder, and suddenly she clamped his face between the soles of her
feet. Her legs were incredibly strong, and it felt to Jerry as if any moment she would
crush his head like an egg. He grunted a muffled protest but Trina was too far gone to
hear or care. She sank her long fingernails into his soft belly and scratched hard. It
burned like a branding iron and Jerry strained at his bindings and groaned in pain. Trina
started making little staccato squeals, and as her orgasm hit she dug her toenails into
Jerrys temples and dragged them slow and hard down his face and neck and all the way
down his chest as she bent her knees in reflex to the climax that pulsed through her body.
"Im so sorry!" Trina gasped, still winded from her orgasm, "Its been so long since
I…you know…I just lost control." Jerrys face felt like it was on fire, and supposed it
looked like his chest and belly, with long red scratch marks. Trina lay forward on top of
him and kissed his cheeks tenderly. "Im really sorry," she whispered, "If you want me
to go, I completely understand." She traced a long nail softly around his lips, and Jerry
sighed and said, "Of course I want you to stay." After all, he was still hard as a rock and
desperately needed release. Trina smiled and kissed him hard. Just then there was a
knock on the door and the knob started to turn. "Oh my God! Adam!" Jerry whispered,
"Quick, cover us!" Trina pulled the covers over the two of them just as the door opened.
But it was Lily, alone, without Adam. Seeing her mother in bed, Lily asked innocently,
"Mommy, are you and Adams daddy sleeping?" "Uh, no sweetheart, were just resting a
little," Trina answered, "Well go in a little while. Now go play with Adam, ok?" Lilys
face lit up and she flashed a very mischievous grin and clicked her nails together and
said, "Okay!" and she started for the door. "Lily Anne, you stop right there!" Trina
exclaimed. The six year-old stopped in her tracks. "Whats the rule?" Trina asked her.
"Hmph!" Lily said, stamping her foot. "Say it, Lily. Say the rule," Trina insisted. Lily
turned around and recited calmly, "Scratch anywhere but not the face, unless someone is
trying to hurt me." "Ok then, you can go have fun with Adam," Trina said sweetly, and
Lily skipped out the door and closed it behind her.
"Wait, what was that all about?" Jerry asked with a look of alarm. "Oh, dont worry.
Lilys fingernails are incredibly sharplike little razors, but she doesnt have enough
strength to scratch very deep. She hasnt ever left any permanent scars. She wont hurt
him badly." "No! Stop her! Call her back!" Jerry cried. He yelled out, "Lily! Adam!"
Trina kicked the covers off and rolled on top of Jerry. "If you want to worry, worry
about what my nails can do to you," she whispered, closing her sharp long fingernails
into his neck and covering his mouth with hers to muffle his cry of pain. Slowly she
released his neck from her clawlike grip and stroked his face gently with the tips of her
nails. "Thats better," she whispered. Trina pinched Jerrys nipples between her thumb
and fingernails and pulled them upward until his skin wouldnt stretch further, and then
she let them slip through her nails. The sensation of her thin, sharp fingernails scratching
his sensitive nipples was both painful and a huge turn-on, and his response was a mixture
of a cry and a moan. Trina smiled and did it again, this time pulling even harder, and
maintaining a stronger grip with her nails as she let his nipples slip through. She licked
and sucked each one in turn and blew on them, and Jerry was grateful for the cooling
sensation. "Trina, I…" Jerry began to say, but she drowned his words with a hot kiss,
and began dry-humping his rigid cock. As she became more and more excited, she began
biting on his lips, and she put one hand over his head and dug her nails into his scalp,
while she scratched his neck with her other hand, slowly, but with increasing force as her
excitement grew. Jerry yanked at his restraints, but they held fast. Suddenly Trina
inhaled and cried, "Ohhhhhh God!" and she slipped her hands under her, against Jerrys
body, and as her orgasm rolled through her, she threw back her shoulders and clawed his
sides with total abandon. They screamed together, and Trina collapsed on him, gasping
for breath. "Oh, Jerry, Im sorry, Im sorry, Im sorry," she sobbed. She lifted her head
and Jerry saw tears streaming down her beautiful face, and her look was one of sincere
apology. "I swear Im not usually like this. I promise Ill be gentler next time," she
pleaded, "If youll let me have a next time. You will, wont you? Please?" She was
showering Jerry with little kisses and stroking him very lightly with the tips of her lethal
fingernails, and he was so turned-on and needing to cum, that he simply nodded. "Oh
thank you, thank you," Trina whispered.
She planted a trail of kisses along Jerrys body until she came to his cock which was
standing erect and painfully engorged. Trina touched it everso lightly, and it jumped, and
Jerry made a high-pitched squeak. She smiled a devilish smile and bit her lower lip. She
traced the tips of her long fingernails slowly up and down his shaft, barely touching it.
Between his hypersensitivity and the extreme sharpness of her perfectly-shaped nails, the
sensation made Jerrys entire body lurch and shudder. Trina put her hand between her
legs and it came up dripping, and she rubbed her palms together to lubricate both hands.
She grasped Jerrys cock and slid each hand in turn from the base, up and off the head,
and back down, slowly. The warmth and slippery-wetness of her soft fingers was a
welcome respite after the painful electricity of her sharp fingernails. Still jerking him
slowly with both hands, Trina bent her legs at the knees and grasped his nutsack between
both her feet and gently kneaded his balls with her toes. Jerry didnt remember ever
having intercourse that was as satisfying as what Trina was doing with her fingers and
toes. Sure the feeling was incomparable, but also it was the sight of her ten unpolished,
natural half-inch fingernails, so clean and white and expertly filed, and so devastatingly
sharp that they left tracks with the slightest touch, and with very little added pressure,
drew blood. Trina smiled at Jerry. "My nails really turn you on!" she said with a
knowing nod of her head. Jerry blushed and stammered. "Its ok, Jerry. Ill tell you a
secret," Trina said, "They turn me on, too. I could sit and just admire them for hours on
end." She held one hand out and turned it slowly about, watching her nails, and watching
Jerry watch her nails. Trina felt Jerry grow even harder in her hand, and she sighed,
"Knowing my nails turn you on is a major turn-on for me too, Jerry."
Trina stared at her hands wrapped around Jerrys hard cock. Her nostrils flared and she
licked her lips. Mesmerized, she began pressing her nails in his shaft as she jerked him,
"Uh, Trina? Thats starting to kind of hurt," Jerry said, but is was as if she was in a
trance, unable to hear him. At that moment Jerry heard running in the hallway, and he
son Adam crying, "Oww! You scratched me! Owwww!" interspersed with Lilys
piercing giggles. Jerry could feel the prick of Trinas long, sharp nails on his cock
growing more painful, and when he looked he saw her nails indented into his shaft,
pushing and pulling the skin up and down, and he could see it was getting raw-looking.
"Trina! Stop!" he cried, tugging furiously at the socks shed used to tie his ankles and
wrists to the bed. She just stared intently at her hands, breathing harder and harder.
"Owwwww! Lily! That really hurts!" Jerry heard Adam yell as he bounded back down
the hallway, followed by Lilys screeching laughter. Jerry saw blood beginning to trickle
from where Trinas nails were pressed into his cock, and he pulled against his restraints
with all his strength, but the nylon socks held tight. She began to jerk him faster and
faster, her nails indented in the sensitive skin and scraping it as her hands became a blur
of motion. It felt like his dick was on fire, but in spite of it Jerry could feel himself rising
toward cumming. Trina felt his balls draw up tight under her toes and she pressed her
nails into his cock harder and jerked him furiously until he uttered a long, plaintive,
primal scream and ribbons of cum erupted into the air like a volcano. At the same time
she orgasmed too, and she fell on top of him kissing him wildly and clawing his chest
with her long fingernails.
After she caught her breath, Trina put her clothes on and shouted to Lily to get ready
because they had to leave. Jerry looked down at his raw, scratched and bleeding cock
that was now flaccid against his leg. Trina sat on the bed and leaned over and blew on
his dick, and it felt good. "Im so sorry," she said tearfully. Jerry had begun to realize
that her apologies were meaningless, and yet, irresistible. Trina ran her fingertip along
his cock, and it burned like she was pouring acid on it. "Next time Ill bring condoms
and we can have real sex," Trina said. "I think it might be a while before my dick heals
enough for that," Jerry lamented. Trina smiled, and scratched her long nails gently
through his pubic hair. Jerry winced in pain as his dick involuntarily began to get hard
again. "Maybe sooner than you think," Trina smiled as she untied his wrists. Gingerly,
Jerry put his clothes on, trying not to touch all the raw scratches. The two of them
walked into the living room, where Lily was sitting on the couch pouting. "Wheres
Adam? Its time to say goodbye," Trina said to her little daughter. "Adam locked
himself in his room," Lily said. "Did you apologize for scratching him?" Trina asked.
Lily nodded. "Good girl," Trina smiled, winking at Jerry. He and Trina shared a
lingering kiss at the door, and then Trina left with Lily in tow.
Sore all over, Jerry started for the bedroom, and then suddenly remembered about Adam.
He rushed to his sons door and knocked loudly. "Dad?" Adam called. "Yes, its me,"
Jerry said. "Is-is Lily g-gone?" Adam asked timidly. "Yes, theyre both gone," Jerry
said. Slowly the lock turned and Adam opened the door. Jerry gasped when he saw
dozens of little bleeding scratches all up and down his sons arms. "Im so sorry son,"
Jerry wept, "This wont ever happen again, I promise. Well never see them again, ever."
Adam looked pleadingly into his fathers eyes and cried, "Dad, no! I want you and her
mom to get married, so Lily can come live here. Lilys cool." Adam surveyed the claw
streaks that laced his arms and declared, "Shes got the awesomest long sharp
fingernails!"
-
GIRLFRIEND’s LITTLE SISTER
GIRLFRIENDs LITTLE SISTER…by Stryker
Chip Barker and his girlfriend Lori Haines were in their mid-twenties, in love, and had
been living together for almost a year, when Loris eighteen year-old sister showed up
one day unannounced. The doorbell rang, and Chip heard Lori squeal with excitement.
Soon she escorted her kid sister into the room. Chip looked up from the TV. Lori and her
sister looked nothing alike. Lori had short blond hair, and blue eyes---the typical girl-
next-door look. She dressed in loose, comfortable clothing and wore sneakers most of
the time. Her little sister had collar-length black hair set off by strikingly-large emerald-
green eyes, and a tiny diamond in the side of her small, perfectly-sculpted nose. She was
wearing a black t-shirt with a low v-neck, tight enough to outline the contour of her firm
breasts and hard nipples and her jean shorts hugged her flat stomach and tight ass.
"Chip? This is my little sister Cat," Lori said. "Is that short for Cathryn or Kathleen?"
Chip asked with his charming smile. "Neither. My real names Abigail," she answered.
"So…then why do they call you Cat?" Chip enquired. "Let me show you," she said with
a coy smile, looking at Lori. "No!" Lori exclaimed, grabbing for her sisters arm. Chip
looked startled and confused. "Relax, Lori! I meant show him as in here, look," Cat
laughed, holding her hands up and wiggling her fingers. Chips mouth fell open when
he saw Cats fingernails. They were a little less than an inch long, but their truly
outstanding feature was that they all curved downward from her fingertips and were filed
almost to points, like claws. Her nailbeds were quite long too, and Chip could see that
her nails were thick and strong although completely natural, devoid of any acrylic, or
even nail polish. Instinctively he sneaked a glance down her long, shapely legs to her
feet. Perched in high-heeled sandals, they revealed ten superbly feminine toes with
candy-apple-red toenails, curved slightly over the tips of her toes, and shaped so they
were longer in the center.
Lori could see Chips eyes bulging. What she couldnt see from behind the couch, was
that his crotch was bulging too. Chip knew he had a long-nail fetish, but hed never told
Lori. A nail file was her constant companion, and she would whittle away compulsively
at the slightest sign of growth. She frequently commented how "disgusting" she thought
women were who kept long nails. But Chip was indoctrinated that for true love and
happiness it mattered only what kind of person a woman was, so he smothered his lust
and longings and convinced himself that long nails werent essential to a relationship.
Chip always felt a little stir in his loins whenever he saw a woman with long, real nails,
but hed never seen nails like Cats, and, taken by surprise, got an instant and enormous
erection. "Shes had those talons since she was eleven!" Lori exclaimed. "No, thats just
when I started making them pointed," Cat corrected her, "If you remember, I started
growing them long when I was seven." Lori turned to Chip, "Everyone was terrified of
her. She used to love to scratch people, especially boys." "What do you mean used to?"
Cat laughed. Chip swallowed hard. His erection had begun to go down, but at that
moment it hardened right back up.
"Im starved," Cat said, eyeing a bowl of oranges on the coffee table. "Help yourself,"
Lori said. "Catch," Chip said, tossing Cat an orange. She caught it with one hand, and
sank her nails into it. Chip flushed with alarm at seeing how easily the points of her long,
curved fingernails punctured the thick skin, and he watched her claw it off effortlessly,
into thin shreds. The realization of just how sharp her nails were made Chips hard-on
throb. He wondered how long Cat would be staying, because seeing her nails was
quickly starting to erode the elaborate con-job hed done on himself that he could be
happy sexually with a short-nailed woman. "The only downside of these is that I cant
lick my fingers without slicing-up my tongue," Cat smiled, examining the sticky orange
pulp under her claws. Chip laughed self-consciously. "You dont believe me? Here, try
it for yourself," Cat said to him, kneeling on the couch and offering him her hand. Chip
could feel the perspiration beading up on his forehead. "Stop acting like a child, will
you?" Lori chided her, and she escorted her little sister to the kitchen sink. Chip heard
Cat quietly say to Lori, "Hes kinda hot…for an old guy." "I heard that! Twenty-five is
not old!" Chip called out. Cat giggled.
"How long can you stay?" Lori asked her little sister while Cat carefully washed the
remnants of the orange from under her long, curved fingernails. "Well…um…the thing
is, I kinda had a fight with mom and…she kinda threw me out," Cat said. "What was the
fight about this time?" Lori asked. "Moms new boyfriend," Cat replied, "The pervert
totally hit on me!" "Right. Without any encouragement from you?" Lori asked
suspiciously. "Why do you assume that I tried to seduce him?" Cat asked defensively.
"Well…lets see…maybe because thats what you do," Lori answered. "I know you
think Im a total slut," Cat snapped. Before Lori could respond, tears ran down Cats
cheeks and she whimpered, "If you want me to leave, just say so and I wont ever bother
you again." At that, Chip jumped to his feet and said, "Lori! Shes your sister and shes
only eighteen. You cant turn your back on her!" "Oh, believe me, I know that for a
fact!" Lori said with a hint of irony. "Youve always been jealous that Im hot and men
want me," Cat sobbed. "Might I remind you that you hit on every one of my boyfriends
starting when you were only fourteen!" Lori said. "I cant help it if I developed early,"
Cat said, "And anyway I was just teasing them. I never actually took one away from
you." "No, you just made it so when they were having sex with me, I knew they were
pretending I was you," Lori said. "OMG! They did?!" Cat squealed with obvious delight,
then she quickly forced a remorseful look and repeated, "I mean, OMG, they did? Im
so, so sorry if I hurt you. I was just a stupid kid back then." Lori sighed. "You dont
have to worry about me taking Chip away from you," Cat said. "Damn, Abigail, you are
so arrogant! Chip and I have a true love relationship, something you wouldnt
understand," Lori exclaimed. "Whatever you say," Cat said with a wry grin. "Hey, Im
right here, in the room," Chip reminded them. Lori gave in and told her little sister she
could crash with them as long as she needed. Chip knew it was the right thing for Lori to
do, but he hoped Cat was sincere when she said she wasnt going to try seducing him.
Judging by the way his dick responded to her innocent use of her nails, he knew he could
be in serious trouble if she were to purposely set her sights on him.
Chip discovered that first night that it was all he could do to survive just being in the
same room with Cat. Not only did she merit her nickname on account of her
unbelievable curved claws, everything else about her was equally catlike…her green
eyes, the way she carried herself, even the timbre of her voice was like a soft purr. She
walked lightly and silently on bare feet, and when she sat she curled herself up gracefully
with her legs under her. Just making casual conversation with Chip she would sit next to
him so some part of her was touching him, and stare straight into his eyes. "I always
wanted an older brother like you," she told him, which was somewhat reassuring, if
secretly a little disappointing to his ego. "Wait, you do have an older brother," Chip
realized and reminded her. "Yeah, but he was always being a total asshole toward me,"
Cat said. Chip grinned. "Of course then I would scratch him," Cat said with a hiss,
raking her curved, pointed fingernails down quickly through the air just in front of Chips
face. His dick felt as though it would burst through his pants, and he swallowed hard and
forced a nervous chuckle. Chip felt her warm, soft hand rest on his hand. Then he felt
her sharp claws very lightly prick him, and she stroked them gently and slowly in circles
on the back of his hand. "But youre cool," Cat said, purring again. She leaned in and
gave him a light kiss on his cheek. "I like you…a lot," she said as she got up, lightly
scraping her claws all the way up his arm. Chip almost came in his pants. As Cat walked
away, Chip glanced at his arm and despite her feather-light touch, her sharp fingernails
had left four long, thin white lines. He quickly rubbed them, hoping they would fade, but
instead they started to turn pink. "Shit!" Chip muttered to himself, and he went quickly to
the closet and put on a long-sleeved shirt so Lori wouldnt see.
As the days passed, Chip found himself becoming more and more infatuated with his
girlfriends little sister. He would become aroused at the mere sight of Cat and her long,
curved, pointed fingernails, plus she would do and say things---with seeming innocence--
-that made him get even harder. She frequently filed her nails while they were watching
TV, and whenever she caught Chip eyeing her she would ask innocently, "Does this
bother you? If you say so, Ill go in another room to sharpen my claws." One time he
jokingly asked her if shed like him to get her a scratching post, and she nodded and
winked, "Make sure hes hot-looking." Cat also would click her nails on hard surfaces
and scrape them across fabrics. Again, Chip couldnt tell if she was doing it innocently
because her nails were so long and curved, or purposely for effect. But regardless, he
was almost constantly erect whenever Cat was around him. Chip was relieved for the
sake of his relationship that Lori still didnt quite trust her little sister around her man,
and therefore didnt leave them alone in the house. Chip was also relieved that Lori
hadnt put two and two together as to why their sex life had coincidentally doubled in
frequency and intensity since Cat had been staying with them.
One night Lori got home from work and told Chip her boss insisted everyone in her
department go to a Saturday trade show in another city. The show started at 8AM so they
would have to drive up Friday afternoon and stay overnight. When Chip got home that
Friday, Cat met him at the door wearing makeup and a sexy little black dress, and she
insisted that since Lori wasnt home to cook dinner, they should go out to eat. Chip was
happy to oblige, since he wanted to spend as little time as possible home alone with his
girlfriends seductive long-nailed little sister. They had a pleasant dinner, at least as
pleasant as it could be for Chip, whose eyes followed her curved talons the entire time.
Then Cat suggested they stop at the bar. Even though the legal drinking age was eighteen
in that state, there didnt seem to be anybody there much under twenty-five, but that
didnt stop Cat from flirting with guys to get them to buy her drinks. In a short time she
had a pretty good buzz, and hadnt paid for a single drink herself. Not wanting to cramp
her style, Chip drifted over to a pool table and struck up a game. Suddenly he heard a
commotion behind him, and when he turned around, Cat was facing off with a
thirtysomething bottle-blond with huge boobs bulging out of a low-cut blouse two sizes
too small for her. The woman was drunk and belligerent and accused Cat of messing
with her boyfriend, and she began shoving her. Chip pushed his way through the
gathering crowd, but just as he got to them, the blond took an open-handed swing at Cat.
With lightning-like reflexes, Cat caught the womans arm, her pointed fingernails easily
puncturing her skin, and the woman screamed. In the same instant, Cat lashed out with
her other hand and clawed the womans boobs, leaving five thin scratches that began to
ooze. The woman screamed again, "Oh fuck! You bitch! Im bleeding!" "If Id
scratched you as hard as you deserved, youd be leaking silicone," Cat sneered. She let
go of her arm and the blond ran crying to the ladies room. At that moment the womans
boyfriend shoved through the crowd and confronted Cat. Chip got between them and the
boyfriend took a swing at Chip. Chip ducked, and in the second before he stood back up,
Cat raked her nails swiftly down the mans face. Chip heard the man scream, and when
he looked, the guy was covering his face with both hands and there was blood dripping
between his fingers. By that time the bouncers had shoved through the crowd and Cat
yelled, "Run!" as she and Chip took off for the door.
Chip slammed the car in drive and peeled out of the lot and onto the street. "OMG that
was awesome!" Cat exclaimed. Chip pulled over and screeched the car to a stop. "Fuck!
You almost got us beat-up and arrested!" he screamed, his heart pounding like a
jackhammer. "Yeahhhhhh!" Cat purred, and suddenly she leapt onto Chips lap and
plunged her tongue into his mouth. He squirmed and protested but he felt the sharp
points of her nails prick his scalp and he held still until she was done kissing him.
Breathless, Cat sat back in her seat. "Im sorry, I know I shouldnt have done that. You
wont tell Lori, will you?" she said. Chip swallowed hard. "I think we need to get you
home and sobered up," he said. Cat slouched down in her seat. "Im not a little kid," she
said with a note of defiance, "And Im not that drunk either."
Back at the house, Chip put a pot of coffee on to brew. Cat docked her iPod into the
home stereo and put on some techno music. "Lets dance!" she shouted to Chip over the
thundering music. "I dont feel like it. And jeez, turn that shit down, will you!" Chip
shouted. "I will if you dance with me!" Cat yelled. "One dance," Chip yelled. "Well
see," she said, "Hey, youre not bad!" "You mean, for an old guy of twenty-five?" Chip
asked sarcastically. Cat giggled drunkenly. Finally Chip turned the music down to
where they could talk over it at normal conversation level, and he sat down on the couch.
"Eww, gross!" Cat said, wrinkling-up her nose and pointing at Chips shirt which was
soaked down the middle, front and back. Chip hastily unbuttoned his shirt and started to
get up. "Where are you going?" Cat asked, plopping herself down with her back to the
arm of the couch. "To change my shirt," Chip replied. "Youll just sweat-up the new
one. Just take it off. Were practically family," Cat said. "Do you always kiss your
family like you kissed me in the car?" he asked sarcastically. "I said I was sorry. It was
pure adrenaline," Cat said. "Is it all used-up now?" Chip asked. "Yup. Im totally
crashing," Cat said, kicking off her shoes. She folded her legs indian-style, then she put
her feet against Chips thigh. "Theyre really hot and sore. Rub them for me?" she
asked. Chip grimaced. "Oh, come on!" she cajoled him. Chip took a deep breath.
"Mmmmmm, youve done this before!" Cat purred as Chip massaged her soft feet, "Im
totally jealous of Lori." Chip laughed, "Lori? Are you kidding? Your sister hates having
her feet touched. In fact she hates having m even look at them. She sleeps in socks.
Thinks her feet are ugly." "I think my feet are hot," Cat said. Chip didnt say anything.
"Do you think my feet are hot?" Cat asked. "And sweaty," Chip answered. Cat kicked at
him. "You know what I mean," she smiled. Again Chip didnt respond. "So? Do you?"
she prodded. "I guess youre not going to be satisfied until I compliment your feet, eh?"
Chip said. "Youd need to do more than that to satisfy me," Cat giggled. "I better see if
that coffee is ready," Chip said sternly. "Im sorry. Ill behave," Cat said. After a
moment of silence she asked very quietly, "So, you still havent said if you think my feet
are sexy." "As feet go, yours are very pretty," Chip said, looking at Cats feet. She
spread and flexed her toes. "Admit it, theyre sexy as hell," she said. The sight of her
curved, tapered red toenails made his dick jump, and he took a deep breath. Cat bit her
lip and stifled a giggle. Chip thought it was in response to her own comment, but he
tracked her gaze to his crotch. His pants were tented-up ridiculously, and he turned red.
Cat pulled her feet back slowly, and stretched her arms gracefully, in her catlike way.
With one hand she stroked her sharp, curved nails along Chips bare arm, and with the
other hand she stroked her nails down his chest. Chip couldnt help moaning from the
sensation of her razor-sharp nails gently caressing him, and the sight of the thin, pink
lines they left made him get even harder. Chip panicked and squirmed but before he
could get away she was on him, holding his face in her hands, her lips closing in on his.
He gripped her wrists firmly, but she pressed the points of her long fingernails into his
cheeks and whispered ominously, "You dont want to try resisting me. Seriously." Chip
knew if he pushed her off hed end up with his face sliced open by her sharp claws, and
he relaxed his grip. Cat sighed deeply when their lips met, and she purred contentedly as
Chip surrendered and began returning her kiss.
Cat struggled out of her blouse. "Do you like them?" she asked, thrusting her gorgeous
boobs in Chips face. "Y-yeah," he stammered. "Show me how much," she said, feeding
Chip her hard nipple. Cat threw back her head and moaned while Chip sucked her
nipples, and then she rubbed them against his bare chest as she kissed and licked her way
down to his waist. Kneeling on the floor in front of him, Cat opened his belt and clawed
at his briefs. The fabric tore apart easily under her razor-sharp nails, and his cock sprang
free. Cat wrapped her hand around his shaft and slowly began to take him deep inside
her mouth. "Ok, but just a blowjob. We cant have sex," Chip panted. "Aww, thats so
cute. You think you have a say in the matter," Cat laughed. She gripped his thighs with
her nails and Chip jumped. "Please be careful!" he pleaded, "If you leave marks Lori
will know." Cat raised her head and stared at him. Suddenly she reached up and swiped
both hands swiftly across his stomach. Chip screamed as blood pooled in the eight long,
thin crimson gashes. "There. Whats done is done. Now you can relax and enjoy the
rest of the night," Cat said nonchalantly, and she took his cock inside her mouth again.
Chip stared at the bleeding scratches on his belly and tried to figure how he could hide
them from Lori, but the sensation of Cats lips and tongue on his cock made it impossible
for him to think straight. She cupped his balls with her curved, pointed nails, and stroked
them gently along his shaft while she sucked his cockhead. "God, your nails are so
sharp," Chip groaned. "Claws," Cat hissed, "Call them claws."
After what seemed like an eternity, just as Chip was on the brink of cumming, Cat stood
up and took his hand. With the points of her long, curved fingernails pressed
uncomfortably into his arm, she effortlessly compelled him to get up and she led him to
the bed he shared with her sister. They stood at the bedside and Cat pulled Chips face to
her breasts. She loved having her nipples sucked, and she moaned aloud and threw her
head back. She was standing with her feet on top of his, and as her pleasure mounted, her
toes curled and she dug her toenails into him. "Christ, even your toenai---I mean, toe-
claws---are sharp as knives!" Chip gasped. "If I didnt ever have to wear closed shoes
Id grow them really long, and pointy, like my finger-claws," Cat said, clutching her
fingernails into Chips ass. She felt his cock stiffen against her leg, and she pulled him
down on top of her into the bed.
"Fuck me now," Cat hissed into Chips ear. Chip yanked open the nightstand drawer
and rummaged for a condom and tore the wrapper with his teeth. With shaking hands he
managed to get it on his throbbing erection, and but Cat slipped her curved, pointed
pinkie nail underneath the bottom of the condom and sliced it up and off him in one flick
of her finger, and she laughed. "Whatd you do that for?" he cried, "I dont think I have
another one." Cat said nothing, she just wrapped her legs around him and gripped her
pointed nails into his ass and compelled him to enter her. She sank her teeth into Chips
shoulder and dug her sharp pointed fingernails deep into his ass. Cat moved as if she had
no spine, and the pleasure dulled Chips pain. "Im gonna cum any second," he cried.
Cat laughed, and she reached up and dug her claws into his back and dragged them down
hard and slow. Chip wailed in pain and almost lost his erection. "Still feel like youre
gonna cum?" Cat asked. "Fuck!" Chip cried. Cat slipped out from under Chip and
pushed him on his back. "I like to be on top," she said, impaling herself on his rock-hard
dick. Cat shuddered, and she slapped her hands on Chips chest and raked her pointed
claws swiftly down to his waist. "Aaaaaaagggggh!" Chip screamed. Cat dug her nails in
under his arms and raked his sides. "Fucccckkkkk!" he bellowed. Chip felt like his body
was on fire. He looked down and saw the series of long, thin, bleeding tracks. "Shit!
OMG, Cat!" he cried. "In bed, Im more like a panther," she laughed, and as another
orgasm began to overtake her, she raised her hands and curled her fingers to strike again.
Chip grabbed for her arms, but she moved like lightning and pinned his hands over his
head, against the pillow. Cat slinked her tongue inside Chips mouth, muffling his
painful cries, as she dug her curved, pointed fingernails into his arms. She held him like
that for what seemed like an eternity, slowly screwing herself against him and climaxing
again and again. Whenever she felt like Chip was on the verge of cumming, she would
bring him back from the brink by digging her nails in harder.
Finally Cats orgasms became weaker as she approached her limit of sexual satisfaction.
She rolled Chip on top of her and urged him to fuck her fast and hard. When she felt him
beyond the point of no return, she clawed his back again and again with her long,
pointed fingernails while he shot his load inside her. "Oh my God! Look what you did!"
Chip wheezed, looking at the blood-stained sheets, and the long, crimson gashes on his
body that throbbed and burned. "Um…ok. So?" she said dryly. "So?! So Loris going
to throw me out!" he cried. "Be honest," Cat said, "Would you really want to screw my
sister again…now…after me?" Chip had a pathetic, resigned expression. Cat stared into
his eyes and licked her lips. "Now that weve settled that…lets see how soon can you
get it up again," she purred, stroking her long, curved, pointed claws lightly along his
cock, which began to grow and harden to the sharp sensation.
-
Her Lair
Her Lair…by R. Starkweather
Glen spent eight months of the year on the road. It was a grueling, exhausting existence
spent shuttling between airports, hotels, convention centers and corporate headquarters,
permanently fighting the effects of jet-lag in order to appear sharp and up-beat as he gave
the same boring presentations day in and day out. The worst part for Glen was that it
was a painfully lonely existence. Hed never been tremendously good-looking, and after
almost twenty years his strenuous lifestyle had begun to take its toll. All of his 47 years
showed in his face and thinning, graying hair. Everywhere he went he encountered
beautiful young women, but they werent interested in him, and the frustration threatened
to drive him into a deep depression he knew would have a negative impact on his job
performance. Glen was already terrified that his name would be on the next list of
layoffs. Experience seemed more and more to be taking a back seat to image.
Companies wanted vibrant young men to be the face of their product, and there was no
shortage of eager young bucks just waiting for the chance to step up. Glen knew if he
lost this job he would be unlikely to get another, and he was far from financially able to
retire.
At conventions there were two kinds of women: models and pros. The models only went
out with older guys if they were rich, like CEOs or upper-level VPs. The pros of course
werent choosy, and the ones that worked the conventions were classy and gorgeous, but
by the same token their rates were far beyond what Glen could afford on a regular basis.
So when Glen stopped in the hotel lounge for a quick vodka-tonic and saw her sitting at
the bar, he thought of his budget and sighed with despair. She was incredible though.
Long, lustrous black hair fell softly around her shoulders and down her back. Her eyes
were dark and sultry, and her lips were ruby-red. She wore a floor-length black velvet
spaghetti-strap gown cut low in front so it showcased her two breasts like perfect orbs
nestled against one another. Glen could tell just by looking that they were real.
Strikingly, she wore matching black velvet gloves, long ones that went up past her
elbows. He figured her for mid to late 30s, classy and well-educated. Way more than he
could afford, and yet she was so uniquely sexy he had to battle valiantly against the
overwhelming urge to throw sensibility to the wind. Then she looked up at him, and the
battle was lost.
Like a siren, the raven-haired beauty captivated Glen with a single look. Her dark eyes
penetrated his soul, and he hadnt felt his shoe touch the ground but he found himself on
the stool next to her. She held a long, thin cigarette daintily between her black-velvet
gloved fingers that struck Glen as unusually long and slender. She put the cigarette
gently between her ruby lips as the flame from Glens lighter sprang to life. The ember
turned bright orange while she took a long drag, and then she exhaled the smoke upward
and smiled. Her teeth were pearlescent white and picture-perfect, framed by her red lips.
"Hi, Im…" he started.
"Glen," she finished.
"How did you…?"
"It says so," she smiled, fondling his name tag with her gloved fingers.
Glen laughed. He became aware that the scent of her perfume had surrounded him, and
was as if it had him imprisoned. She took another drag of her cigarette and as she
exhaled up, pressed the burning end against the side of Glens glass letting the
condensation put it out with a hiss.
"Im Elaine," she said.
"Im happy to meet you," Glen replied, offering her a handshake.
"Im very happy to meet you," she answered, accepting his hand.
Elaine put her cigarettes into her little black sequined clutch and scooped it up. "Its so
public in here," she said leaning to his ear and placing a hand on his thigh. Glen felt
himself get hard instantly, and he shivered with panic. He took her gloved hand off him
and held it tenderly, and gave her a sincere but apologetic look. "I dont quite know how
to say this but…well, the economy…" he began. She looked at him slightly perplexed.
"Wait, do you think Im a hooker?" she asked.
"Oh…no…my God! Im so embarrassed. Shit! Im so sorry!"
"Its alright, really. Its a convention. It was an honest mistake."
"Let me make it up to you. Can I buy you a drink?"
"Totally unnecessary."
"Please, is there anything I can do? Just tell me!"
Elaine shrugged as she slid off her bar stool. "Im sure Ill think of something," she
smiled, slipping her gloved hand under Glens arm and gently urged him off his stool.
Once standing he was somewhat surprised that Elaine was a little taller than him, and he
glanced at the floor to reassure himself she was wearing very high heels. But her gown
brushed the floor and he couldnt see her shoes. They walked across the lobby, her on his
arm, holding it affectionately with both hands.
"Will you let me take you to dinner?" Glen asked.
"Actually I already ate," she said.
"Oh. Ok. I understand," he sighed.
"Id love to go dancing," she said brightly. Glen felt uplifted.
"Dancing it shall be, then," he smiled.
"I should change then," she said looking down at her floor-length gown.
They got on the elevator and Elaine pushed the button for the top floor. "Wouldnt you
like to keep me company while I change?" she asked when Glen pushed the button for his
own floor. He smiled. They both got out on the top floor and Elaine took her key card
from her clutch and offered it to Glen in a nod to chivalry he hadnt seen in years. He
took it from her gloved hand, swiped it in the lock, and held the door open for her. The
lights were on dimly, and Glen saw they were in a salon with couches, and nary a bed in
sight. Unlike his modest room, Elaines was an opulent suite. A stout little woman with
a bun came rushing up and relieved Elaine of her purse and in a heavy Spanish accent,
asked if there were anything she needed. "No thank you, Consuelo, that will be all for
tonight," Elaine said affably.
"Welcome to my lair," Elaine said with a seductive grin. Glen laughed.
"Ill say one thing, you sure do travel in style," he remarked, "A penthouse suite
and a personal valet!"
"The suite is pretty much a necessity, and Consuelo isnt my valet, shes a nanny. I
have twins, 4 year-old girls, who always travel with me," Elaine explained.
"Oh," Glen said quietly.
"I should have said something earlier," she said sensing Glen was taken aback.
"No, no, its ok…I like kids, really," Glen said, trying to sound convincing.
"Dont worry. Theyre not your typical kids, I assure you," she said. Glen looked
at his watch. It was after eight.
"If youre too tired to go dancing its fine, I dont mind staying in," Elaine said.
"No, Im wide awake. I owe you a fun evening," Glen replied.
"In that case, lets stay in," Elaine said, a little smile on her ruby lips. Glen
blushed slightly.
"Am I being too forward?" she asked.
"No, I…"
"Because some men dont like the woman to be the aggressor," she observed.
"Its ok."
"In fact it intimidates some men so much they cant perform," she said.
"You dont intimidate me," he laughed.
"Thats because Ive been trying not to," she said. Her expression was dead
serious, and Glen felt a surge of adrenaline. Elaine grasped his necktie loosely in her
black velvet glove, and led him through a small hallway off the salon, and into the master
bedroom. Elaine flipped on the lights, and Glens eyes took a moment to adjust after the
dim salon. The covers were folded down on the king-sized brass bed, and Elaine smiled.
She stroked her black-gloved hand across his forehead, embraced him and kissed him.
Her first kiss was tender and brief, but the second one that quickly followed was hot and
urgent. Her third kiss left Glen weak-kneed and breathless.
"Youre really something else!" he panted.
"Something else…yes, I imagine you could put it that way," Elaine mused,
slipping Glens suit jacket off and undoing his tie. She began trying to unbutton his shirt,
but seemed to be having trouble on account of her gloves. Glen gently brushed her hands
aside, remarking again how long her fingers seemed, and he unbuttoned himself. Then
he brushed her gown straps off her shoulders, but she gently stopped him when he
reached behind her for her zipper.
"Sit down," she said in a soft but commanding voice. Glen complied. Elaine
helped him out of his shirt. "Lie back," she whispered. Glen swung his legs onto the bed
and rested his head on the pillows. Elaine opened the nightstand drawer and took out
some nylon scarves. Smiling warmly she tied first his left wrist and then the right to the
brass headboard rail. Glen watched with amusement and anticipation as Elaine removed
his loafers and socks, then his trousers and boxers. He was hard as a rock, and they
exchanged coy glances for a moment, but then Elaine placed the covers demurely across
his midsection.
"Should I be worried?" he asked, only half-joking, when she began to tie his ankle
to the brass footboard.
"Yes," she answered candidly, but she flashed an amiable smile and his alarm
dissipated, and he allowed her to spread his legs apart and tie his other ankle to the rail.
"I wouldve never guessed you as being into kinky little games," Glen remarked.
"Games?"
Elaine walked quickly out the door. Glen strained to lift his head off the pillow. He
didnt know what was going on, but suddenly wondered if perhaps she had enticed him
up there with the intention all along of getting retribution for him having mistaken her for
a call girl. Perhaps she was planning to leave him there to be found by the housekeeper
in the morning. He felt like a fool for having let himself get played, but then again
decided it was worth it just for those steamy kisses shed given him. Glen chuckled to
himself and lay his head back. Just then the door opened. Elaine was back, standing in
the doorway with identical little raven-haired twin 4 year-old girls on each side of her,
dressed in identical black velvet pajamas. Elaine stroked their long black hair as they
looked on with complete dispassion.
"Sweethearts, this is Glen. Say good evening to him," Elaine said to the twins in
that overly-sweet voice mothers use when introducing their young children to a stranger.
"Good evening," the 4 year-old twins said perfunctorily, in perfect unison, with no
change in their dispassionate facial expressions, like programmed dolls.
"Glen, these are my daughters, Katrina and Tabitha," Elaine said.
"For Gods sake Elaine, Im undressed!" Glen exclaimed, tugging at his binds.
"Kitty and Tabby," Elaine continued, ignoring his embarrassment.
Elaine ushered the 4 year-olds into the room, where they stood stick-straight on either
side of the bed, with their hands behind their backs and their dark eyes riveted to Glen.
Glen looked from one girl to the other, who each stared unblinking until he had to turn
away.
"N-nice to meet you, girls," Glen said, blushing, and continued hopefully, "I
suppose its your bedtime, right? Well, sweet dreams." Both girls looked up
simultaneously at Elaine. She just smiled and shook her head.
"Whats going on, Elaine?" Glen asked anxiously.
"Patience," she said softly, "Kitty and Tabby are just going to…tenderize you a
little for me."
"Whats that supposed to mean?" Glen asked, turning his head from side to side
quickly, looking suspiciously at the two little girls.
"Its a mothers duty to teach her cubs," Elaine said.
"Cubs?" Glen repeated, glancing at the two adorable little 4 year-old girls.
"Thats what baby panthers are called," she said.
"Panthers?" he repeated with even more confusion. Elaine nodded once at her
daughters, and they began to climb onto the bed. Glen glanced down, relieved that his
private parts were still covered.
"Elaine! This is so wrong on so many levels. Enough is enough!" Glen exclaimed.
Kneeling on either side of Glen, the little twin girls looked to their mother. The twin girls
looked again at Elaine, and with her nod of approval, raised their little hands with tiny
fingers spread and curled, and in unison they bared their teeth and hissed at Glen. It was
at that moment that Glen noticed with shock that Kitty and Tabby both had very long
fingernails, and which had been expertly filed to sharp points!
"Sharpen your claws, my darlings! Feel their power!" Elaine commanded with
exuberance.
"I dont know who or what you people are, but I want to leave!" Glen shouted.
"Not yet. Not for a while," Elaine said.
"Let me go! Aiiee! Shit!" Glen cried as twenty tiny, sharp-pointed fingernails dug
into his chest and tore across, leaving trails of needle-fine bleeding scratches. Then the
twins dug their little pointed fingernails simultaneously into each of Glens shoulders and
slowly scratched all the way down his arms. .
"Owwwww! Stop them!" he cried to Elaine.
"It wouldnt be right to stop them. Its their natural instinct," she said. Just then
both little girls stabbed their sharp-pointed fingernails into Glens thighs and clawed the
length of his legs. Even though they were only 4 and not very strong, the girls nails
were sharp as razors and despite leaving only fine, superficial marks, they were
extremely painful, like paper cuts. Glen cried out and tears ran from his eyes. Kitty and
Tabby stretched out alongside Glen on either side. His eyes widened when he saw they
also had long, sharpened, pointed toenails that they began to rake his thighs and shins.
The little girls legs were surprisingly strong, and especially the gouges made by the
pointed nails on their big toes were excruciatingly painful. Elaine hugged herself and
sighed loudly each time Glen screamed, and the girls would look to her and she would
smile and nod. Fueled by their mothers approval, the 4 year old twins began clawing
Glen faster and harder, until they were wild with childish fury. Glens screams of pain
were almost as high-pitched as their shrieks of excitement. In unison the little twins
grinned at him. Or, thats what he thought at first. Quickly he realized they were bearing
their teeth.
"Feast, my angels! Feast on your prey!" Elaine declared. Oblivious to Glens
wails of pain, the twins bit hard, leaving bleeding imprints of their sharp little teeth all
along Glens legs and arms, while they clutched with their sharp-pointed fingernails and
toenails to keep him from thrashing.
"Kitty. Tabby. Thats enough, sweethearts," Elaine announced suddenly. Both
girls instantly stopped clawing and biting, and they slipped silently off the bed and stood
staring at him with the same dispassionate expression.
"You did a wonderful job! Mommy is so proud. Now say goodnight to Glen and
go off to bed," Elaine commanded.
"Goodnight," they both said in perfect unison, turned and padded quietly for the
door.
"Make sure you clean your claws before you go to bed," Elaine reminded them
patiently, "Underneath too."
"Youre insane!" Glen cried, "Look what your sick kids did to me!"
"Cubs," Elaine corrected him calmly.
"Fuck! Untie me! Let me go!" Glen shouted.
"Dont you want to make love to me anymore?" she asked sounding genuinely
hurt. Glen was speechless.
"Are you fucking serious? Look at me!" he implored. Elaine scanned the hundreds
of long, red scratches and bloody bite marks her daughters had left, and she hugged
herself and licked her lips.
"My cubs are learning well," she sighed with satisfaction, "By the time theyre
grown, after years of diligence and dedication, their limbs will be more agile and
powerful than any humans, and their teeth and claws will be as strong and sharp as
sabers…"
"Youre fucking out of your goddamn mind!" Glen cried.
"…And theyll experience the fullness of the gift Ive given them…the ability and
desire to rend men's flesh…to appreciate the irony…"
"What in hell are you??!"
"…that their most supremely feminine feature, their lovely long nails, are in fact
their most destructive weapons, that can quickly reduce even the strongest male to a
bawling, begging, blood-soaked, vanquished prey."
"Youre certifiably insane, you know that? Let me loose!" Glen yelled, pulling at
his binds with all the strength left in his scratch- and bite-covered arms and legs. Elaine
reached behind her back and unzipped her gown and let it fall softly to the floor.
"Tell me you dont want to fuck me and Ill let you go," she said in a low, sexy
whisper. Throbbing from his wounds, Glen looked up at Elaine with hatred burning from
his eyes. She was wearing only platform heels, black silk stockings held by lacy garters,
and her long, black velvet gloves. Her body was miraculously perfect. Feminine yet
muscular, taut and lean. Her breasts were firm and luscious, her long, black hair flowed
sensuously over the curves of her shoulders. Elaine shifted her weight subtly from one
hip to the other.
"You want me, dont you," Elaine taunted. Both their eyes were on the large tent
in the covers still draped across his middle. She snickered as she stepped out of her
shoes and crawled onto the bed and sat next to him. She swept the covers off, revealing
Glens dick standing like a flagpole. She swung her leg over and rubbed his thigh,
causing him to grimace from the sting of the scratches her little girls had left, and she
laughed. She caressed his balls with her black-silk clad toes, eliciting a deep moan from
him.
"Tell me you want me," she purred, stroking his shaft with the side of her silk-
stockinged foot.
" I…I…"
"Say it," she whispered.
"I want you," Glen mumbled.
"I cant hear you."
"I want you!"
"Louder!"
"I WANT YOU!!" Glen cried.
Elaine sighed, stretching with the sinewy movement of a cat. At the end of the stretch, all
at once ten long, glossy, sharp-pointed toenails tore out through her black silk stockings,
and ten staggeringly long pointed fingernails sliced out the tips of her black-velvet
gloves. "And I want you," she smiled, gracefully bringing her twenty sharpened talons in
contact with his naked skin.
-
Heroe and Carmen
heroe and carmen1
"Hello, Here - away! OMG!! what have you done?" I gasped in surprise. Over the summer holidays her fingernails had grown from just over her fingertips to easily over an inch long. Her nails were painted clear, but they were so white they looked as if she had a french manicure. They were shaped into a wicked square, with sharp, pointed edges.
"What's wrong?" she asked. "I know, I know, I've never had long nails before. But my dad's gone away on business for a whole year!"
"Really?" I asked, gasping away at her beautiful talons. They looked very hard and strong.
"yeah. my dad's Japanese, but my mum's cambodian" she replied "she said when she was my age her nails were longer than this" Oh my gosh I thought. Heroe was vixen in the making.
"So how come you never grew your nails before?" I asked.
"Oh, my dad doesn't like them on me" she replied "But now that my dad's gone for a little while......." she said, examining her talons. Heroe's nails curved down, and they looked like razors, at least that's what they looked to my 15 year old eyes anyways
"Do you like them, Chris?" she said, spreading them out to me as if she wanted me to examine them. OH, MY GOSH! I thought. They looked spectacular. They looked so solid, so hard and strong. Especially with their extremely square shape with a razor sharp edge
"Gosh, Here - away, they look so beautiful" I gasped "Do you know how strong are?"
"My mum says that my nails are much strong than hers ever was"
"yeah, right!"
"It's true! My mum's broken her nails really easily, even without doing anything. I can tear apart fruits with mine!". Heroe started to tap her talons on the table. The clicking sound her nails made on the table confirmed with me how strong her talons were.
"What, can you tear apart with your nails?"
"My mum caught me digging my nails into an apple"
"How did you do that?"
"I just wanted to find out how strong my nails were" she said, making a claw with her hand. "That's when my mum caught me. She was surprised at what I was doing. She said she never did what I did with that apple. when she left I absolutely tore it apart"
"Gosh, you make it sound like it's so easy"
"Oh, yeah! I can obliterate anything with my fingernails!"
"So apples are no problem for your nails huh?" I asked.
"Oh, yeah" she said, as if she was surprised I doubted her at all "I can tear apart an apple in 30 seconds flat with my nails"
"I don't believe you" I gasped.
"You don't have to believe me" she said "I know I can do it"
"I know" I said "They look so strong"
"Thanks" she said, examining her nails.
I continued to eat my lunch with her. She was a loner type girl, and I guess I'm one of her only friends. I can't believe I have the previlage of talking with her. Never in a million years did I imagine her growing her fingernails out. But now that she had, they looked so amazing. But there's a bit of a catch: Her father will be back, and I guess that as soon as he does, her claws would all disappear. I hope they don't but I think that's the way it's gonna be. I need to enjoy her talons while they last! I looked at her eating away at her apple. I get the sense that she doesn't want to do anything rash to break her nails, which is just as well. i don't want her to lose any of those talons, if it was possible for her to break them. They looked so strong from where I was looking. She smiled at me every now and then. She never really talked to me if she really didn't need to. I feel like she is more comfortable keeping to herself most of the time.
"Hey, I'll see you later, Chris" she waved as she packed up her bag and carried it off.
"Hey, w-wait for me!"
"O-oh you don't have to....."
"nonesense Here - away...."
"It's Hee - ro - way! It's Japanese!"
"so terribly sorry" I said, sarcastically
"I'll scratch you if you're not careful"
"you really shouldn't scratch me at all"
"Yeah, why's that?" she asked
"Errr.... you might snap one of your nails" Heroe stopped and smiled at me
"Do you really want to know how strong my nails are?"
"Yep, of course"
"Why?"
"Because they're very nice" I replied, trying to hide my affection for them.
"Really? Thanks" she said, forming a claw with her hands and examining them. They were so beautiful. I took note of the elegant way she had shaped her nails into a perfectly square edges. They shined brightly against the afternoon sun. I wondered how fantastic it would look french manicured, but they looked so elegant the way they were.
"Well, if you must know" she began "They're pretty strong. They're much stronger than my mum's...... and I think they're a little bit stronger than my sister Carmen's nails"
"your sister has long nails as well?"
"mmhhmm" she nodded "she's got the same length nails I do, except my dad let her have long nails a long time ago"
"Wow" I gasped. Another vixen in the house
"She can tear apart apples as easily as I can with my nails, though. Her last boyfriend was only with her a couple of weeks because he couldn't stand her scratching him all the time"
"She likes scratching??" I asked, feigning surprise. I just love it when I see girls with long, hard fingernails, or if girls start talking about how strong and sharp her nails are
"Oooh yeah" she replied, smiling. "You should have seen him. He was covered with welts everywhere"
"Do you enjoy scratching people?"
"Naa.... that's my sister's thing" she replied "I like tearing things apart with mine"
We walked to our classroom for our first lesson. I sat next to her. she seemed so focused, so determined. That's what attracted me to her in the first place. She was an a grade student, focused on her work, but I was surprised how much she was talking about her nails. It must be new for her. She must feel excited being able to do something new. I was watching her nails every now and then, how she wrote with them. Occassionaly she would outspread her fingernails to flatten the pages with her palm so she could write on it. Her nails looked so strong outpread on the pages, she looked like she could shred her book with them.
"Hey Chris!" I snapped out of my trance as I looked back into Heroe's eyes. I've never noticed her eyes behind her black glasses. They looked like pools of blackness, and you seemed like you can get lost in them.
"What!?" I snapped.
"We're finished you know!" I looked around and noticed that everyone was just about out the door. I hurriedly grabbed my bag and headed out the door with her.
"Look, um, I've got classes that are different from you from the rest of the day" she began "Do you want to meet up againat my house later to study for this?"
"OK" I replied. I couldn't believe it. All this time I've been coming to her house to study, But this time I think I will be coming in more to admire her fingernails more than anything else.
heroe and carmen2
all through the day I was fantasising about Heroe's elegant, strong fingernails. I wish I could hold them now and admire them. She seems so keen to show me how strong they were. Maybe I should bring along something that she could tear apart with her nails. Maybe something hard, like a pear or apples, but she says that she can tear those apart. Maybe she'll have something there.
All through the day I could't stop thinking about her fingernails. I don't really know why, but everytime I thought about how elegant. strong and sharp they were, and what damage she could do with them, my stick would start bulging in my pants, and would stay up for a long while. I was able to keep it up for longer than an hour during my lunch break. I didn't see Heroe that lunchbreak, but I knew where she was. She would be in the library, studying away at the stuff she would have learnt. Gosh, she was a nerd. I wasn't much better, but I do prefer studying in the oval.
At the end of school, I got onto my bike and started riding home. I was building up my anticipation at seeing her nails more and more during that study time. as I turned to go out of the school, I saw Heroe getting into a red Honda sportscar. It was really low to the ground, and it had a massive spoiler in the back. It looked like it was on of those high performance cars like in the movie "Days of Thunder" As I rode up, pretending not to see, I heard the car idle slightly forward. It's engine sounded like it was a very muffled v8 engine. I heard the electric windows wind down.
"Chris!" the voice sounded familiar. I stopped and looked. It was Heroe. There was a beautiful girl in the driver seat. Her hair was draped down like a beautiful black silk on either side of her face. She wore a red cardigan. She had the most beautiful smile. But I could see long, red fingernails resting on her stearing wheel. they were perfectly square as well, but they shone brightly also in the afternoon sun. I was fixed on them for a moment until I snapped back to reality.
"Hey!" I called out to Heroe. I dragged my bike towards her.
"This is my sister, Carmen" she said. Carmen waved at me, and I waved back. I felt a funny feeling, like a cross between danger and extreme excitement, when I saw underneath her fingernails for a second. Heroe was right. Carmen's nails looked absolutely rock hard and so strong, especially in the deep red colour they were painted. With nails like those I could easily see her tearing apples apart.
"I'll see you later, Chris? Tonight again?"
"yep, I'll be there" I smiled. I looked at Carmen a second time and she waved again. giving me that really funny feeling again. As the car pulled off the road, I realised that my stick was absloutely rock hard. I didn't know what was going on, though.
When I got home, I watched a little bit of TV, and then got ready for the ride to Heroe's house. I don't know why I was pulsating with excitement, or feeling rather nervous, but I have been to Heroe's house a few times, and in all those times I have never seen her older sister. Gosh, that chick was beautiful. She had the most georgeous eyes, and unlike Heroe she didn't have any glasses. and those fingernails. I couldn't believe I now knew two people from the same household with long fingernails. Both were absolute stunners as well, although I thought Carmen was a little bit cuter than Heroe. But still, she must be in her 20's now. I made sure that I took an apple in my bag, like I always did. But I wasn't intending for this apple to be eaten.
After a little while riding, I eventually got to Heroe's house again. I rode down the driveway of the white, double storey house, and past it's lucious gardens. I noticed Carmen's car was in the driveway. It was a beautiful car, but not as beautiful as the girl driving it this afternoon. I knocked on the door, and I noticed that I was nervous, even if Heroes dad wasn't home. The door opened, and it was Carmen. She was a taller than I was, and her silky black hair draped down, covering her breasts. Her petite figure was more exposed by the flares that she was wearing. I must have frozen as she smiled at me. I felt I was trembling slighty. Carmen looked at me for a second and cocked her eyebrow.
"Are you Ok? she asked in a slightly english accent.
"Um.. um.. y.. yes I am.... sorry" Carmen laughed
"That's OK..... Chris isn't it?"
heroe and carmen3
"Y-yes it is" I almost froze again when I saw her fingernails. It was painted a deep red, curving slightly downward. It was also perfectly square, like Heroe's They looked so very strong, and probably sharper than Heroe's. They were easily over an inch long, and they were all the same length.
"Y-you've got the same fingernails as Heroe's" I commented, feigning innocence. "They're really beautiful"
"Thank you!" she said, smiling, as she examined her fingernails. She stroked her hair with her hands slowly, as if she was blushing "I'm just giving her a manicure. You probably shouldn't get in there. It really stinks"
"That's OK, I'm willing to wait for her"
"... You can watch if you want to, that's fine?"
"Oh, OK"
"Are you sure you don't mind? It's just that her nails are still a little wet, that's all, and it'll take a while to dry"
"Oh, I think it's OK"
"You can watch a little TV if you like?"
"mmm.... that's OK. I'll just come with you to where she is"
"Ok, if you want to" she said. I followed her down the grand entrance hall and up the stairs. The house has 4 bathrooms, If I remember correctly. Her dad's an executive, so no shortage of money for the family here.
Carmen's hair waved from side to side as she walked up the stairs. She flicked it back every now and then.
"So um... are you Heroe's only sister?"
"Yes, that's right" she replied "It's only the two of us and mum and dad decided that was it"
"You seem to have an English accent"
"I've been living in England for 3 years now. I got to Collage there"
"Oh, really? what course are you taking? Not ENGLISH I hope" I said with a Scottish accent. Carmen chuckled at my impression
"I'm taking IT management" she replied, still walking "I'm taking a half year off to go relax for a while"
"Oh, OK" I said. I was staring at her fingernails, which were dangling down her side, all this time.
"Heroe tells me you have a boyfriend"
"Hmmm" she smiled as she glanced back "Had"
"Oh, I'm... I'm sorry"
"That's OK, I didn't really like him much anyway"
"Oh.. OK" I smiled, wondering what she meant.
"He was..... a really lousy performer, if you know what I mean"
"Ah...." I replied. I wondered what she meant. I had no idea
We reached Heroe's room. The room had been repainted white, to match the rest of the house. Her room was as large as a full hotel suite. there was a bedroom, and a glass table in the centre containing some nail polish and acetone and a towel, surrounded by a peach coloured leather suite. In the middle sat Heroe, examining her fingernails. they looked magnificent. She seemed to have polished them in a french manicure, and they were still absolutely square.
"Sorry!" she said "I didn't think it would take this long"
"That's OK" I said. I must've been staring full on into her nails. They were absolutely elegant, and they looked so very strong and it seemed like they were sharper than before. Carmen sat down opposite and examined each of Heroe's nails in turn. It was such a magnificent set of fingernails. They were so white, they seemed to glow on their own.
Carmen's nails were just as elegant, and seeing both of them was making my throat really dry. I could feel that my stick was absolutely rock hard, but I didn't know why.
"Gosh, Heroe, they look so beautiful" I commented, trying to regain my composure. I felt like something has taken over me.
"Come here and sit next to me then" Carmen invited.
"Oh.... OK, if you don't mind"
"No, don't be silly. C'mon" I squeezed next to Carmen. She then picked up the clear polish and gave them another shake. I watched intently as her red fingernails were wrapped around the polish bottle. I wanted so much to admire them and hold them, but this is probably as close as I'll be. I must have been sweating like a dog. Her fingernails were so perfect, and looked so hard and strong, but I tried to hide it. After Carmen shook the nail polish, she unscrewed it, and Heroe extended her inch long french manicured fingernails for Carmen to paint it.
I watched every stroke of that nail polish go onto her nails, each one making it more and more beautiful. I felt a mixed feeling of excitement, awe and fear as I watched intently as Carmen finished painting Heroe's nails. They looked so beautiful, and so strong, as Heroe examined them periodically as she waved them in the air to dry off the polish.
"You've got pretty tough resistance against nail polish" said Carmen. I was so hypnotized with hers and Heroe's nails that I even forgot nail polish has a really strong smell.
"No, no, I hardly noticed at all"
"I was talking to him about my nails this morning" Heroe said "I was telling him how strong my nails were"
"Really?" said Carmen "There's no way your nails are stronger than mine"
"Na!"
"Don't listen to her Chris. I can tear a lot of things apart with these fingernails" said Carmen, trying to convince me. I couldn't believe they were arguing whose nails were stronger. She even spread them out on the table for me to examine. I didn't know what was happening, but I was feeling like I was about to explode. Seeing her long, strong, incredibly beautiful fingernails was just making me really sweat.
"Oh OK" I nodded. I was trying hard not to explode. I didn't know what it was but it was really making me feel really good. "Can you dig your nails into apples?"
"Can I?" Carmen said. "pity there's no apples to show you"
"I have an apple" I replied.
"Oh, do you need it?" Carmen asked
"No, no it's OK, it normally just gets eaten anyways" she smiled as I reached into my bag and handed it to Carmen. She playfully threw it from on hand to another for a few moments, and then formed a claw with her left hand. She then lined up her nails on the apple skin and then with incredible ease she dug her index nail in, then the rest of her nails. I was all about the explode as she dug all her nails into the apple, right up to her fingertips. Heroe looked on, waving her nails.
Carmen was biting her lip as she started to pull on the apple. I could see the cracks on the apple well up as Carmen started to tear it apart. The cracks grew larger until she tore off a piece the fruit. She dug her nails in all again so easily, and tore off another piece. I couldn't believe how easily she was tearing my apple apart.
She kept digging her nails and tearing off pieces of the fruit until my apple was just a whole lot of mess and juice on the floor. Carmen sucked on her fingers and her nails after she had finished. I so wanted it to be me doing that to her incredible fingernails. Heroe looked as if she was thinking "I can do that too". I was totally blown away by what Carmen did. she grabbed the towel an dried her fingers with it.
"See, Chris, someone here doesn't have strong fingernails like mine....." she smiled, examining her nails. they still had the same square shape, and looked as if they haven't done anything.
"Yes I do!" protested Heroe. "just wait until my nails dry up! I'm so gonna rip something apart"
"Oooh I'm so scared!!!" Carmen feigned horror. Heroe narrowed her eyes mockingly
"As soon as my nail polish dries up, something of yours is going to end up ripped to shreds!"
"Ooooh" Carmen replied "try growing nails like mine, first, little sis, and maybe you'll be able to" Heroe mockingly shook her head.
"I'm sure that both your nails are very strong" I commented. "Gosh, you two fight a lot" Carmen smiled at me. I felt a whole rush of excitement run through my body when she smiled, but I tried to suppressed it. I couldn't let her know what I was feeling.
Carmen continued painting the rest of Heroe's nails. I was hypnotised by their beauty. All of Heroe's fingernails, all over an inch long, and curving ever so slightly downwards, with a perfectly square tips, were spread out in all their glory with a perfect french manicure. My stick started to throb, after staring at Heroe's and Carmens nails.
Carmen's nails seemed so perfect as well. She showed me how strong her nails were before, and she is an absolute stunner. The more I looked at her, the more I think that she is more beautiful than Heroe. The edges of her incredibly strong fingernails were about as perfect as her sister's, and it seems as if she doesn't mind using them at all.
In fact she seems to enjoy showing how she can use her powerful fingernails to tear things apart. I wondered if she liked sratching people with them. Heroe was saying she loved doing it. I wonder what it would feel like to get scratched by Carmen's nails. Those square edges would absolutely slice through almost anything. Maybe even through my clothes. They looked sharp enough to do just that.
heroe and carmen4
Heroe got up and walked off the room, waving and blowing on her beautiful fingernails. Carmen parted her hair behind her ears and got the acetone. I stared at her incredible nails. Carmen glanced at me for a second and spread her fingernails on the table. Gosh it took my breath away. I could see each of her talons, deep red, spread out like she was displaying them for me to admire.
"What do you think, Chris? Should I stay red or should I do French like Heroe?" I had no idea what to say, I was stunned by this beautiful girl talking to me about her nails.
"U-u-m, I think y-you should...... um"
"Do you like my nails being red? Or do you like them like Heroe's?" she said. There was a hint of forcefulness in her english accent.
"I.. um.. think you should pick" I looked back at Carmen. There was a brief pause, probably more uncomfortable for me than her. She smiled back
"I think I might just leave it red for the time being"she said, her nails still spread out on the table.
"I think your fingernails are beautiful"
"Thanks" she said, almost blushing
"Do you always dig your nails into fruits like that?" I asked, feeling a mix of excitement and danger as I glanced at her nails, and then to the bits of apple on the floor
"Yeah, for practice" she replied. she started to scrape the glass table with her nails. The high pitched sound they made was like the glass shrieking in pain as Carmen caressed them gently with the pointed edges of her square, red talons. She kept looking at me every now and then as she kept scraping the glass. It was absolute music to my ears. My eyes were frozen flat staring at her claws, and I could have sworn she was starting to make little scratches on the surface.
"I like to keep my nails really sharp as well" she said, biting her lip "It helps me to get a feeling of power" I couldn't answer her. My throat was absolutely dry looking at her nails. I'm not sure if she knows, but for all it's worth, she's got me. I don't know what has come over me but I cannot help but stare at her incredible red talons. Carmen stopped scraping the table and examined underneath her nails, as if to clean them. She made sure that I could see underneath her nails
"Are you OK, Chris?" she asked, as if feigning surprise. After a moment I snapped out of my trance
"Um yes, yes, I'm OK" Carmen slowly reached for my hand took it with her left hand. She placed her right index nail in the middle of my palm and sliced down towards my fingers, leaving a long, red welt. Gosh, her nails felt sooo sharp, and I couldn't believe what was happening.
She started tapping and scraping her nails onto my palm. I was starting to sweat profusely. I didn't know what was going on. To my 15 year old mind I felt like I had left the earth, and gone to a better place. Carmen glanced at me every now and then, and I could tell that she wanted something.
But I couldn't figure out what it was. I guess I was too naive to know what she wanted. we heard some footsteps coming, and like a snap Carmen ditched my hands, crossed her arms and looked the other way.
"Sorry, Chris, my sister isn't doing anything annoying is she?" I glanced at Carmen, who was still looking the other way. I paused before I answered.
"No, no, she's um.... nice to talk to"
"Oh, OK....." she replied, still unsuspecting "Look, is it OK if I take a shower, Chris? I won't be long"
"She'll be about half an hour!" Carmen replied, smiling.
"I don't take that long!" Heroe protested, laughing "It's alright with you, Chris?"
"OK then" I replied. Heroe took some clothes from her wardrobe, and then left for the shower. A few moments later Carmen started to scratch her arms. The hard, sharp scraping sound her nails made made me shudder in excitement, but I tried to suppress it. I stole a glance at Carmen's nails, and she continued to scratching herself. She seemed to be really leaning on her nails, putting pressure on her talons. Carmen was looking at me, making sure I could see how strong her nails really are.
"Chris, did you want to play around?" she asked, finally.
"What do you mean?" Carmen took my hand and put it under her red cardigan. For her petite stature she seemed very strong. I tried to pull my hand back, but she managed to pull it to her chest, and to her breasts. I broke out into a sweat as she guided my hand to massage it.
She was looking straight at me and she seemed to breathing a little more heavily. She kept her hand on mine for a little while, and then she slowly removed it. I was too afraid to stop massaging. She then got my hand off suddenly, got up and took my hand and led me across the house to her own room.
She locked the door behind her. I got a little scared, as she was breathing heavily, and she looked as if she wanted to do something to me. My stick was hard this whole time. She came up to me and kissed me in the lips. I was taken aback. I have never been kissed before where she kissed me. Her lips felt so warm, like a soft, warm blanket, and tasted so sweet.
I felt her hands going up my back, under my shirt. I was getting a little bit worried as I could feel her nails lining up on my shoulder blades. She kept kissing me slowly and passionately. I could feel the edges of her nails starting to dig into my back, but for some reason, even when there was pain, I could feel an unrestrained wave of passion come over me.
I don't know what happened but I kissed her back, and tried to force her onto the floor. She fought back though, while our lips were locked she not only managed to force me back, but smacked me down on her bed, and she was right on top of me. she finally stopped kissing me. Her beautiful black silky hair was dangling down on me. she was absolutely stunning.
"You're mine" she smiled. I noticed I was breathing heavily, and I was feeling really energised and excited. She was holding both my arms. She started to scratch my arm. The loud scraping sound confirmed how strong and sharp her nails were.
"Gosh your nails are so sharp" I said
"Do you like them?" she asked "I love TEARING things apart with them" she got off me and unbuttoned my pants. I couldn't believe what was happening. It seemed so sureal. My stick stuck out like a stiff metal pole.
"Ok then! I think you're ready!" she remarked.
"ready for what?" I asked, half curious, and scared.
"For fun......" she said. She unbuttoned her blouse, put it down. Oh my gosh! I could see her private parts. I didn't know why, but my stick seemed to get harder still. She put her private parts on my stick. She made a deep, satisfied sigh as she did so. It looked as if her privates were swallowing up my stick. I felt a most beautiful, amazing sensation, a mixture between excitement, horror and ecstasy. This feeling intensified greatly as Carmen started going up and down on me.
"Oh, yes, yes" Carmen moaned. she started slowly. I was feeling so strange, yet so blissful.
"Are you having fun, Chris?" She asked
"Oh, wow....." I replied. Carmen went up and down on me, glanced at me as if she was receiving something from me. I felt she was giving me something as well, but I can only describe a feeling of blissful mixture of excitement and a hint of danger.
Carmen got faster at coming up and down. She did this for a few moments, each filled with unbelievable ecstasy. I couldn't believe this beautiful woman was on top of me, doing something that was utterly making me feel so good.
After a few more moments of moaning, she got faster, and in the end I felt her squeezing my stick hard. She seemed as if she got what she wanted. I couldn't hold on any longer. Something exploded into her. I felt so blissful, but for some reason I felt really scared. Carmen paused to catch her breath. She smiled at me as she got up and slowly removed her privates off mine. My stick was still absolutely rock hard.
Carmen looked at it for a moment. She then quickly scraped her index nail to the side of my stick. Gosh, they felt so sharp, even if she scraped her nail lightly. There was some sort of ooze on it. Carmen held up her nail briefly, examining the underside of her index nail. The ooze started to run down her nail. She then stuck her nail into her mouth. she sucked it off really slowly. She stared at me as she sucked all the ooze off.
"Mmmm." Carmen said as she sipped her finger. " Thanks, Chris. That was really good" Carmen said, satisfied. I was feeling less than. I almost felt humiliated, actually. and I don't know why but I did.
She pushed herself off casually and buttoned up her blouse again. I couldn't move for a mnute. I don't know why, but I just felt so bad, but at the same time, I wanted more of what just happened. Carmen helped pull me out of bed
"C'mon, Heroe will be getting out of the shower soon"
heroe and carmen5
"I know" I replied. Carmen led me out by the hand out of the room. We came back and sat down on the couch. She sat on exactly the same spot she was before, and so did I. I looked at the clock. We had just gone for 20 minutes. I felt it was much sooner. I guess time flies when you're having fun.
"Did you have fun?" Carmen asked, staring at me lovingly with those beautiful dark eyes. I breathed deeply
"Um, yeah, yep I did" I replied back, almost mumbling.
"Good. I'm glad you did. I had a VERY good time" she replied. By now I felt so sick I didn't know what was happening with me. It all feels so strange. I didn't know whether to feel afraid, or happy. I looked back at her.
"You're so beautiful" I told her. She smiled back at me, as she started examined her nails again. I stared at them. They looked so much more beautiful than they ever did before, so much stronger and sharper.
"Gosh, your nails are so nice. they look so strong"
"They are" she replied "I've ripped apart a lot of things with these nails"
"Do you like them?" she asked. she reached over and started scraping her nails on my fingers. "Can you hear that, Chris?"
"yes, Carmen"
"Only steel hard fingernails make that sort of sound"
"Does Heroe's nails make that sound?"
"of course they do" she replied, matter-of-factly "She's my little sister. Her nails aren't as strong as mine, of course....."
"She'd dispute that" I interrupted, smiling
"......well, they're just not. My nails have got experience, c'mon!" she replied, laughing "I've had long nails like this since for almost 3 years now"
"Heroe said she can tear apart an apple in 30 seconds flat"
"I can rip apples apart faster than that. Nails like mine can go straight through apples with no problems"
"Steel hard fingernails, huh?" I nodded, staring at her nails. "You'd probably open coconuts with those"
"I already have. No challenge at all for my nails." she smiled and winked. "If I really wanted to I can probably tear apart my dad's safe with my nails. They're absolutely super strong" she said mockingly.
I'm sure she was kidding, but with the nails I was staring at, they looked strong enough to tear apart almost anything.
"Wow...... I guess Heroe can do that too, then"
"Of course she can. one day, she'll be able to dig her nails into bricks, just like I do with mine"
"Are you serious?"
"Yep. My nails can penetrate bricks in less than 10 seconds flat" she said, teasingly. She reached over and felt my stick. It was absolutely stiff.
" I love teasing you" I think she got my secret. A wave of embarrasment came over me. I must have been flushed red. Carmen ran her fingers through her hair as she smiled at me. She started scratching herself again. I can see she was really trying to squeeze her nails, like before. I think she was making sure I knew how strong her nails really were. She then examined her nails briefly, then turned to me.
"Heroe's been gone for a little while"
"I know" I replied
"Let's go and see where she's gone" she said as she got up. She grabbed my hand and pulled me up. We trudged along the hallway, and Carmen opened the bathroom door slowly and quietly. She mentioned for me to be quiet as she opened the door. She smiled as she mentioned for me to come in. Gosh, those red fingernails were amazing! I took a peek inside. I smiled back at Carmen.
Heroe was lying on her back on the spa, which was bubbling away. She had some sort of light green cream on her face topped by a cucumbers on her eyes. What she had done on her hands blew me away. Each of her nails wer buried into a cucumber, all the way down to her fingertips. She appeared to be asleep.
"Oh my Gosh..... are her nails dug into those cucumbers?" I asked, mystified
"yes they are" she whispered back "Cucumbers make nails like ours extra hard"
"Won't it break your nails first, I mean c'mon, cucumbers?"
"Not my nails. You know they're super strong. Heroe's nails are going to become as strong as mine are"
"Oh, yeah"
"Do you want to see how far I can dig my nails into a cucumber?"
"If you think you're up to it" She gave me a feigned look of shock as she took my hand and walked me down the kitchen. I stared at those incredibly strong fingernails.
Curving towards my hands, she could easily have sliced my hands to ribbons.
"Heroe just started digging her nails into things when her nails grew that long"
"Oh, really?"
"yeah. I've been doing that for years now. I've never broken my nails doing it. NEVER"
"Wow. What else have you done with those things?"
"Well, for one thing I never use screw drivers"
"Really?"
"Yep, don't need it" she said, turning to me slightly and holding her index nail up. She took my hand and led me to the kitchen.
Gosh those nails looked stunning in red! I thought I must have been drooling as she led me down to the kitchen. We walked across the hallway and we came into a huge hall, there was a table in the middle and the stove in the far end. There was a stainless steel refrigerator. Gosh, the room looked bigger than our house.
"Have a seat" she said, nodding towards the chairs in the counter. I went over and sat down. Carmen went through and took a steel bowl from a drawer and opened the fridge. She tapped her nails onto the bowl as she sqatted down, as if trying to decide what to get. She took out a few things before going towards me.
She stood up opposite me and took out the contents of the bowl. There was a small lettuce, a cucumber, celery, an apple and orange, and a potato. She spread them out in front of me and then outspread all her talons on the counter. She looked at me as if she wanted to ask something. After pausing for a moment, she started tapping her nails on the counter. I couldn't help but stare at them.
"Do you want some salad?" she asked
"Don't you need a knife to prepare those?"
"No, I don't darling. I don't need to" she took the cucumber with her left hand, and with her right hand nails she formed a claw, which she lined up at one end of the cucumber. She glanced at me for a moment before she started to dig her nails into it.
"I wonder if this cucumber can stop my nails" I could see her red fingernails puncture the skin so easily and sink into the cucumber. Her inch long thumbnail dug straight through underneath, and eventually she was just able to pinch off the end of the cucumber, which she put into one side.
"Nope, I guess not this part of it" she said, almost casually. She formed a claw again, and after lining up her nails and digging them into the cucumber all the way in. She didn't dig her thumbnail in this time, just preferring to rip off the bit she dug into. This, she put into the bowl.
"Do you normally make salad this way?"
"I have salad every afternoon, Chris" she answered, casually, in her english accent. "Ive never used a knife to prepare my salad, except when my parents are here"
"Does Heroe help you?"
"She did it for the first time yesterday. She took ages, though" she dug her nails in again, and put the ripped off bit into the bowl again.
"Do you think I can rip off a bit with this one?" she asked, holding up her thumbnail. There was juice oozing down her nail. I could have sworn I felt like licking them. They still looked perfectly square
"Why don't you try?"
"Ok" she replied. she put the cucumber down on the counter and put her thumbnail onto it. She put it so the cucumber piece was thicker than the ones she had done previously.
"What do you think Chris, this thick?"
"Oh, look why don't you try a little further, just to make it harder"
"If you think it'll make it harder for my nails" she replied. She moved her thumbnail about half an inch from the destroyed end of the cucumber and with so little effort dug her thumbnail straight into it, until her nail dug through and hit the counter.
She then lifted up the cucumber and dangled it in front of me, just to show me how she had impaled it.
"Hold the other end, Chris" she said. I obliged and watched as she applied more pressure on the cucumber. I saw cracks appear which became wider as her incredibly strong thumbnail ripped it clear, and the piece fell onto the counter.
She appeared satisfied as she speared her index nail through the ripped off bit and she placed it into the bowl again.
"Gee, that was a challenge for my nails" she said to me sarcastically. she Dug in her nails again and again until all that was left was the end bit of the cucumber. She looked so relaxed as she impaled those cucumbers, digging her nails in. Despite their ripped appearance Carmen had lined the cucumbers neatly in a circular pattern on the bowl. She put the piece she ripped off with her thumbnail in the middle, so the cucumbers looked like a flower pattern on the bowl.
"That's pretty neat" I commented. I was enjoying this so much.
"Thanks" she said, as she grabbed the celery. "We only need a few stalks of these. But just in case you still don't think my nails are very strong...." she put the celery upside down so that the leaves were almost touching the counter. She line up her right index nail, and after a brief pause she casually sank it into the underside of the celery in less than 3 seconds. "OK?" she asked
"I know your nails are really strong already. You didn't have to do that"
"Oh, it's OK. I love it when I'm able to sink my nails into things. I love sinking my nails into my playthings"
"Like a cat"
"Yes" she took out her index nail, and with it she hacked off 3 stalks of celery.
The celery made a crunching sound as Carmen casually dug her nails in and ripped them off. She lined up the leaves on the counter. She then held it so her left hand was holding the ends without the leaves. and she rested her square index nail on the counter.
"What are you going to do?"
"What do you think?" she replied, looking as is she was getting ready.
She looked like she was going to slice off the top bits of the celery stalks with a knife. Except for her knife is natural, painted red and is incredibly strong. She slid it across and in one stroke all 3 celery stalks had their tops sliced off. She put the stalks in her bowl. A little more pressure and I'm sure her nails would have sliced open the counter.
"Now for the lettuce" she said. she grabbed the lettuce, and looked around it.
"I think we only need half of this" she said.
She placed the lettuce on the counter and then lined up all her nails on the top.
She then so effortlessly sank all her fingernails into the lettuce. Even her thumbnails she dug all the way in underneath the lettuce. She gave a tug, and the lettuce ripped apart a little, albeit violently. She gave another few tugs, pieces of lettuce flying off each time as she used her incredibly strong fingernails to tear it apart. It was mind blowing. Here was an absolutely stunning girl showing me how strong her fingernails were by tearing things apart, and she was enjoying it! What's more, the things she was tearing apart with her fingernails other girls would use knives for. What a woman, I thought.
With a final tug she tore the lettuce apart with her incredibly strong fingernails.
"Gosh, what a work out" she said. she put one half of the lettuce on the counter and proceeded to tear apart the other half. She used her talons to tear off leaves, and she put them into the stainless steel bowl. I stared at her nails the whole time. She seemed so relaxed and in control as she brutally reduced the lettuce to a pile of shredded leaves on the bowl.
"Oh my gosh, Carmen, your nails are sooo STRONG!"
"I know, darling, I know. That's why I don't need knives"
"Oh, my gosh, you'll probably get arrested for those"
"No, darling. Most people think they're just plain old boring long red fingernails..... What they don't know is that I can use these beauties to rip things apart"
"Do you like using them on people?"
"Mostly on people I play with" she winked. I'm sure I was having difficulty breathing.
"You don't have any tomatoes on your salad"
"Oh, there's tomatoes in the fridge. But with nails like mine you know how hard that is for me to tear apart. I need a little more of a challenge"
"Oh, OK. No, I don't think so Carmen"
"What's the matter, darling?" she asked. picking up the potato with her nails. Her fingertips never even touched it.
"You can't possibly do it"
"Why not, darling?" she asked, almost as if surprised "Don't you think my nails are strong and sharp enough to rip this thing apart?" she asked. she formed a claw with her right hand and dug her nails into the potato with so little effort on her part. I could hear the low crunching sound of the potato flesh as her nails penetrated through with so little effort.
"Just watch, my little plaything" she said as her left-hand nails started digging into the potato. I couldn't believe what she was doing. There was a really continuous crunching sound as she pushed her nails all the way through the potato.
"Gosh, that was sooo easy" Carmen said. She put the potato on the counter, and she started digging in her right hand nails just opposite. I just had a hard on just looking how easily her steel hard nails were digging into this poor potato. She smiled as she lifted the potato off the counter. She gave me both thumbs up as she now started to pull apart.
There was that really low crunching sound again. I noticed that this poor potato was starting to crack under the pressure of her nails. In a few more seconds the potato cracked open, revealing her long, luscious fingernails. She looked like she really enjoyed ripping this potato apart, and she dropped it into the bowl.
"Gosh, Chris, I am feeling so incredibly horny right now" She was breathing slow, deep breaths. so was I but I didn't know what to do
"Ripping things apart makes me want a fuck so bad"
"What do you want me to do?"
"Fuck me, silly, like we did before" she replied. She jumped over the table and kissed me on the lips. I was shocked and taken aback but she started kissing me passionately. I slipped off and we both fell onto the floor. I hurt my head, and I must've cushioned her fall. She started laughing as she unbuttoned my pants again to reveal my really hard stick
Heroe and Carmen6
"Oh, yes, my little plaything. My nails are steel hard." Carmen said as she slipped off her pants again. She put herself on top of my stick, and then pinned my arms. I was helpless. Her rock hard privates started to squeeze on my stick. GOsh, it was pure bliss as she started riding me up and down again.
As the pleasure built up between both of us, she started moaning. Low at first, then louder. For my part, I felt my mouth was wide open as the pleasure started to sear into me. I couldn't believe such pleasure existed at all.
Carmen continued to thump me, up and down, getting faster and faster.
"Gosh, I'm almost there... Oh... oh" she moaned. I tried to say something but she quickly covered her hands on my mouth. She leaned on me and then whispered "Shhhhh". She took my hands and put them on her breasts. It was very erotic. I squeezed her breasts, gently, slowly, and felt little explosions of pleasure going through my body.
I felt her hands rest on my chest, and start to squeeze. Then I felt her nails. all of them. They started squeezing my T-shirt. I could feel how sharp her nails were, even through the T-shirt. And their strength.
I felt Carmen's squeeze, and they were increasingly tight as her body thumped on mine. I was almost there. I could only gasp and marvel at how Carmen's nails were keeping from breaking at the enormous stress she is putting on her nails. Gosh, they were strong. Very strong. I almost came off.
"ARRRRGGGG" Carmen almost screamed as her body convulsed at the waves of pleasure that racked her body. I felt her nails. She squeezed even more. I felt something sharp come through my T-shirt and start scraping my chest. Then I felt my skin getting sliced as Carmen sqeezed her nails hard, and then relaxed.
I exploded into her. I opened my eyes to see her face close to mine, her eyes closed, but she was smiling. I was taking quick, deep breaths. She was still going up and down, but slowly now. slowly. and getting slower. Then Carmen stopped.
I felt her withdrawing her nails from my shirt. She got them stuck for a moment, but she tugged it free.
"Hold me" she whispered, with a tone of control in her voice. I put my arms around her. I suddenly saw her nails appear into view. I could see under them, all of them.
"Any damage to my nails, Chris?" she asked. her beautiful eyes were looking into mine, with a pleasurely stare. I examined under her nails. It was an inch long, and covered with bits of salad. I noticed how nicely they curved, just slightly, and I was surprised how they didn't twist or anything. I examined the sides of her nails. Not even a little dent or anything, or any hint of damage. they were so smooth, and they were a dull red underneath.
Carmen smiled. "You are still hard, Chris". I looked into her eyes. I was so lucky to have this girl on me. "I really need you to clean my nails, now, my plaything. she said.
She started with her little pinky nail. She put them into my mouth, I closed my lips around her nail, almost involuntarily. She smiled as she slowly pulled her nail out of my mouth. I licked her nail with my tongue. She smiled as she put in her ring fingernail. Again my lips closed around her nail. She didn't take it out. I licked around her nail. she still didn't take it out.
"Try and bend my nail with your tongue, Chris" she whispered. I did as I was told. I put my tongue over her nail and tried to push. Nothing. I pushed harder. Still nothing. I couldn't bend it.
"Try pushing as hard as you can" Carmen said. I did. I still couldn't bend it. I tried another time, but still nothing. Carmen's nails were so hard and strong, I couldn't bend it. I gave up and started licking her nail again. She took it out slowly, letting me savour her inch long, steel hard fingernail with my tongue. I hardly noticed the taste of celery and vegetables on her nail.
"Are you still doubting how strong my nails are, Chris?" she asked, whispering.
"Not for a second.. now" I whispered back. She smiled at me again, and then hauled herself off me, standing up, and she extened a clawed hand to me and helped me off to my feet. as we dressed again, I noticed that my T-shirt had one or two crescent shaped holes on them. I couldn't believe Carmen's nails. The strength of steel, and sharp enough to cut through my T-shirt.
"Sorry about that" she said, examining the holes that her nails had made. "Do you have something to cover that?"
"Yeah, that's OK, I've got something" I felt the hole with my finger. The material of my T-shirt was sliced clean. Carmen's nails went through like a knife. I couldn't believe it.
Heroe and Carmen7
I was lying. I didn't have anything to cover my T-shirt at all. I was still dazed at how strong and razor sharp Carmen's nails were.
"Heroe's taking a while in her bath" Carmen said, buttoning up her blouse again.
"Her nails should be nice and soft now." Carmen looked at me in mocking disbelief
"let's see how soft her nails are" Carmen smirked. I could almost feel the sweat in anticipation. I wondered if Heroe's nails were harder now that the cucumber juices has had a chance to permeate through her nails. Carmen lead me off back to where Heroe was lying. It seemed that she did fall asleep. Carmen leant across to her ear
"Heroe" she whispered "Heroe, you're nail's broken"
Heroe started to stir, and then she vigourously shook off the cucumbers from her eyes. she went and examined her nails, all of them still buried up to her fingertips into the cucumber flesh. She looked at each hand in turn, and let out a sigh of relief. Carmen smiled.
"Oh, you are going to pay!!" Heroe said, shaking her head in mock anger. Carmen smirked with satisfaction
"Do you want to get those off, now?" Carmen asked. Heroe held up the cucumber "in the normal way?" Heroe nodded. Carmen extended her right hand and lined up her nails just opposite where Heroe had hers buried. within seconds there was a sharp crack as Carmen punctured her nails into the cucumber with total ease, all the way up to her fingertips.
"So easy" Carmen said flatly
"Not as easy as when I dug my nails in" retorted Heroe, matter-of-factly
"Ok you pull" Carmen said. Heroe started to tug the cucumber towards her. I could hear a sharp crack every few seconds as the cucumber flesh ripped at the incredible pressure that Heroe was exerting with her nails. I watched in amazement, and my stick started to get hard again.
"this is starting to get easier and easier" Heroe said. Carmen smiled as she kept her nails buried in the cucumber. Heroe pulled harder, and the pressure on her nails must have been immense, but not enough to break them. The cucumber flesh gave way, until eventually Heroe ripped off the bit of cucumber that she had her nails dug into. She dropped the cucumber flesh on the tiles. Carmen did the same for her part of the cucumber. It was absolutely destroyed, ripped apart in the middle.
"You have to do the same for the other hand, Heroe" said Carmen. Heroe nodded and put the cucumber in front of her face. She then lined up the nails of her other hand, and with such ease she dug her nails into the cucumber flesh. She focused for a minute, and then slowly started ripping the cucumber apart. It was so slow, as if to make sure that the strength of Heroe's nails were tested to a limit. Seconds ticked by, and Heroe pulled the cucumber flesh apart. She did it with such a carefree attitude, until eventually both halves of the cucumber were with one hand each. Carmen made a big smile.
"Sis, your nails are almost as strong as mine"
"whatever!" Heroe said, holding up a hand to Carmen as if to say talk to the hand
"Wanna have some dinner?" Carmen asked. "you're invited, of course, darling"
"Ok" I said. "what are we having?"
"we're having some seafood" said Carmen "crabs and lobsters"
"yummy!" shrieked Heroe, the excitement in her voice "I love crabs"
"C'mon, darling" Carmen said to me, grasping my hand as she rose to leave, pulling me in tow "we'll meet you in the dining room, Heroe"
"OK" Heroe said. I gazed into her eyes for a long moment as I left, pulling the door behind me.
"Gosh" I said, sighing deeply "Heroe's nails are really strong!"
"They are starting to aren't they?
"starting to? They're about as strong as yours now, I think"
"Do you really think so?"
"just seeing her rip apart those cucumbers were awesome!". Carmen stopped
"almost as awesome as me making fruit salad with my nails?"
I paused for thought. I could see in Carmens eyes that she was taking this seriously
"Ummmm... well" I began. Carmen stared into my eyes. I felt like I was being interrogated for an answer "your nails were pretty awesome making the fruit salad"
"but..?" Carmen trailed off, her eyes still seeking an answer
"no buts" I said, but I felt that even I wasn't convinced "the way your nails ripped apart those fruits were awesome". Carmen still stared with those penetrating eyes
"Your nails must be so much stronger than Heroe's" I said. Carmen smirked.
"That's exactly right, darling, and I'll make my nails so strong I can rip apart steel, if I have to" Carmen said, tugging me again to follow
"I would love to see you tear apart steel" I whispered, almost to myself
"Don't worry, darling, don't worry" Carmen said "as long as you give me a fuck when I want it, I'll make my nails so strong and sharp that I'll be able to slice and tear apart steel if I wanted to"
"Really?" Carmen stopped and kissed me for a long moment
"Really" Carmen said after she finished. She held up her nails for me, then turned them to face her so I could see under them. They looked so awesome, they way they were shaped, and the way they curved ever so slightly "and there are ways to make them that strong"
"huh?" I said. my voice had a slight quiver
"Nails as strong as mine can get much, much stronger... strong enough to stop a bullet" Carmen seemed so sure, it was unnerving. I put up my finger to feel underneath her nails. She kept them held up to let me feel under her nails. They were so smooth. I felt them for a long moment, and then stopped and kissed them. Carmen smiled and kissed me back on my lips, and then led me on to the dining room.
-
In The Far East
In The Far East…by R. Starkweather
The young hostess clasped her hands and bowed her head modestly. "How many,
please?" she asked in clipped English. "Me, I and myself," Matt Jackson answered. The
hostess looked up with coal-black almond-shaped eyes and glanced around and behind
him as if looking for someone. "Three?" she asked, cocking her head slightly. Matt
realized she hadnt understood his slang. "One," he said. "Follow me, please," she said
clasping a single menu, and she turned quickly with a swish of her long, straight black
hair. "This table is ok?" she asked. "Yes. Thank you," Matt said as he sat. The hostess
placed the menu before him and clasped her hands and bowed her head again. "Enjoy,"
she said as she backed away a few steps before turning. In a few moments another young
woman appeared to take his order, and while she scribbled characters on her pad, Matt
watched her little hands. More specifically he looked at her nails, unpolished, and
clipped to the skin. Hed noticed the hostess nails were likewise; in fact, he hadnt
found so much as a hair-thin bit of white nail growth on the hands of any girl or woman
hed seen in the three days since he arrived. Not even a set of fakes. For a guy with a
raging nail fetish like Matt, it was like being in hell.
It wasnt supposed to be that way. Hed always envisioned Asia as an exotic paradise
where at every turn awaited beautiful raven-haired, almond-eyed temptresses with long,
long fingernails, eager to please him, ready to caress his body with those long, delicate
nails, using sublime techniques of intense seduction unknown by western women. At
work when the opportunity came up, hed actually paid several of his co-workers to step
aside and clear the field for him to get the assignment. Now here he was, surrounded by
sweet, shy young women whose nails were kept so short it was sometimes impossible
from two feet away for him to see where their nails ended and the soft, amber-colored
skin of their little fingertips began. Women all wore little woven flip-flop sandals, and
Matt noticed that they kept their toenails trimmed to the skin also. To make matters even
worse, he hadnt thought it would be necessary to pre-load any nail photos onto the
laptop the company had given him, and he couldnt risk using it to surf nail-related sites
since the browser history-clearing utility had been purposely disabled. As Matt fumbled
awkwardly with chopsticks trying to get a piece of chicken--or at least, he hoped it was
chicken--into his hungry mouth, he sighed deeply and thought of having to jerk off to
mental images of nails for the next six weeks.
Indeed, thats exactly what he resorted to during the next two weeks. During the third
week, his frustration was getting the better of his ability to concentrate on work. Matt
had never sought out a prostitute before, and didnt relish doing it for the first time in a
strange country. Hed seen movies about Americans being jailed in foreign lands, and he
didnt relish the thought of it happening to him. Hed also heard tales of guys making-
out with a beautiful prostitute in a bar, and then later in the hotel as they disrobed,
discovering a hidden penis lurking beneath her silk panties. That too was something he
did not relish. Finally he was able to get to know his new co-workers well enough to
decide whos experience and discretion he could trust, and in a roundabout way brought
up the subject of where he might find some "company" among the local women. Of
course, for the sake of his career Matt wouldnt risk letting anyone at his company know
about his long-nail fetish, but he assumed that while it seemed clipped-to-the-skin,
unpolished nails might be mandatory for "good girls", surely at least some prostitutes
would have long nails.
Matt visited several bars and brothels. There was no shortage of beautiful women, and
indeed many of them did sport nail polish, and even had some length to them, but only a
little past their fingertips. Nothing even remotely approaching the exotic, dragon-lady
talons hed always dreamed of. He did find one prostitute who had a whopping quarter-
inch of nails. She looked to be in her forties, with a round face and squinty eyes, and as
she sat at the bar snuffing out a cigarette in an ashtray already brimming with butts
smeared with her bright red lipstick she hollered at him in a sqwawky voice, "Hey boy!
You like date? Fifty US dollar!" Matt took a long look at her nails, and then surprised
even himself as he shrugged apologetically and left.
Matt lay back on his bed and closed his eyes, conjuring up a fantasy vision, a composite
of the lovely young hostess at the hotel restaurant, dressed instead provocatively like one
of the prostitutes hed seen, and with very long, clear-white fingernails tapering from
each of her little fingers. He closed his hand around his dick, but his fantasy vision kept
going in and out of focus in his mind, like an image on satellite TV suffering some sort of
interference. Too distracted to jerk off, and too aroused to sleep, Matt looked at his
watch, it was 1AM, and he decided to go back out just for a walk.
As he came to a corner, Matt could hear a pounding beat coming from the side street. He
turned the corner and followed the sound to a bustling club where young locals filed in
and out in rapidly-moving lines like ants at an anthill. Everyone seemed to eye him
suspiciously, being the only caucasian, and nearly a head taller than anyone else. That,
plus the combination of flashing lights, the cacaphony of loud music, and people
shouting in an incomprehensible language made Matt immediately want to turn around
and leave. And he almost did, until he caught sight of a beautiful young Asian woman
sitting alone at the far end of the bar, wearing a long, red silk robe fastened with a
matching silk rope belt wrapped in numerous coils around her tiny waist. But it wasnt
her beauty, or the fact she was sitting alone that prompted the little voice inside his head
to tell him to go closer. The voice was Matts nail-radar, honed over a lifetime of
seeking out long-nailed women. Even across the dark, smoky, crowded club, something
about her hands had set his radar off. With focused resolve Matt edged and threaded his
way through the crowd toward the bar, oblivious to the annoyed stares of the locals at this
tall, fair-haired stranger invading their midst. Matts heart pounded harder and harder as
he ploughed through the sea of dancing people toward the young woman in the red silk
robe. Finally reaching the bar, Matt sat where he could get the most direct view of her.
His radar had not failed him. Wrapped delicately around her glass and toying with her
straw and sparkling like diamonds under the flashing lights from the dance floor, the
young womans ten natural fingernails looked to be at least an inch long, and in
proportion to her delicate little fingers had the illusion of extreme length.
The bartender came over. "Speak English?" he asked. Matt nodded, and the bartender
took his drink order in broken but passable English. Matt smiled politely at the young
woman, but she didnt return his gesture. Matt finished his drink and ordered
another…all the while keeping his eye on the beautiful woman with exceptionally-long
nails as she nursed her drink with excruciating slowness. He kept smiling at her, once he
even raised his glass like a toast. Finally the girl finished her drink, and Matt called the
bartender over. "Id like to buy the lady another of whatever shes drinking," Matt said.
"Ok," the bartender said with a shrug, as if he didnt really approve, but money was
money. He mixed up a drink and took it down to the end of the bar and set it in front of
the young woman in the long red silk robe and said something to her while pointing at
Matt. The girl shoved the drink away and crossed her arms, then said something to the
bartender in an agitated, angry voice while she glared at Matt.
The bartender walked back to where Matt was sitting and shrugged again. "She say tell
you she not bar girl!" the bartender translated, "You make her very mad. She not hooker,
she boss. She owner this club." Matt jumped up from his seat and rushed toward the girl
waving his arms and shaking his head. "No, no! Thats not what I meant!" Matt cried.
He got down on his knees in front of her stool and clasped his hands together like he was
begging. "I only wanted to buy you a drink and maybe to talk to you," he pleaded,
"Please forgive me if I insulted you. It was a misunderstanding." She looked down at
him and furrowed her brow, then she looked over at the bartender. "She not understand
all you say," the bartender remarked, "She not know many English." "Well, could you
please tell her what I said? That I didnt think she was a prostitute," Matt pleaded. The
bartender nodded and he turned to his boss and rattled off a rapid-fire series of words
with rising and falling intonation.
She nodded at the bartender and then looked down at Matt, un-crossed her arms and
turned one palm up and made an upward motion with her hand while she said something
he couldnt understand. Matt got his first close look at her nails. They were spectacular.
They were not only long, but also very subtly curved. More interestingly they seemed
nicely-thick and strong as well, and she had on a frosted polish that was transparent
enough he could see that she had long nail beds in addition to the substantial length of the
tips which were filed to perfect rounded ovals. Matt understood she meant for him to get
up off his knees, and he began to rise. As he did, she crossed her legs slowly. Matts
heart almost stopped when he saw her dainty foot peek out from beneath her long red silk
robe. Done in the same transparent frosted polish, her toenails were about a quarter-inch
long past their long nail beds, also nicely-thick and strong and subtly curved. Also like
her fingernails, her toenails were filed to rounded ovals. She repeated what shed said,
snapping Matt out of his stupor, and he got to his feet. The girl motioned him to sit
on the stool next to her, and then she wrapped those superb long-nailed fingers around
her fresh drink and as she fixed her gaze on Matt, slowly closed her glossy, plump lips
around the straw and drew a sip.
"My names Matt. Whats yours?" he asked. She said nothing, did nothing other than
stare at him with her coal-black almond-shaped eyes. Matt inhaled her heady scent of
jasmine perfume. "Name," Matt said pointing at her and then himself in a hopeless
attempt to communicate. The beautiful girl blinked her long thick lashes. Matt shrugged,
and sighed plaintively. She took another sip from her straw and licked her lips slowly
and smiled very slightly. Matt noticed her teeth were brilliant white and with straight,
perfectly-chiseled edges. He thought it remarkable because the majority of other young
women hed seen in that country had uneven teeth that appeared too large for their little
mouths. She opened her little purse and took out a pack of 100mm cigarettes and
plucked one with her long nails. She put it between her lips and Matt quickly grabbed a
book of matches from the bar and reached to light her cigarette. She cupped her hands
gently around his to steady the match, and Matt felt her nails touch his hands. Slowly she
withdrew her hands, her nails trailed against his skin and Matt was so aroused by the
sensation he didnt notice the match burning down to his fingers. He jumped when he
felt it burn, and quickly dropped the smoking match on the bar. The girl smiled and gave
a little laugh, and she said something that sounded like a question. Matt shrugged, "Im
sorry, I dont understand." She held her hands up in front of him and slowly wiggled her
fingers. "You like?" she asked. Matt smiled and nodded. "How say?" she asked,
tapping her long pointer nail against its counterpart on her opposite hand. "Fingernails,"
Matt replied. "F...fink…finkah…," she hesitated. "Nails," Matt said with a smile,
"Nails." "Nayo," she said with a big smile. "Close enough," Matt chuckled. "You have
beautiful nails," he said smiling, "I love how long they are." The girl furrowed her brow.
"Long nails," Matt said clearly, holding his right pointer out in front of his left at some
distance to illustrate the meaning. "Loa nayo," she said spreading all ten fingers. Matt
smiled and nodded approvingly, and she smiled back. "I gotta loaaaaahhh nayo," she
giggled, nodding, and she poked his hand quickly with one. "Ouch!" Matt cried, pulling
back suddenly. "Theyre sharp!" he exclaimed, examining the red mark on the back of
his hand. "Yea shop," she said nodding, "I gotta loa, shop nayo!" The gorgeous young
woman raised one hand and curled her fingers, and she made a cat-like pawing
movement. "How say?" she asked. Matt curled his fingers and scratched at the bar top,
looking at her for affirmation. She nodded and repeated what hed done. "Scratch," Matt
enunciated, while noting that her nails had actually left lines in the polished wood bar.
"Skaash," she repeated as close as she could come to it, and Matt nodded. She looked at
him slyly and said, "You like skaash?" "Sure…well, you know, soft and gentle-like,"
Matt replied eagerly. "Ok," the girl said, slipped gracefully off her stool, and offered
Matt her hand palm-down, "We go make sex." Flabbergasted, Matt glanced skyward and
mouthed a silent thank you God, and he took her hand.
The beautiful girl led him slowly around the side of the bar and through a door into a
narrow hallway. Matt couldnt believe what was happening, how his luck had changed.
She might be the only beautiful young woman in the country with long nails, but hed
found her, and she wanted him! She wanted him for sex. Now. No wooing, no
courtship, no strings. Without the ability to communicate beyond a few words, all that
bullshit went out the window. As he followed her he noted that her straight black hair
was long down to her waist, and swished against her floor-length red silk robe when she
walked. The sound of her sandals clapping against the floor with each step reminded him
she also had the sexiest feet and longest, well-shaped toenails hed ever contemplated.
She was his fantasy come true. At the end of the hallway, a door opened onto a steep
wooden staircase, and the beautiful girl led him up to the second floor, where she opened
another door and ushered him ahead of her into a dark room. She closed the door behind
them softly, and he heard the turning of a deadbolt. Quickly, the girl lit one candle, then
another and another, until they were surrounded by soft flickering. The candles were
scented with jasmine like her perfume, and Matt felt himself becoming intoxicated by
the heavy and lush aroma. The room was sparsely furnished, with a few small tables that
held the rows of candles, and a large, round cushion in the center of the room draped with
red silk that matched her long robe. "We make sex," she said softly as she undid her very
long silk rope belt and uncoiled it from around her tiny waist, and let the two ends fall
around her feet like a crimson serpent. Then she held her robe open for Matt to see her
nakedness.
He rubbed his eyes, partly because they burned from the multitude of jasmine-scented
candles, and partly because he couldnt believe such a perfect body actually existed. Her
amber skin was flawless, her stomach was flat and her hips had just the perfect curve.
Her breasts were small but firm, with long, hard nipples projecting from the center of her
large brown areolas. She had a small, downy tuft of dark snatch, and her shapely legs
tapered down to those indescribably sexy little feet with long toes and long, oval-tipped
toenails. Matt began to unbutton his shirt, but she stepped up to him quickly and brushed
his arms aside. Sighing softly the girl placed her hands against his shoulders and left a
soft kiss on the side of his neck, then another on his Adams apple, and finally a third on
the other side of his neck, trailing her hot tongue against him in-between. Deftly she
unbuttoned his shirt while kissing slowly down his chest. She squealed softly as she
grabbed at his chest hair gently with her lips and rolled it around her tongue, while she
eased his shirt off his shoulders and ran those magnificent long nails down and up his
hairy arms. She rubbed her hard nipples against him and moaned approvingly. Men in
her country all had hairless bodies, and she was unabashedly turned-on by the novel
sensation of Matts thick growth.
The beautiful young woman kneeled down and she slipped her long thumbnails under
Matts belt, unbuckling it slowly. She unfastened his trousers and let them fall to the
ground. His erect dick made a large bulge in his briefs and she smiled and sighed
vocally, then she closed her eyes and nuzzled his hard bulge with her cheek while she
pressed her long thumbnails lightly into the inside of his thighs. Matts knees wobbled,
and he felt like he could cum at any moment, so he stepped back, and nearly tripped on
his trousers that were down around his ankles. The girl threw back her head with a toss
of her waist-length black hair, and she laughed. Matt stepped out of his trousers and
quickly took off his shoes and socks, and the girl stood up and pressed herself against
him again. She slipped her hands over his shoulders and around his neck and pressed her
long fingernails into the back of his neck, urging him to bend it down to meet her
upturned face. She closed her coal-black almond-shaped eyes slowly and just as slowly
parted her plump, glistening lips. Matt could feel every nerve-ending in his body respond
to her long, slow, wet kiss. It lasted more than a minute, growing more urgent with each
passing second. While they kissed, she made little satisfied moans deep in her throat, and
stroked her long manicured fingernails around and around his back lightly. When their
lips separated, they were both breathless, but him more than her. She flashed a victorious
smile and quickly engaged Matt in another dizzying kiss, this time not only caressing his
back with her long fingernails, but also caressing his leg slowly up and down, initially
with her velvet-soft soles and toes, and then with her long toenails.
Matt held her tight to him, and while they kissed a third time she ground herself against
him very slowly, causing the fabric of his briefs to rub against his throbbing erection.
The seduction techniques hed imagined these Asian long-nailed women might know,
paled in respect to the reality, and Matt found himself in a true battle not to cum
prematurely. He was already aroused beyond his wildest fantasy, and he was
overwhelmed with desire to fuck her. He urged her backward, toward the cushion, but
she slipped out of his embrace and wagged her pointer at him. "No no!" she scolded
playfully. Motioning him to stay where he was, she rested one knee on the cushion and
shrugged her silk robe off her shoulders and smiled over her shoulder at him while she
ran her long-nailed fingers slowly and sensuously from her gently-curved hips, up her flat
stomach, cupped her small but firm breasts, and massaged her large, hard nipples. Then
she beckoned him with a sensuous curl of her long-nailed pointer. Matt panted and
hastened to her, but she stood abruptly and pressed herself to him, again engaging him in
a long, tender kiss while softly caressing his back with her fingernails. As the kiss ended,
she lightly ran her nails up his sides and then urged him to raise his arms. Weak-kneed
and dizzy from her kiss, and aroused beyond rational thinking by her erotic touch, he
hardly noticed when in one smooth action, the girl tied one end of her long, silk rope belt
around his wrists, and tossed the other end over a heavy overhead plumbing pipe. "Hey,
what the…," Matt exclaimed, as she grabbed the free end of the rope and pulled until
Matts arms were raised above his head, and then she tied the rope off to a cleat on the
wall. "Whats going on?" Matt asked fearfully. "We make sex," she said softly.
Slowly, she peeled his briefs down. She gasped and her coal-black almond-eyes opened
wide when Matts rock-hard dick sprang free. "Oh yea, we make sex!" she exclaimed
nodding approvingly, and ran the back of a long fingernail lightly along his shaft. Matt
groaned urgently and his body shivered. The girl giggled and slithered her body around
behind him. Kissing him softly on the back of his neck she traced the tips of her nails
around the front of his throat and down onto his breastbone. "You like I gotta loa nayo,"
she whispered, teasing his earlobe with her lower lip as she spread her hand against his
chest. "Yessss," Matt gasped. Up-close he could only marvel at her nails, the way they
were all perfectly shaped, the way they shone like glass, the way they looked nicely-thick
and strong and just subtly curved. She drew circles around his nipple with her fingernails,
and strummed it with her thumbnail. "Loaaaaaah, shop nayo," she whispered again,
indenting her nails into his muscle. "Ohhhhhh…yes," Matt moaned. "I make skaash,"
she whispered. "Well, ok, but just as long as it isnt too hard. Soft is ok," he said. "I
make skaash," she repeated, and she dug her nails deep and then slowly dragged them
across his chest. "Agh! Shit! That fucking hurt! I said soft!" Matt cried. "Ok," she
murmured softly while she stroked his cheek with her fingernails and kissed and licked
his neck. Matt verged on hyperventilating from the overwhelming erotic stimulation, and
his thoughts were a jumble. "I make moa skaash," she whispered. "What? Wait!" he
gasped, panting and overcome by the sucking kisses she was leaving up and down his
neck. "Moa skaash," she said, and clawed his back hard with her other hand. "Jesus!
Damn!" he cried, and tears came to his eyes from the painful burn.
Matt peered down at his chest and saw that the girls sharp long fingernails had removed
the outer layers of his skin and left five open and bleeding lines. His back throbbed and
he imagined shed left similar wounds on it. Standing behind him, the sexy young
woman wrapped her arms around him and stroked her velvet-soft foot slowly up the side
of his leg, over his hip, and down to his groin. Softly she ran her toes through his pubic
hair and stroked them from the base of his hard penis to the head and back, and then
underneath to fondle his balls. She giggled when Matt moaned out loud. Gently she
repeated stroking his cock from base to head and back. "I gotta moa loa nayo," she
whispered, this time stroking his shaft with the tips of her quarter-inch long toenails. "Oh
God!" Matt panted, and he almost came. But the girl expertly stopped just in time, and
slid her foot back down his leg. Matt breathed a momentary sigh of relief, just then she
pressed the nail of her big toe hard into his heel and stepped down smartly. Like
lightning, the pain shot all the way to his head in a millisecond, and he screamed, "Fuck!
What the hell did you do that for?" She held her foot out front with her toes spread and
said, "Shop nayo. I make skaash." "Look, Im not into pain," Matt said sternly. She
tilted her head. "Ok?" Matt asked, unsure whether shed understood him or not. "Ok,"
she said with a single nod, and she slid around in front of him and began rubbing her hard
nipples in his chest hair. She placed her hands flat against his sides under his armpits.
"Ok I skaash moa," she said with a smile. "Agh! Fucking shit!" Matt cried when she
dug her strong, sharp long fingernails in hard and dragged them down his sides with
excruciating slowness. "I mean it! Im not into this! Cut it out!" Matt shouted angrily.
The girl shrugged and blinked her coal-black almond-shaped eyes vacantly, and then put
her arms around his neck and gave him a long, wet-hot kiss. She rested her forearms on
top of his shoulders and pulled herself up off the ground, then lowered herself against
him, capturing his hard cock between her thighs. Engaging him in another mind-blowing
kiss, the beautiful young woman began to slowly gyrate her hips. "We make sex," she
whispered, and although she hadnt taken his cock inside her, he could feel her wetness
and heat, and the sensation was wildly erotic. With her almond-shaped eyes almost
closed, she moaned softly in a whisper, and Matt felt her tighten all her muscles and hold
her breath, followed by a slight shiver and a long exhale. She opened her eyes a little,
and gave him the sexiest, smoldering-hot look hed ever seen. The girl parted her lips
and tapped her pointer nail against her straight brilliant-white teeth with their perfect,
chiseled edges. "How say?" she asked. "Huh? Teeth," Matt answered, slightly annoyed
shed interrupted the moment for an English lesson. "Tee?" she repeated, as she began
sucking at his neck, which made Matt moan with pleasure. "Yeah, whatever," Matt
panted. She smiled. Then she started gently biting, which elicited a long, blissful moan
from Matt. "How say?" she asked. "Bite," Matt answered breathlessly. "Bye," she
pronounced, as she quickened the pace of her gyrating hips against his hard cock
captured between her legs. Matt could tell she was ascending to another orgasm. Her
entire body tightened, she moaned aloud, "Oyyyyyyyyeeeee," and she sank her
teeth hard into his shoulder. Matt screamed but the girl didnt let up until her orgasm
passed. "We make sex, I gotta shop tee, make bye!" she panted breathlessly, still
recovering from her orgasm. When she smiled, Matt saw her brilliant white teeth were
stained with red. She closed her lips and licked her teeth with her tongue. "Shop tee,"
she said nodding at his shoulder. Matts eyes widened at the bloody bite mark shed left,
a perfect outline of all her teeth.
Matt strained and pulled at the silk rope that bound his wrists and held his arms
uncomfortably over his head, but the way shed tied it the harder he pulled the tighter it
got. Bloodied and throbbing, his fantasy was morphing into a nightmare. "Let me
loose!" he cried. The beautiful girl tossed her long, silken black hair and bowed her head
slightly, clasping her hands together prayer-like. It was the first time Matt had seen that
gesture done by a girl with long fingernails, and he found it extremely sexy, in addition to
the relief he felt at her agreement. But that dissipated quickly when instead of freeing
him, she pulled the cushion closer to him and reclined on it. The girl spread her perfect
legs wide apart and stared into Matts eyes. Slowly she inserted her middle finger into
her mouth and withdrew it wet with her saliva, then she began rubbing her clit in circles.
Matt watched helplessly, becoming more aroused with every moment as he watched her
pussy get wetter, and her become more and more turned-on. The beautiful young
woman returned her finger to her mouth once more, and then inserted it slowly, deep
inside her pussy. Matt watched her long, sexy fingernails glistening and dripping with
her juices. He watched her curl and uncurl her long toes, wrinkling and unwrinkling her
pale amber soles. He watched and listened to her claw the silk sheet with her long
toenails. Matt longed for her, longed to take her and fuck her with every ounce of his
being. But all he could do was watch as she pleasured herself just out of his reach as he
stood there with his hands tied above his head. She was taking her time, fingering
herself leisurely. Her coal-black almond-shaped eyes were open and stared into his, and
she had a hint of a smile on her lips. Matt knew she was purposely teasing him, and that
was exciting him all the more.
The girl reached her foot out slowly toward Matts dick which stood out from him rock-
hard, and she waved and wiggled her toes a fraction of an inch from it, making air-
currents that caressed and tantalized his cock head, which was swollen-purple, and
beyond over-sensitive. "Stop! Youre driving me insane!" he cried. Although she
didnt understand his words, she smiled knowingly, wickedly, and reached out with her
other foot as well. "Please…I cant take any more!" Matt begged. The girl rested her
soft pale-amber feet against his groin just to either side of his raging hard-on, and she
toyed with his pubic hair with her toes, making a crackling, rustling sound with her long
toenails. Matt moaned and the girl laughed softly. She turned her soles toward his
swollen cock and nodded at him. "Yes! Please! Do it!" Matt panted. Slowly she slid her
feet down a little and began rolling his balls between her soles. "Jerk...me…" Matt
pleaded hoarsely. She clasped his throbbing erection between her warm, soft soles and
asked, "Make sex?" "Oh Jesus yes! Finish me!" he whimpered. But instead of jerking
him between her soles as he hoped she would, Matts beautiful Asian temptress stroked
his shaft with her quarter-inch long toenails…feather-softly, and with such excruciating
slowness Matt teetered on the brink but couldnt quite cum. "Loaaaaaah nayo, you
liiiiiike," she cooed, holding him at the crest of explosion with the slow, gentle stroking
of her long, sexy toenails while she smiled and continued to finger herself leisurely. Matt
began to sob softly, his strength and spirit depleted from the constant state of hyper-
arousal.
Matts balls ached from the protracted teasing, and his body was sore and stiff from
standing for more than an hour with his arms tied above him and with all his muscles
tensed in continuous arousal, held on the verge of cumming by a more expertly-seductive
Asian girl than hed ever imagined even in his wildest fantasies. "Youre incredible, but
youre driving me insane, you know that?" Matt sighed, "Please, Im begging you. Its
enough. Let me down from here. Let me make love to you. Ill do anything you want
me to, anything you like. Pleeeeeasse!" But his words were merely unintelligible sounds
to her, and she blinked her coal-black almond-shaped eyes and looked at him vacantly.
With cat-like gracefulness she turned slowly around on the cushion facing away from
him and thrust her small but tight and perfect-shaped ass up in the air. Looking back over
her shoulder at him she smiled seductively at Matt and slowly licked her lips, while she
gently put one hand back on her ass and parted her cheeks with her long-nailed fingers to
give Matt a view of her wet, pink pussy. "We make sex?" she asked in an innocent-girly
voice, and then she laughed when Matt moaned with desire. Quickly she spun around on
her back and spread her legs wide, continuing to laugh at Matts helplessness and
frustration while she fondled her small, firm breasts with one hand, and strummed the
hard, dark nipples with her long fingernails. Meanwhile she continued to finger her
dripping-wet pussy with her other hand. Matt watched as her juices trickled over her
perfectly-shaped, nicely-thick inch-long fingernails, and licked his lips with frustrated
anticipation. Seeing that, the girl slowly slid her wet fingers up her body, over her
breasts, and into her waiting mouth. "Ahhhh," she said nodding and smacking her lips as
she licked and sucked her long fingernails slowly. "Please! We make sex?" Matt cried,
hoping that using the words he knew she understood would communicate his dire need.
The girl made a sad face and tilted her head to the side in a gesture of sympathy, then she
laughed heartily and combed her long fingernails through her long black hair to whisk it
off her face. She slid her ass forward on the cushion, closer to Matt, and raised her legs
in the air. She placed her feet against his face. "Moa loa nayo," she said stroking his
cheeks with her quarter-inch long toenails. She pressed her toes against his nose and
mouth and Matt inhaled the arousing, sexy scent of her feet. Feeling the sharpness of her
toenails against his lips, Matt opened his mouth and she thrust her toes inside. Matt
licked and sucked, feeling around her long toenails with his tongue and poking it between
her toes. He could hear her moans getting louder and quicker, and in a moment she
curled her toes tightly and screamed, "Ooooyyyyyyiiiee," yanked her toes out of his
mouth and cried, "Shop nayo, make skaash you!" as she dug her quarter-inch long
toenails into him just under his collarbone and raked them down hard and fast, over his
chest and belly and the front of his thighs. Matt felt like someone had thrown acid on
him. "Fucking God damn Jesus sonofabitch shit!" he screamed.
It took him several moments to catch his breath from the sudden pain, and then Matt
peered down the front of himself at the twin sets of five evenly-spaced blood-red lines
running from his neck to his knees on both sides. "Ive fucking had it with you, you
sadistic cunt!" he yelled, "Untie me, Goddammit! I want to go home! No fuck in the
world could be worth this shit!" But his anger quickly turned to a squeaky gasp of
pleasure when the lovely young woman, who hadnt understood a word hed said, kicked
the cushion away behind her, got on her knees and began to run the side of a long
fingernail slowly forward and back along his hard, swollen cock. "You like loa nayo
make sex," she giggled, looking up at the hapless expression of uncontrollable desire on
Matts face. The girl brushed his tender, supersensitive cockhead with her long black
hair and nuzzled his shaft with her cheek, and giggled at Matts heaving sigh. He didnt
even notice her grasp his hips, not until he felt her stab her long thumbnails into his inner-
thighs, and even though he tried to wrench free, she dragged them hard and slow almost
down to his knees. "I gotta shop nayo!" she smiled up at him, nodding, "Make skaash
you!" "Crazy bitch!" Matt screamed, but in a heartbeat he was back to panting with
desire for her, as she was holding his cock delicately in one hand, depositing feather-light
kisses slowly along the side of his shaft, and stroking underneath his shaft with her long
thumbnail. "You like I gotta loanayo?" she asked very softly, gently scratching his
huge, purple cockhead with her long fingernails. "Yesssss," Matt sighed breathlessly.
Then she began also nibbling the side of his cock gently with her straight, white teeth.
"You like I gotta shop tee?" she asked very softly. "Fuck yesssss!" Matt moaned. "Ok,
we make sex now," she whispered, beginning to get up, and slowly stroked her teeth and
fingernails one last time from the base of his cock to the tip. "Aaaaahhhhhhh….." Matt
grunted. The girl ducked her head sideways just in time to avoid getting hit with the
gushing spurts of his jizz. "Aaaaaaiiiiie, nooooooooo!" she screamed, followed by a
rapid-fire string of what clearly were curses and four-letter words in her language.
"I…Im sorry! Im sorry! Oh God, Im soooooooorrrrrry!" Matt cried, with the most
pained and apologetic expression, hoping for a glimmer of forgiveness in her look. But
her coal-black almond-shaped eyes glared with disappointment and contempt. "Skaash
you loa shop nayo!" she screamed, and she reached up and clawed both sides of his hips
as hard as she could with her inch-long thick, strong, sharp fingernails. Even as Matt
screamed in agony, she grabbed his ass with her nails and yelled, "Bye you shop tee!"
sank her straight, white teeth deep into the front of his thigh, and didnt let go at least for
a count of ten while Matt screamed at the top of his lungs.
The beautiful Asian girl stood up and stared into Matts eyes indignantly. "I like we
make sex!" she whined petulantly, and she pounded his chest with her fists. "Im sorry! I
couldnt help it!" Matt exclaimed. The girl shook her head and shrugged. Matt sighed
and rolled his eyes and muttered to himself, "Shit, I wish you could understand me." She
pressed herself against him and held his face in her hands and took a deep breath,
quelling her anger. "I like we make sex," she whined softly, and she kissed his lips, at
first gently, then with more fervor and more tongue, while she massaged her thigh against
his flaccid cock. Feeling nothing happening, she sighed plaintively and let her lustrous,
sexy inch-long fingernails trail off his cheeks. At that she felt his cock stir against her
leg, and she opened her almond-shaped eyes wide and smiled brightly. "Ohhh!" she
giggled, "You liiiiiiike loa nayo!" Thrusting her tongue far into his mouth, the beautiful
Asian girl wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself up, spread her legs and
wrapped them around him as she took his erect cock deep inside her steaming-hot pussy.
"Oh yea! We make sex!" she half-moaned, half-cried. She reached up with one hand
and clawed at the knots of his bindings until they came loose. His arms painfully sore
and stiff, Matt slowly was able to lower them and embrace her as they stumbled
backward onto the silk-draped cushion. "Oooooh, we make sex!" the seductive young
woman squealed, her little tight pussy filled with Matts throbbing cock. "Im never
going back home," he panted, "I think I love you." "Loa shop nayo, skaash you!" she
cried as she clawed his back raw.
-
Jana und ihre Mutter
Jana und ihre Mutter
Die folgende Geschichte ist mir wirklich passiert und ist keine Phantasie oder so. Es ist wirklich unglaublich und das geilste was mir in meinem mittlerweilen 31 jährigen Leben passiert ist:
Ich war damal 15 und ging auf eine Realschule in Nordeutschland.Ich fing langsam an, mich für Mädchen zu interessieren und hatte auch schon eine " erste " Freundin. Die hieß Jana und war genau so alt wie ich. Wir trafen uns öfter nach der Schule, bei Ihr zu Hause oder bei mir. Ihre Eltern waren sehr wohlhabend und ihr Vater war viel geschäftlich unterwegs. Eines Tages an einem nicht zu kalten Herbstnachmittag hatte wir uns wieder einmal bei ihr verabredet. Ich war früh dran und stellt mein Fahrad in das große Car port wo meisten 2 große Mercedes standen und ein Porsche 911 Carbriolet, dass Frau Sander (Janas Mutter) meistens fuhr. Heute standen nur die beiden Mercedes dort und ich dachte Schade. Denn ich mochte Janas Mutter sehr. Und wenn ich ehrlich bin, dann kann ich sagen, dass sie mir eigentlich besser gefiel wie ihre Tochter. Es war wirklich eine Klasse Luxus Frau. Ich klingelte an der großen Eichernen Eingangstür. Es öffnete mir Frau Lange, die Haushälterin der Sanders.
" Hallo Jens, Jana mußte dringend zum Zahnarzt, sie wird aber wohl bald wiederkommen. Ich muß jetzt leider auch los aber Du kannst ja so lange in Janas Zimmer warten, Du kennst Dich ja aus"
Ich wollte schon abwinken und wieder nach Hause fahren aber dann überlegte ich es mir doch anders. " OK, Frau Lange ich gehe dann mal nachen oben. " Nebenbei bemerkt Sie noch, dass Frau Sanders zur Maniküre und zum Friseur gefahren ist, aber auch bald wieder kommen würde. Da leuchtete mein Herz innerlich auf und ich blieb natürlich da.
Nun war ich allein in der riesigen Villa mit bestimmt 12 Zimmern und wußte nicht so recht was ich machen sollte. Ich ging ins Wohnzimmer und guckte hier und da. Aber dann wurde ich neugierig und ging nach oben. Das Schlafzimmer der Eltern war dabei mein Ziel und wie ich da so vor dem riesigen Ehebett stand dachte ich
daran wie Herr Sander es mit seiner Frau treiben würde, mit diesem Luxusweib. Ich ging zum Schuhschrank (Schuhe hatten mir es schon immer angetan, auch heute noch) dort standen bestimmt 30 Paar Pumps herum, einige mit sehr hohen Absätzen und ich hatte Frau Sander schon häufiger in so hohen Absätzen gesehen und es sah toll aus.Während ich so da stand und die Schuhe beguckte und auch in die Hand nahm, merkte ich plötzlich das meine Hose im Schritt immer enger wurde. Ich rieb einen der Absätze an meinem Penis. Die Hose behielt ich dabei noch an. Als nächstes ging ich zum Kleiderschrank und öffnete ihn. Die Mäntel von Frau Sanders hatten es mir angetan. Besonders die Trenchcoats die sie häufig trug. Von den hingen bestimmt 5- 6 im Schrank.
Meine Latte wurde immer härter und ich zog die Hose runter, wenn jemand kommen würde, könnte ich es gut hören, und rieb meinen Penis an dem dünnen Trenchcoat Stoff. Ich roch an dem Mantel und dachte an Frau Sander, dabei wurde ich immer geiler. Plötzlich hörte ich ein Motorengeräusch in der Auffahrt. Ich zog mich schnell wieder an und machte die Schranktür zu. Schnellen Schrittes ging aus dem Schlafzimmer auf den langen Flur. Auf dem Weg nach unten konnte ich den roten Porsche sehen, der jetzt auf der Auffahrt stand. Ich lief schnell nach unten und setzte mich ins Wohnzimmer und schaltete den Fernseher ein. Dann hörte ich die Eingangstür. " JANA ? Bist Du da ? " hörte ich die mir vertraute Stimme rufen. " nein, Frau Sander, ich bins, Jens. Jana hatte Zahnschmerzen sagte Frau Lange und ist zum Zahnarzt"
Da stand sie in der Wohnzimmertür. Mir raste das Herz, was für eine Frau, dachte ich bei mir. " Guten Tag Jens " Ha..Ha..Hallo Frau Sander " stotterte ich heraus. Sie sah wundervoll aus. Ihre blonden Haare hatten eine neue Dauerwelle bekommen. Ihr Mantel war geschlossen, so dass ich nicht sehen konnte was sie darunter trug, nur ihre Pumps auf denen sie stand konnte ich sehen und die raubten mir fast den Atem. Sie waren aus schwarzen Lackleder und bestimmt 10cm hoch. Mir wurde regelrecht schwindelig bei dem Anblick.
" Kannst Du mir bitte mal tragen helfen? " Ich war wie von Sinnen" Jens? " - ja natürlich nt...entschuldigen sie bitte " - Ich habe noch einen Einkaufbummel gemacht, die Taschen sind noch draußen im Wagen. Wir gingen hinaus.Und als sie die Autotür aufmachte stockte mir erneut der Atem. Erst jetzte erinnerte ich mich das Frau Lange sagte, dass Frau Sander zur Maniküre wollte. Ich sah ihre langen rot lackierten Fingernägel, mit dem Daumen drückte sie das Schloß auf. Ich konnte meinen Blick gar nicht mehr davon wenden. Es sah einfach geil aus. Sie hatte perfekte Hände. Ich konnte mir sonst was vorstellen. Mein Herz raste bis zum Hals. Ich trat hinter sie und half ihr bei den Taschen, die meisten waren aus einer Boutique deren Name ich wohl kannte. Ich roch ihr Perfum, es war sehr erotisch und roch sehr teuer. Ich berührte wie zufällig ihren Trench und war völlig fassungslos. Wir gingen wieder ins Haus. " Stell Die Taschen bitte in den Flur oben " hörte ich sagen, aber ich nahm es gar nicht richtig auf. Ich war ganz woanders mit meinen Gedanken.
" Jens ?, was ist denn heute mit Dir los? " - Nichts, gar nichts " erwiderte ich,aber das stimmte natürlich nicht. Aber was hätte ich denn sagen sollen ? Sie hätte
mich womöglich fur verruckt erklärt und mich rausgeschmissen. Sie fragte mich, ob ich etwas trinken wolle. Ich bejahte und wir gingen in die Kuche, erst jetzt öffnete sie ihren Mantel, ich sah ihre langen roten Krallen die Knöpfe öffnen, und konnte nichts anderes wie hinstarren. Ihre Nägel sahen so geil aus. Sie bemerkte wohl mein starren, denn sie lächelte mich verschmitzt an, sagte dann. " Hangst Du meinen Mantel bitte an die Gaderobe ? " - Ja, gerne" Sie hielt mir ihren Trenchcoat hin und ich nahm ihn Ihr ab. Dabei waren ihren wundervollen rot lackierten Fingernägel direkt vor meinen Augen. Ich tat wie mir geheißen und hängte den wunderbaren beigen Mantel an die Garderobe, dabei nahm ich ihn ganz unaufällig direkt vor mein Gesicht und roch noch mal daran
Als ich zuruck ind die Kuche ging ,goß sie mir gerade ein Glas Coca Cola ein und stellte es auf den Kuchentisch," setz Dich doch, bitte" Sie trug ein elegantes Kostum mit einem kurzen engem blauem Rock und einem passendem zweireihigen Blazer, was sie darunter trug konnte ich leider nicht sehen, aber es war wohl ein weißer Body, oder so.Sie schenkte sich selber auch ein Glas Cola ein und setzte sich mir gegenuber an den Kuchentisch. Ich beobachtete ihre Hände, wie sie mit den langen rot lackierten Krallen das Glas hielten. Wir saßen uns stumm gegenuber und ich konnte nicht anders, als Ihre Nägel anstarren. Sie machten mich so geil, dass ich schon die ganze Zeit uberlegte ob ich auf Klo gehen sollte um mir einen runterzuholen. Diese Frau machte mich einfach wahnsinnig. " Jens, was bist Du denn so nervös, gefallen Dir meine roten Nägel nicht? Ich wußte nicht, was ich sagen sollte und stotterte nur " Doocchh Frau Sander, sie sind wunderschön" - Du stehst auf lange rot lackierte Fingernägel ? " - Ja, sehr " - Das brauch Dir doch nicht peinlich sein, viele Männer mögen es, schau sie Dir ruhig an " Dabei hielt sie mir ihre wundervollen Hände direkt vor mein Gesicht. Es waren herrliche Fingernägel, etwa 2cm uber die Kuppe und knallrot lackiert. Möchtest Du sie anfassen? " Ich sagte nichts. Und sie ergriff die initiative, sie strich mir mit dem Fingernagel des Mittelfingers uber meinen Mund.
-
Jenny Nails Her Jerk Date
Jenny Nails Her Jerk Date
written by: M.C. e-mail address:
cooper@rclsgi5.eng.ohio-state.edu
Jake was a basic tough guy, but he was really more like a
total asshole. He drifted mostly, ever since getting out of
prison on a rape charge. He wasn't really nice to women, or
really anyone for that matter. He just moved into his new
apartment, and was checking out the balcony view when
Jenny pulled up in her wicked red corvette. She extended her
sexy toned legs out the door and stood up with a loud "Click"
of her 5-inch spike black ankle strap sandal heels. Her short
tight red dress showed lots of her strong legs, as well as her
very sexy big breasts, displaying attention-getting cleavage.
She turned flopping her waist length thick curly jet black hair
over her shoulder and loudly strutted towards the apartments.
She adjusted her dark sunglasses, wrapping her sexy 2-inch
curved red talon-like fingernails around the lens frame.
"Damn", Jake thought, checking her out, staring at her
large tanned breasts' cleavage, and her strong rhythmically
flexing thighs and calves. But Jake didn't know what type of
woman Jenny was, just what she looked like to him. Jenny
belonged to a small underground fellowship of gifted women.
These women all have amazing qualities, like tremendous
strength and agility, incredible beauty, and unbelievably
strong and long fingernails. The best description is a league
of secret Catwomen. Some lead relatively normal lives, some
only tell their husbands, and some are more like secret police
looking out for fellow women. Jake only saw what he'd have
with for a night, weather she was willing or not. Jenny knew
he was checking her out, so she made sure to walk
provocatively as to gain his full attention.
When she got to her door, Jake was there. "So baby,
what is your name," he asked while only making eye contact
with her breasts. She placed the tip of her long curved index
nail on his chin and forced his head back while saying, "Jenny
is my name." Her nails are very sharp despite being square
round tipped. "Ouch baby, you aught to watch those crazy
nails of yours," Jake said now staring at her beautiful face,
locked in her dark stare. She then proceeded to unlock her
door and just then Jake put his foot in the door way saying,
"Hold on a second, maybe dinner tonight?" She rapped her
long talons on the door loudly, giving him a wicked stare with
her green eyes, and said, "Well are you sure you don't have
any other plans?" "Heck no lady, I just moved in," Jake said.
"Well ok, if you bring some wine, I'll fix something up," she
said while smiling suggestively. With that, Jake took of,
saying he'd be down in about an hour. "Perfect," Jenny
thought to herself as she closed the door. She began to
prepare herself for the evening of feminine torture, slipping
out of her clothes, bra, and panties, getting completely naked.
She then slipped her toned curvy body into a tight black
stretch cat suit. She replaced her wicked 5-inch spike sandal
heels and strutted into the kitchen. She liked the way her big
firm breasts bounced against the tight stretchy fabric, rubbing
her large brown nipples to near full erection. Her strong
flexing thigh and calf muscles readily showed their strength
through the fabric as well. Once in the kitchen, she had a
quick snack, and for him she whipped up a peanut butter and
jelly sandwich.
Jake knocked at the door, and he was amazed at how
loud her high heels were, hearing them clearly through the
door. As she opened the door, she loudly ran her nails along
the hardwood, making a menacing scratching hiss. "Why
hello Jake......How do you like my outfit?" she sexily drawled
out. "Damn girl, you look like a wicked woman, all that wild
thick brunette hair and eye makeup and those damn long nails
of yours," he said as he primarily stared at her large
intimidating breasts. "Well it is a look you'll have to live
with, maybe," she said chuckling at her phrasing. He stared
at her strong curvy legs as she walked to the kitchen, loudly
clicking her dagger heels against the yielding hardwood floor.
"Well I bought some red wine; I swear I got ripped off,
paying ten bucks for some booze," he said as he followed her.
"Well I've already eaten, so her is a little something I fixed
for you," she said handing him the sandwich. He had a really
angry look on his face, and Jenny asked, "What is wrong
Jakie boy? You gonna hit me like your former female
victims?" "Why you toying bitch!" Jake angrily said as he
tried to smack her. Jenny just lifted her hand and caught his
wrist, instantly bringing his strong arm to a dead halt. "What
the hell?!" Jake said just before he cried out in pain as Jenny
twisted his arm with her left hand and clutched his face with
her right.
"Want to feel how strong Jenny is little Jakie?" she
said as she slowly squeezed his face, slowly gripping her long
talon-like nails into his cheeks. She stared at him, holding his
impaled face in one hand and twisting his arm to near
breaking in the other. "OUCH LET ME GO!!" he cried as she
grinned wickedly, now digging her 2 inch curved red nails in
harder and harder, impaling deeply into his face drawing
blood. Jenny loved this, absolutely overpowering this woman
beater, and overpowering him by completely feminine means.
"Maybe I want to DIG my long nails through your face and
into your mouth and gums," she said meanly as she tightened
her grip, sinking her feminine fingernails almost through his
cheek. Jake was screaming horribly from Jenny's
talon-like nails and how she was using them. Still holding his
face in her now bloody grasp, she released his arm and placed
her left hand on his chest. She then slowly pulled her curved
sharp claws down his chest, tearing his shirt and welting his
skin. "Oh my, I can do such damage to you with my claws,"
she said filled with smug feminine power as she raked him
slowly again, causing long angry scratches that quickly
welled up with blood. As he cried she, with her grip on his
impaled face, pulled him off balance and threw him to the
floor.
"Grovel at my perched feel, my doomed male
plaything," she ordered. He crawled quickly to her tanned
size 6 1/2 feet. He could not believe this, at the feet of a
woman. He began kissing her exposed ankles, licking around
the fabric cuff of her
Cat suit. She then trapped his hand, part of his fingers and
part of his palm, under the sole of her right foot and slowly
stood atop him while saying, "I said to KISS my FEET now
get too it." She smiled as she bore down harder on his
trapped hand, noting how pretty her perched foot looked with
a man's hand under it. "Ouchhhh...ooooohhh," Jake cried as
he felt his flesh and bone being stressed to the max. He
moved his kisses to her tanned foot tops, kissing with a bit
more effort now, not wanting to anger her further. "Kiss," she
said as she arched her foot forward placing most of her
weight on the ball of her foot and thus atop his poor hand. He
cried into the deep high arch of her crushing foot as he licked,
worshiping this Mistress trying to receive mercy. She showed
none as she twisted with near full weight atop his hand,
tearing the skin from his flattening knuckles. "Does it hurt
when I do that?" she teasingly asked as she stared at his now
bloody hand trapped beneath her wicked perched foot.
"Yes!!!! Yes it hurts you stupid bitch!" Jake cried to her.
Jenny swiftly and quickly positioned herself so that both of
her feet were trapping his arms, with the balls of her feet and
toes atop his wrists and her deadly spike heels hovering above
his palms. "What are you doing you stupid bitch, what are
you doing to me?" Jake cried out.
"Well you shouldn't yell insults to your DEADLY
MISTRESS," Jenny said as she slowly rested her 5 inch spike
black stiletto heels on his palms, and then slowly shifted her
weight atop them. Jake was crying out again, not believing
what he was seeing and experiencing; a beautiful brunette
standing on both his wrists and digging her high heels into his
hands extremely hard, and he couldn't do anything. He never
ever had a woman completely overpower him. "Oh I just
love this!" she said as she increased the weight on her heels,
really digging her spikes in harder and so deep making his
hands involuntarily try to curl up. "I love the feel, the feeling
of an asshole male's hands impaled under my spikes," she
cooed as she nearly stood atop only her heels, crushing them
through his hands with a gruesome bone crushing and flesh
squishing sound. "Ouchhhhhhh! Please lady, pleaseeeee let
me go! Damn this hurts!" Jake said crying and sobbing to
her. "Kiss my feet," she simply said.!
He did so in earnest now, truly fearing for his life. As he
kissed her toes and high arches, he could not believe how
painful her sexy high heels were, or how bloody and
destroyed his hands were. She flexed her sexy tanned feet a
few times, lifting her mean spike heels so she could
reposition them and stand back down on his poor hands. Jake
was crying like a baby now, which seemed to satisfy Jenny.
She just simply began to walk, stepping right on the back of
his head crushing his face into the floor, then stepping onto
his back, then butt, and then legs all with hard deeply sinking
heel first steps. "Ouchhhh, sob, cry," went poor Jake as she
walked on him and on into the living room. "Come on in
here Jakie boy, I want to move on to my next bit of torture!"
Jenny said full of lust.
Jake limped as he crawled; his hands were too
painfully crushed for him to put much pressure upon them.
Jenny loved seeing him limp, seeing the pain in his male eyes
from the damage she inflicted on him. She ordered him to
stand with his back flat against the wall, and then she secured
his wrists and ankles spread apart to the wall with cuff she
had installed. "Now to do the one thing I like better than
using my high heels, using my LONG NAILS!" Jenny purred,
outspreading her nails on his shirt and pulled, ripping it from
his body. Then she placed her long nails on his neck, and
slowly raked them down his chest ending at his belly button.
Her nails left sore red welts, but didn't break the skin yet. "I
just LOVE using my long feminine nails on a man, punishing
him with them," she said as she again raked her nails slowly
down his body, her perfect tan hands so gracefully dragging
her dark red talons over his flesh. Jake was squirming from
the pain as well as pleasurable sensation of her intense claws
raking up his skin. She then raked her claws across his chest,
allowing Jake a great view of her sexy hands, curled longish
fingers, and wickedly curved red 2-inch talons. She raked
slightly harder this time, really pulling his skin with her sharp
nails, drawing blood. "Oh my, I do believe I'm enjoying
having you over Jake," she purred as she raked her nails
across his chest again only very slowly and very hard, making
her beautiful nails cut and tear his sore skin open, leaving
mean looking gouge-like welts that oozed blood. "Ohhhhh!!!
Please lady, please stop, PLEASE!!! You're hurting me!" Jake
screamed out, wanting some mercy that he'd never show.
"Of course I'm hurting you stupid. Don't you realize
how turned on I get by using my nails on a piece of shit like
you, using my nails so forcefully and painfully, just clawing
and shredding your flesh for my pleasure?" she said as she
slowly pulled her sharp digging nails down his chest. Her
nails raked very mean gouge-like welts down his chest that
quickly turned red with blood. "Oh yeeessss! I love to
wickedly use my nails on you Jake!" she moaned as she
dragged her nails down his skin again inflicting more of her
feminine pain and damage on him. Poor Jake was screaming
as she tore into his flesh, and he just couldn't believe the
strength of her long talon-like curved fingernails. Again and
again Jenny clawed her sexy long nails down poor Jake,
covering his chest with bleeding deep scratches. "Oh I can
scratch even harder Jakie boy, wana feel?" she coyly said,
placing her long nails on the shredded skin of his chest.
"NNOOO! Please lady, just STOP, I can't take this any
more!" Jake cried out.
"Oh I should have mercy on you. I know, I'll show just as
much mercy that you showed to the women you victimized,
when they begged you for mercy," she said while clenching
her long curved nails against his bleeding chest. He just
shook his head, knowing he was a screwed piece of shit. She
smiled wickedly as she dug her nails deeply into him harder
and harder, and then slowly dragged her nails down his chest.
"OOUUUCCCCHHHHH!!! He screamed as her impaled
fingernails dragged THROUGH his flesh and skin, dragging
down his chest while still impaled more than a half inch deep
into him. Her nails were just carving wicked deep furrows
across his chest, slicing through meat and skin. "Oh I'm so
turned on" Jenny moaned as she raked her nails down further,
slicing wickedly across his belly and ending at his genitals. "I
simply cannot explain how much I love using my 2 inch long
fingernails in such a wickedly mean manner, and I love
causing and inflicting serious damage like this!"!
Jenny said with near orgasmic enthusiasm. Jake was limp
against the wall restraints and crying from the severe damage
Jenny had inflicted with her long nails. She looked at her
pretty hands and long curved bloody nails and at the wounds
she caused, and smiled. "I do love using my nails!" she said
as she outspread her talons on his face.
He was pleading for mercy as she squeezed his face
harder and harder, digging her talons deeper and deeper into
his cheeks. She had a driven look on her face as she dug her
claws in deeper completely impaling her nails through his
cheeks and she said, "I could totally fuck you up Jake." She
started to pull her nails down, tearing and stretching his
cheeks slowly making him scream and bleed. "I could just
tear your face apart with my long nails," she said as she
pulled more, really tearing his poor cheeks, his flesh
completely unable to endure the strength and sharpness of her
long feminine talons. He just moaned in terrible pain as her
nails slowly tore his flesh, but Jenny knew not to pity him
repeatedly like society had, and began pulling his face apart.
Her impaled talons pulled through his cheeks destroying his
mouth, and she gripped his face forcefully and pulled her
talons down his face again, and again, and again just
completely shredding his face. He was screaming in terrible
agony having to endure having a sexy woman rake up his face
but this was no ordinary woman, as Jenny has nails that will
shred to the bone!
Then Jenny dug her beautiful 2-inch long curved
fingernails into his eyes slowly so as to enjoy herself to the
fullest. "I loved making your face into an ugly shredded mess
with my long nails Jake, and now for a slow down lap," she
said as she slowly dug her nails into his eyes, just causing
enough damage to impair his vision; to blur his ability to spot
out sexy women and do them harm. Jake just moaned and
cried as her nails were digging against his eyes then he passed
out. Jenny was very aroused at what she had done, and very
impressed at what her long sexy nails can do. She hadn't
realized how turned on she had gotten, as her cat suit was
quite wet. To end the evening, she simply vacated the
apartment and dumped Jake in an alley.
"I wonder what my next asshole victim will be like?" she
wondered.......
-
Jessica
A brief history of Jessica........
Jessica was such a good-looking chic.......to me the hottest senior at our high
School. And she really bloomed into a hot woman, very busty, feminine toned
curvy strong body, and clothes that showed it off. i was a year behind her,
and had lusted after her for years before as she had another quality, very long
strong fingernails.
i remember overhearing a conversation of hers last year with another
girl about her nails. She was saying how some guy at a dance would not leave
her alone and put his hand on her shoulder. She then said she grabbed his hand
and dug her 1 1/2 inch clear polished nails into his hand hard. He cried out as
she said, "Leave me alone you looser," and squeezed much harder. She then said
she noticed her hand was covered in his blood, and noticed the terrified look
in his eyes. She commented on how she was turned on by the whole thing and
how, when she released him, said, "Let me know when you want to hold hands
again," and laughed at him. The two girls giggled again about the whole thing.
Then they saw me spellbound by the whole thing and just walked off. Ever
since then she has driven me crazy, and now she has developed into such a head
turner of a woman.
Well my first class was a science class, and we had to be in groups of
two. Most people had already grouped, leaving me by myself or so i thought. i
could hear a late coming girl as she was soo loud in the hall with her Dr.
Scholls wood sandals. it was Her! damn she looked so good, wearing a tight
white T-shirt, cut off jeans and barefoot in those sandals. Her legs were so
nice and muscular and tanned. the guy teacher was kinda annoyed at her, and
said, "Pair up with a partner, like marc over there." i just kinda gulped at
the idea, both excited and very nervous. "Hi Jessica." "Hi, what is this
stupid experiment about anyway," she said. "Don't worry, i'm good at
science......it is about studying these snails in this little fake pond,
observing what they eat and do...."
"Great, they do nothing but bore me," she said as she plopped down her
books. I started filling in the required information on our sheet, and she
kinda observed and was tapping her long nails loudly. "i love your nails," i
said. "What!?" she blurted out. "Well don't take it the wrong way, but i think
your nails, being so long and curved, really add to your already awesome
feminine beauty," i said hoping she wouldn't get mad. "You really think
that?" she asked. "Yes!", i said.
"Why thanks, that is really nice, but I like having them for reasons in
addition to beauty," she said. "Well, when you were talking to your friend
about squeezing that guy till he bled, well i would have wanted to hold your
hand all the time," i added. "You overheard us talking and remembered that conversation from a year ago?" she asked. "Yes, your long nails and your attitude, well seems really cool to me," I said. She approached me and outspread her nails in front of me while saying, "So, you're into the idea of powerful wicked women." "Yes," i said. "Hummmmmm, very interesting," she said. Then the teacher said, "Lets get busy and get to work on the lab."
"Oh ok," she said in a slightly annoyed tone. We started back to work,
and she was still rapping her nails with a knowing smirk on her face. She was
still getting bored about this whole thing and began amusing herself, looking
at her long sexy nails, then at her legs and feet, arching her feet in her loud
shoes. "Look at that snail there," i said, observing him crawling on the upper
rim of the container. "This one?" she said as she grabbed the nickel-sized
snail between her thumb and index nail. "He annoys me," she said, and with a
mischievous smile, dug her nails into him. CRACKKKKK......OOOOOZE went the
snail. i was silent as she held the poor creature, impaled on her pinching long
claws, and then just said "WOW". Her nails had dug right through his shell so
easily, and his ruptured flesh was oozing onto her sexy nails. "That was fun
hurting him," she said as she released her grip, letting him fall to her feet.
"Good-bye boring little guy," she said as she then stepped on him, loudly
crushing his body under her hard Dr. Scholls. She shifted her weight a bit,
flexing her foot into an arched tippy toe position making the snail squish out
partially from under her shoe. "And that was fun crushing him to death too,"
she added. i was looking at her, her now excited big nipples hardened and
poking through her T shirt, her legs flexed, and her face full of sexual power
and desire. "i think you are so awesome and beautiful Jessica," was all i
could think of to say. She knew she was hot and smiled back.
We continued the lab, but it was hard concatenating. She was
occasionally killing other snails with her claws.....placing them on the table
and digging her nails through, cutting the poor creatures in half. Then as i
was working on the long summary of our work, she acted interested, standing
close to be, grazing her huge D cup breasts against my arm. i'd look at her
and she would just smile and say, "What?" As i read over the summary, she
placed her hand on my shoulder and began squeezing her long curved claws into
me. My talking became a bit choppy as she dug her nails in a bit harder, letting me feel their power and sharpness. I was rock hard from feeling her gorgeous wicked nails and seeing her pretty tan hand digging them into me. She then placed her hard sandal partially on my foot and applied pressure while pressing her big breasts against my arm. As she slowly stood on my toes she said, "Am I standing too close?" while engulfing me arm with her awesome firm breasts. "No, it is ok," I barely said as I was being overwhelmed by her breasts, presence, and the pain of her nails and weight. She then said, "Well hurry up and finish the report so I can leave," as she squeezed her nails into my shoulder slowly harder and harder. I glanced at her sexy fingers and her impaling nails gripping my poor sore shoulder. I started moaning softly in pain as tears welled up in my eyes. "Oh you poor thing," she said as she stood completely on foot, crushing my toes under her beautiful body wei!
ght. I looked over at her breasts noting her big nipples were fully erect and checked out her beautiful flexed leg crushing me with her Dr. Scholl sandal.
"Here you are Jessica, it is complete," I cried to her. "Good," she said as she snatched it from me and loudly strutted over to the teacher, handing it in. He complemented her as well as our group effort. "See you next week, lab partner," she said as she giggled and clicked her way out of the room. I gathered up my books and nearly stumbled to the floor as my foot was killing me. And then I looked at my shoulder, her nails caused 4 neat crescent shaped red marks even through my shirt! Damn I was rock hard with excitement!
I couldn't wait till next week. Even though she only liked me to hurt me, I was totally into her and loved her mean treatment of me. I saw her a few times in the hall and said hi, but she'd just give me a mean irritated at me look. When it was the day before lab class, I saw her and she indifferently handed me a note. It said, "I would recommend you wear boots tomorrow." I really didn't know what she was getting at, but I would do what she told me.
The next day I was early to class, making sure I was in the same lab area so the two of us wouldn't be easily watched. The bell was about to ring and I could hear her walking in the hall. She was pretty loud, then I saw why, she was wearing 5 inch spike black pumps. She looked so good, with those pumps, tight jeans, and tight white blouse. "Ready to do this lab......Partner?" she said as she plopped her books down. Then I also noticed she polished her nails dark red! Damn her nails looked so wicked.
Well this experiment had to do with heat capacity and had more calculations, which I knew she was easily smart enough to do but she didn't feel like it as it bored her. So I kept busy, and she was driving me crazy by tapping her nails loudly. She'd also run them through her long blond hair, and rake them along her notebook leaving marks! She then stood really close to me again, her firm breasts against my arm as she strokingly pulled her nails down my back. "How's the lab going my pet," she drawled out as she now raked her nails down hard. "Ohhhhh it is going ok," I said. She squeezed my neck with her beautiful sharp red claws as she said, "Well I want an A on this report......Understand?" She then placed her tall spike heel on my foot and slowly stood atop me. I looked down at her tanned feet in heels, watching her towering spike indent my leather hiking boot. Then I really felt the pain of her heels as she pushed harder, making me whimper out, "Yes Jessica, I understand!
." As I wrote, she increased the pressure on my foot while still raking my back slowly, really letting her nails rake my flesh. Her nails were so hard and sharp I was waiting for them to tear my shirt. She was loving her torture session and really increased the pressure on my foot, putting nearly all her perfect feminine body weight atop her impaling high heel. Her Dr. Scholls were nothing compared to this, thankfully she warned me to wear boots. "What's wrong dear, why are you crying?" she teased knowing her feminine weapons were painfully inflicted on me. "Your nails and heels Jessica hurt so much," I whimpered to her. "Well I haven't even begun using my claws," she said as she placed her right hand on my forearm.
"Look at my beautiful nails, so long and perfectly grown," she said as she pawed my arm. Then she began digging her nails into my forearm slowly harder and harder, her hand and fingers and nails formed into a perfect sexy catwoman claw. "Ouch, ouchhhhhhh, Jessica your nails are really painful," I whimpered. "Well you had better finish soon and get me an A," she said as she dug harder causing an intense aching sensation. As I completed the last sentence she said, "This is an opportunity for you to see as well as feel the power of my feminine nails and what I love to do with them," she said as she squeezed harder and harder! I was cringing in pain and fear as I felt and saw my arm being impaled by her incredible long fingernails! "Oh look at my claws," she softly moaned as my blood oozed around her impaling nails. "That just turns me on," she said as she squeezed so hard digging her nails in deeper and deeper really cutting into me. I tried not to cry aloud as everyone !
would instantly look. I was in intense pain yet was pre-cumming in my pants! Finally she released me and withdrew her cutting fingernails and said, "Now look at the marks, the wounds I can inflict with my feminine nails." My poor arm had three mean looking crescent wounds that continued to ooze blood, and a fourth smaller less bleeding wound from her pinky nail. "Well I'll go hand this in," she said as she strutted off, clicking her spike heels as she walked. She was so awesome to me, so powerful. I looked at my arm again, really realizing what just happened. She honestly dug the crap out of my arm with her extremely long fingernails! I was in such a shock like horny state. Then I looked at my boot and saw a deep divot in the shoe leather and realized she could pin me to the floor with her spiky shoes. I was rinsing off my arm as she strolled back and she said, "Well I had fun, so see you next week." I tried talking more to her but she walked off-click, click, click.
That night, and for several nights, I must admit I creamed for her. Just the way she treated me, like I was so expendable for her pleasure, for her pleasure of using her fingernails and high heels on a poor boy, was soooo exciting to me! I was pretty bummed that I would have to wait a week to see her. Well about 3 days later, I was running to school as I was late. Then a very new BMW pulled beside me and beeped. A very pretty older lady said, "You want a ride?" Then I recognized that it was Jessica in the back seat and that lady was her mom. I could see where Jessica got her good looks from, her mom was a busty knock-out. When I was seated in the back seat, her mom reached around to introduce herself. Her mom had the most awesome 3 inch curved red fingernails I'd ever seen in my life. "Wow, your nails are very pretty, now I see how Jessica has such pretty hands and nail," I said. "I see, you're the boy Jess was talking about, the smart one who notices ladies pretty n!
ails. I hope Jess didn't get too mean with her nails," she said with a smile. "Oh mom!" Jessica said at her mom's teasing. "Oh no, she was nice, but did show me how strong her nails were," I said covering our exploits. During the ride Jessica said, "Do you want to come over tonight and help me with my homework?" She stroked my arm with those red claws and I said, "Yes, I'd love to."
I walked over to her big house around 8 p.m. and rang the bell. She greeted me in those sexy cut-off jeans, Dr. Scholls, and tight white shirt with a deep V neck, and no bra! Her breasts were breathtaking, so large, firm, and capped with big dark nipples all easily seen through her top. "Hi Jessica, I brought my science stuff and I hope I'm a good helper," I said enthusiastically. She seemed a bit annoyed as she said, "Come on in, and don't let my baby brother pester you. I had to baby-sit him tonight." "Oh that is ok," I said, just glad to be in her presence. We started looking over chapter 6 when her 9 year old brother came down and pestered us. He was really bothering her, teasing her about her outfit, and then made the mistake of saying girls with nails are stupid. She jumped up and grabbed him while saying, "Oh yeah, stupid huh?" She was standing behind him with her hands on his shoulders and began to squeeze. "Now you are going to say you're sorry and go up to !
your room," she said while applying light pressure. He kept fighting and mouthing off when she just started to squeeze really hard. He instantly squealed and started crying, and she kept on digging her nails into him harder and harder making him dance around on his tippy-toes in pain. "Now say you're sorry," she said in a mean stern voice still gripping him tightly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorrryyyyiiieeeee," he wailed as she dug her beautiful nails into his shoulders harder still. She had a mean smile in her awesome face as she said, "Now you play in your room and don't give me any more trouble." When she let him go he RAN up the stairs still sobbing.
I was really excited watching her punish her brother with her red curved claws. "So you want to get back to studying?" I said, trying to conceal my erection. "Well I really didn't need homework help, I just needed you to basically do most of it, and I thought you might want to mess around. As you seem to enjoy my style," she said pointing to my pants. "Well ok, I'm your toy Jessica," I said, not really believing what was happening. "Do you want to see my secret new pair of high heeled sandals?" she questioned. She obviously gets excited by this stuff big time as her huge nipples were rock hard. "Yes I love too," I said getting excited and uncomfortable too. She strutted up the stairs and returned carrying a pair of strappy open-toe black sandals with 5 inch spike gold metal heels! I watched as she skillfully slipped her sexy shoes on and strapped them up. She looked so sexy as she stood up, her legs all flexed, and much taller now, even more powerful than before.
"So what do you think?" she asked as she walked around, strutting her stuff purposely bouncing her firm braless breasts and swaying her feminine hips. "I think you are truly spectacular!" I said throbbing in my pants. "Well I know you like my nails and heels, would you like to see my breasts naked?" she questioned while standing with her back arched and most of her weight shifted on one leg. "Ohhhhh yes! Yes I would love to see your beautiful breasts Jessica!" "Well there is one catch, you have to be laying at my perched feet on your back," she said with a wicked smile. "OK," I said as I laid at the feet of this perfect young goddess. She stood by my feet and removed her top, dropping it to the floor. Her breasts were so big and pretty, jutting dominantly from her toned body. She glared down at me as she flexed her legs, shifting her weight back and forth. "Jessica, you are so beautiful," I said. "Thank you, my dear door mat," she said as she walked between my legs a!
nd stepped atop my chest. I cried out as she stood all her weight atop my ribs with her deadly high spike heels on! She had now placed both feet close together on my chest, and was alternately flexing her strong tanned muscular legs while glaring down at me. "Ahhh yes, my so many boys are powerless against me," she said as she shifted her weight from her toes to her tall spikes again and again. I wailed out in pain as she continued doing this for ten minutes giggling and enjoying herself the whole time.
Then she began to walk on me, strutting back and forth while treading all over me. My poor flesh was being crushed and impaled by her, and she was a vision of femininity with every stride, every step she took. She then stood over my head, resting her right foot atop my face with her metal heel on my forehead and her sole on my mouth. "Ahhh yes I love having you to trample at my feet, and hearing all those noises you make in pain!" she cooed as she pushed her tall heel into my forehead. "Ouchhhhhh Jessica, oh you are truly torturing me............" I cried to her feeling her strong leg bare down on me. "Oh you poor baby," she said as she nearly stood atop my face drawing blood with her heel. Then she sat atop my pelvis and said, "Oh I've been so mean to you," and then buried my face with her big tanned warm breasts. She kept pressing them against me saying, " Does that help, does that help soothe the pain I loved inflicting on you." I was being suffocated by her beauti!
ful big breasts and was loving it. She just laid on my face for a good half hour, allowing my to kiss her breasts as well as her big nipples. She sat upright and began sensually but forcefully clawing my chest. I watched and felt her beautiful 1 1/2 inch curved red fingernails rake down my chest slowly again and again driving me crazy. I also watched her big breasts move about as she stroked and raked me.
Then she gripped my chest and slowly dug her nails in. I watched as her nails slowly dimpled and distorted my chest skin and flesh as she slowly dug her long nails in harder and harder. She really took her time, making my skin ache even though she was not near the drawing blood point. She was truly a catwoman, fully enjoying the sensation she gets by digging her nails into a male. I was moaning in bliss and aching pain as she continued slowly carving her talons in to me harder and deeper still. "Oh Jessica, you are so wicked, and so beautiful, to me the perfect type of woman," I said nearly ready to cum in my pants. "Oh I do love this," she moaned as she dug harder and harder, flexing her gorgeous hands and longish fingers digging her feminine claws in drawing blood. I cried in pain and bliss as I came and came in my pants. She was moaning in orgasm too, getting off completely by being a wicked catwoman. This was my first "sex" during high school! "Oh that was awesom!
e, but if you tell anyone!" she said again tightening her grip on my chest. "Ouchhhhh Jessica, I won't tell anyone," I promised. "Well it is kinda late, I should probably walk you home," she said with a mischievous smile. She got off of me and slipped her top back on. I looked at my now bloody shirt and examined the holed where her nails dug right through. Simply amazing.
Her high heels clicked loudly on the damp sidewalk as we walked. I couldn't help but stare at her big tear-drop shaped breasts bounce as she strutted atop her tall loud heels. And the way her hands swayed at her side, occasionally pushing her long hair out of her face, really showed off her long feminine claws. My gaze went down her curvy legs to her perched feet as she said, "Oh my, look, a poor big worm," and she stepped right atop him crushing him flat. "Oh dear another one, this must be my lucky night," she said as she squished him to death under her royal-highness foot steps. The poor guy stuck to her shoe so he repeatedly got crushed again and again. When we neared my house, she took the alley instead of the sidewalk. "Jessica, where are we going?" I asked. "Have you ever wondered how a girl like me defends herself? Let me show you." She said.
She instantly grabbed me and threw me against a brick wall. She then started shredding my shoulders, arms, and chest with her deadly talons. Again and again she pulled her razor sharp claws down my body tearing my clothes and skin and flesh to pieces. I was screaming to her, "Arrrrrrrr Jessica!!!! Please stop..stop.. You're killing me!!" "Oh yes, any male try to mess with me and I would kill him," she drawled out as she started swiping and slashing my chest and stomach to a bloody mess with her talons. I was crying, completely sobbing from the pain and damage she inflicted with her long curved 1 1/2 inch red fingernails. "I've spared your face from my nails," she said right as she kicks her pretty foot into my balls. I doubled over and fell to the wet pavement, moaning in pain at her perched feet. "And now I could stand atop the muggers head with my high heels and drive my spikes right through his skull, if I wanted too," she said as she ground my head to the pavement !
under her foot. "Oh Jessica, you've destroyed me," I cried to her. "Well remember this, if you tell anyone about tonight, I won't spare your face and I will shred you to death with my long feminine talons. Got that!" she yelled as she released my head from under her grinding foot. "I won't tell," I promised her. She then snapped her fingers and all the damage she inflicted on me in the alley had been healed! I only had the nail and heel marks from out orgasmic event back at her house. She answered my puzzled look by saying, "Well I want to see you tomorrow at school, I mean you are my lab partner."
-
JUST FRIENDS
JUST FRIENDS
If Brian heard it once, he heard it a hundred times: "You're a great guy, and I really like
you...just, not like that. Can't we just be really good friends?" He wondered why girls
couldn't just say "I'm not interested in fucking you" and leave it at that. Pure, unadorned
rejection. A clean kill. Brian didn't know what girl coined the cliched "let's just be
friends" line, but he imagined she must've been the cruelest castrating bitch the devil ever
spawned. Guys do not want to be "just friends" with a girl they want to fuck, but who
clearly doesn't consider them fuck material. The summer at the resort was not turning
out as he'd hoped, and eighteen year old Brian had already heard the "let's just be friends"
line not only from the daughters of the wealthy guests, but even from several of the
staffers.
It wasn't that Brian was short or overweight or geeky or homely, it was more that the
other guys at the resort looked like male models, so by comparison, Brian was not very
attractive to the girls. And these were eighteen year old girls after all, for whom a guy's
physical looks meant everything. It didn't help Brian's case that he was also very nice
and well-mannered and kind...because for eighteen year old girls, the only thing about a
guy that could mitigate less-than-amazing good-looks, would be if he was a 'bad boy'.
That was something Brian couldn't even fake. So Brian spent most of his days ogling the
nubile young women that surrounded him, and most of his nights jerking off to fantasies
about them...yet unable to quite take his mind off the knowledge that they were screwing
other guys at the very instant he was alone in his cabin with his hands wrapped around
his own dick.
One girl above the rest had caught his eye, and his fantasies about her were particularly
vivid. In fact she had not given him the "let's just be friends" line...because he had not
even bothered to approach her. Mandy was a natural beauty. Unlike most of the other
daughters of the affluent guests, it was obvious that Mandy had not had a nose job or a
boob job. She wore little or no makeup, yet her skin was perfect, and her crystal-blue
eyes made his knees weak. She had a perfect body, too, and in her thong bikini there
wasn't one bulge or misplaced dimple. Her legs were long and toned and tanned, and her
long, sandy-blonde hair was completely natural. And unlike the other daughters of the
rich, who either had short, chopped-off nails or else thick, obvious fakes, Mandy's nails
were natural. And long. Ten perfect long, straight, natural nails on exquisitely feminine
hands. Long nailbeds with clean, crisp cuticles, and if Brian looked at her nails straight
on toward her fingertips, they formed almost perfect half-circles. Like the indentations
he once saw her make in the skin of an orange, just before she used her nails to peel it.
Most of the sons and daughters of the guests knew each other from the private schools
they'd attended, or from previous summers at the resort, but Brian's family had just
moved east, and he hadn't been invited into any of the cliques. It did puzzle Brian a little
that Mandy didn't seem to be in a clique either, nor did she seem to have boys fawning
over her. The explanation he offered himself was that she considered all the great-
looking, rich guys at the resort to be below her standards. Of course that meant that he
had even less than a zero chance of attracting her, but at least he didn't have to stand by
watching those crystal-blue eyes boil with lust for some other guy, or see her with his
hand on her ass, walking off toward his room to fuck.
One morning, tired of being ignored by his contemporaries at the resort, he decided to
forego laying out by the pool, and take a blanket and a book down by the lake. If he was
going to suffer in solitude, he preferred to do it alone. After he'd read for almost an hour
and a half, the warm sunshine and the twittering of the birds and the gentle rustle of the
leaves in the trees made him sleepy, and he dozed off. He awoke slowly to the sensation
of something brushing his arm. Something warm, and very soft and smooth, that made
him tingle all over. He opened his eyes to see a bare foot stroking his arm. A beautiful,
shapely, tanned foot, with perfectly pedicured toes, shiny but unpolished, with about an
eighth of an inch of clear, white nails. Brian looked up. It was her. Mandy. She
giggled. Brian followed her crystal-blue eyes to the obvious tent in his thin swim trunks,
and he felt himself flush with embarrassment as he felt around him for his book...not that
covering himself now would be of any possible use. "Were you dreaming about some
girl, or did I do that to you?" she asked-still stroking his arm with her bare foot. Brian
started to fumble for words. "If I were you, I'd go with 'you did it to me'," Mandy said
with a smile. "Y-you d-did it to m-me," Brian stammered. "I know," Mandy said matter-
of-factly, curling her toes and softly scraping Brian's arm with her toenails. "Can I lie
next to you?" she asked. "Uh...," Brian started. "I know. You'd like me to stand here and
keep rubbing you with my foot," she said, and Brian blushed. "No...I mean, yes...I mean
sure you can lie next to me," he said. Mandy spread her towel next to Brian and lowered
her perfect body. "I'm Mandy," she said. "Yes I know," Brian blurted. "You know? Oh
my God, someone told you about me? What'd they say?" she cried. "N-no...I just read...,"
he said, pointing to her necklace, with 'Mandy' in gold script. "Oh, yeah...right," she said
with a sheepish laugh. "I'm Brian," he said. "Yes I know," Mandy said. "Really?
How?" he asked eagerly. "You just told me," she giggled. Brian looked into her crystal-
blue eyes and saw himself falling for her. But in the back of his mind he could almost
hear her utter those words that cut like a scalpel 'Let's just be friends', and he told himself
not to get his hopes up. But just then, he felt her bare foot on his thigh, and suddenly her
toes were grasping the bulge that still tented his trunks. And she leaned and said quietly
into his ear, "My daddy always told me to finish whatever I start." Brian turned his head
toward her, wondering what to say, but before he could speak, her lips were on his, and
her tongue was inside his mouth. She slipped her foot inside his trunks, and Brian came
the moment he felt her velvet-soft toes on his throbbing dick. Mandy smiled at him, and
Brian felt himself flush with embarrassment again. This was even worse than having her
reject him. At least with rejection, he could think to himself 'If only she'd have given me
a chance'...but she had given him a chance, and he blew it-literally.
But rather than pick up her belongings and leave in disgust, Mandy just slowly took her
foot out of his trunks and put it between his thighs, and continued making out with him.
She lifted her head and looked around, and seeing they were completely alone, she took
off her bikini top and rolled on top of Brian, rubbing both her feet up and down his legs
while she rubbed her nipples against his chest. Mandy took Brian's face in her hands, and
her kisses became deeper and more frenzied. He felt her pelvis grinding against his, and
realized he was again hard as a rock. As she kissed him and dry-humped him and
caressed his legs with her soft, bare feet, he felt her nails press into his neck. At first she
did it very softly, but gradually she dug them in harder. He groaned a little and shrugged
his shoulders, and Mandy rubbed her lips around the rim of his ear and tugged his earlobe
in her teeth, and said quietly into his ear, "I prolly should mention...I scratch when I get
turned on." "H-hard?" Brian asked timidly. "Sometimes," she whispered, drilling her
tongue into his ear and sinking her nails deeper into his neck, "You really turn me on,
so...yeah, pretty hard." And Mandy clutched her nails deep into Brian's shoulders, and
she kissed him wildly, and she dry-humped him faster. He grabbed her wrists and tried to
pull her nails out of him. "Don't you want to fuck me?" she asked him. "Sure I do!" he
cried. She looked disapprovingly at his hands grasping her arms, "I don't think you do."
Brian relaxed his grip on her. "I really like you," she said, and she burrowed her tongue
into his mouth. Brian groaned into their kiss as Mandy dug her long fingernails even
harder into his neck. "Mmmmmmmm," she moaned, and she clawed her nails under his
back, across his shoulder blades. Brian groaned from the fiery sting, "Oww! You scratch
really hard!" "I told you I do," Mandy giggled, then she added, "But that wasn't hard."
Brian felt like his back was on fire, and he sat up and tried to crane his neck to see what
she'd done to him. "I'm sorry," Mandy said softly, kissing one of his cheeks and stroking
the other gently with her fingernails, "I can't help it. I get carried away sometimes. Let
me make it up to you." And she gently pushed him back down on the towel, and worked
his trunks down around his knees. His dick sprang free, and Mandy grabbed it with one
hand and began jerking him slowly, then she swiveled her legs up and began slowly
caressing his arm with her bare foot. She looked at Brian with her crystal-blue eyes
gleaming, and enveloped his cockhead with her mouth. Sucking him and jerking him,
she began fondling his balls with her other hand. Brian could feel her sharp fingernails
press harder into his cock, and prick his nutsack, and he groaned and started to lift his
shoulders off the ground. Mandy put her bare foot against his chin, grasping it with her
toes and forcing his head back to the ground. He felt her release his dick from her hand,
and take him deep in her mouth, and for a few moments he enjoyed the most heavenly
blowjob he could imagine. He heard Mandy start to moan, and then he felt her
fingernails dig into his asscheeks. She buried her thumbnails into his thigh muscles.
Brian thrashed his legs, but Mandy only clawed him deeper. Suddenly she swung her
legs down and let his cock out of her mouth. She slipped her hands under him and raked
her nails over his back as she pulled herself up, then she sat up and mounted him. Brian
had never imagined that any woman could fuck like Mandy could. Her body was lithe
and supple and she rocked him and rode him, her amazingly perfect breasts bobbing up
and down as he fondled her huge, hard nipples.
Mandy leaned forward and kissed Brian with wild passion. She bit his lips and sucked
and bit his neck. Once again she slipped her hands under him and dug her long
fingernails into his back, grabbing handfuls of his flesh and tearing at him. "Your nails!"
Brian screamed. "They're really long...and sharp, aren't they?" Mandy asked lustfully,
bringing her hands in front of Brian and spreading her fingers. "Oh my God!" Brian
cried, seeing that Mandy's long, unpolished fingernails had his skin and blood underneath
them. Mandy clutched her nails into Brian's chest, and as she sat up straight, she clawed
long, deep marks all the way down to his stomach. As she continued to ride his cock, she
clawed him over and over and over. Brian screamed and tried grabbed for her hands, but
Mandy just clawed his arms, and when he reeled and screamed again , she again clawed
his chest and stomach. Brian grabbed her wrists and held them firm. She writhed and
flexed her fingers for a moment, and then she lifted herself up and off his cock. "W-what
are you doing?" Brian cried. "I thought you wanted me to fuck you," Mandy said, with
an evil look. Brian heaved a sigh of defeat, and let go of her hands. She lowered herself
back down on to his throbbing cock, and she road him harder and faster, her own moans
growing louder and more frenetic as she neared orgasm. Mandy leaned forward and
kissed him, and whispered into Brian's ear, panting breathlessly, "Oh God I'm gonna
scratch you sooooo bad." And above the sound of the two of them moaning and gasping,
as they both ascended to explosive orgasms, Brian could hear the sound of Mandy's long,
sharp fingernails tearing across his skin, yet somehow it wasn't until after he'd cum that
the burning pain hit him. "Mmmmmmm," Mandy drawled into Brian's ear as she lay
panting on top of him, gently scraping him with her blood-tinged fingernails.
Brian sat up as Mandy put her bikini back on, and he looked down in horror at what she'd
done to him. "I'm sorry," she said weakly, but then she brightened and said with a smile,
"A guy can always tell how good he was by how bad I scratch him." "Want to come back
to my room?" Mandy asked Brian with a knowing look. "Sure," he said without
hesitation, seeing in her crystal-blue eyes that she could hardly wait to tear into him again
with her long, sharp fingernails. But at least she didn't want to be 'just friends'.
-
Katherina
Katherina…by J. K. Sangfroid
"Mr. Palmer, the young lady is here interviewing for executive assistant," said a middle-
aged secretary into the intercom. "Send her in, Lucille," came a voice from the other end.
"Please go on in," Lucille said motioning the young woman toward the dark-stained
wooden double doors leading to the CEOs private office. "Dont let him intimidate you,
dear," Lucille offered helpfully. "Do not worry, I will not," the young woman said with
the faintest accent, accompanied by a sweet smile. She opened the heavy doors and
entered the opulent office, closing the doors quietly behind her. A handsome, graying
man in his late fifties sat behind a huge mahogany desk, poring over a stack of
spreadsheets. "Come in and sit down," he said brusquely without raising his head.
"Thank you. Do you wish me to sit anywhere in particular?" the young woman asked.
Hearing her faint accent the CEO asked, "Where are you from originally?" "Denmark,"
she replied softly, "But I have lived here for ten years…since I was eighteen." Palmer
looked up and removed the little half-glasses he used for reading. As she came into focus
he realized she was astoundingly beautiful. Statuesque and slender, with shimmering
long blond hair and large, sultry violet-blue eyes set above high cheekbones and
surrounding a small, upturned nose. Perfect, straight white teeth gleamed between
luscious pouty lips, moist and succulent in pink lip-gloss. Palmers eyes scanned down
her body, past her voluptuous breasts held high and firm inside her tight white blouse
with just a hint of nipple in relief; past her slim waist and curvy hips, and down her long,
shapely legs to her feet, perched in high-heeled open-toed shoes, with perfectly-shaped
French-pedicured toenails. "I am Katherina," she said offering him her hand. "Merrill
Palmer," he said jumping to his feet to take her hand, bumping his knee on his desk and
stifling a curse. "So pleased to meet you, Mr. Palmer," she said. "Please: Merrill," he
said, feeling a sudden stir of arousal from the warmth of her hand. "Alright. Merrill,"
she said with a disarming smile. He happened to glance down, and a look of
consternation crossed his face. "If I hire you, Im afraid youre going to need to remove
those," he said, nodding toward her nails, which were polished a brilliant red…and
approaching two inches long.
"Remove them?" Katherina laughed, "They are my real nails." "Well…I guess,
then…cut them?" he gulped, astonished that her ten perfect, extraordinarily-long
fingernails were not artificial. "Cut my magnificent nails?!" she exclaimed. "Theres a
lot of computer and Blackberry involved in this job," he explained. Katherina smiled, "I
have no problem to type or to text with my nails. May I show you?" "Well…er," Palmer
hesitated. "What is your number?" she asked, producing her Blackberry from her bag.
"555-9878," he replied, and watched her quickly enter the numbers using just the tips of
her two-inch-long thumbnails. "You see?" she smiled brightly. Palmer motioned her to
sit. He pulled a chair up next to her on an angle, and sat down himself. "Well, we can
talk about your nails later…if you get the job," he said. She looked into his eyes, and he
felt almost compelled to return the gaze. "People tell me," she said softly, "That looking
into my eyes is like looking into a deep, clear lake…deep and limitless." The soft, gentle
timbre of her voice gave him a tingle, like a buzzing in the back of his brain. Palmer
smiled uneasily. "Looking into my eyes makes you feel calm, and warm, doesnt it?"
she said. Palmer nodded. "You can feel yourself floating in the calm, warm water, cant
you?" she asked slowly. Again he nodded. "Let yourself go deeper. Deeper and deeper
into my eyes. Into the water. Let yourself relax in the water…the calm, deep, warm
water," she purred in her faint Danish accent, enunciating each syllable with crispness.
Katherina touched the back of his hand gently with the tips of her two-inch red nails.
"They feel so nice, dont they," she said stroking her nail tips lightly along the back of his
hand, slowly, the same repetitive stroke again and again. "My nails feel so sharp, and yet
so smooth. Smooth like the calm, deep waters of my eyes," she said, her words caressing
his mind like her nails caressed his hand. Katherina lifted her other hand and glanced
toward it with her violet-blue eyes, compelling Palmer to follow with his. "Watch my
nails, Merrill…see how lovely they are. Lovely…and long," she said, turning her slender
fingers in slow, languid arcs, "So long. So very long." All the while she continued
slowly stroking the back of his hand with her other nails. "Listen to the sound my long,
lovely nails make as they glide against one another," she said in her soft, syrupy lightly-
accented voice, sliding her two-inch thumbnail slowly up and down the side of her
equally-long ring finger nail, keeping his gaze transfixed. "Gliding, like steel upon steel.
So smooth, so sharp," she purred, hypnotically.
"Good, Merrill. Now I want you to go deeper. Deeper still," Katherina intoned, "Deep,
deep where there is only the sound of my voice. Are you there in that deepest place,
Merrill?" "Yes," he said. "Good. Very, very good," she said, "Now, Merrill, I am going
to give you some instructions, and you are going to follow them exactly. Is that clear?"
"Yes," he said. Katherina took a paper from her bag and handed it to Palmer. "On this
paper is the number of an offshore bank account. You are going to transfer all the liquid
assets of this corporation to that account." "Yes," Palmer responded. He arose robot-like
and proceeded to his computer, where without seeming to look at the monitor, did what
she had instructed. "Thats perfect, Merrill," Katherina said softly, "But before I allow
you to awaken, I am going to place some post-hypnotic suggestions deep in your
subconscious mind, where they can never be erased. I like to think of them as a little
parting gift I leave with all my male subjects. Isnt that nice of me?" "Yes. Nice,"
Palmer droned. Katherina said in her same calm, soft voice, "From this moment
forward, you will be unable to get an erection for a woman unless she has long, real nails.
Acrylics will not do. Do you understand? Answer me," she said. "Yes," he said. "Good.
In addition, you will get an erection whenever I and I alone say my long fingernails.
That erection will persist until you feel the scratch of my nails. Only my scratch will give
you release from the erection I give you with the words my long fingernails. Say that
you understand," she said. "I understand," he responded mechanically. "Perfect!" she
purred, "When I snap my fingers, you will awaken and continue with the interview.
Ready?" "Yes," he said. Katherina smiled triumphantly and snapped her fingers.
"Well, I guess if you feel you can type and text with those long nails then you can keep
them," Palmer said, continuing his last thought as if there had been no interruption in
time. "Marvelous," Katherina said, making a slow, fluid motion with her hand, posing
her red two-inch nails, "Because I would not ever cut my long fingernails." Upon
hearing her say my long fingernails…he gasped and squeezed his legs tight together to
conceal his sudden erection. Palmer began to perspire heavily, his arousal growing out of
control. "But before I take this job, I have several more interviews," she concluded.
"Please, just tell me what you want and its yours!" he cried, staring bug-eyed at her two-
inch-long brilliant red nails. "You are sweet," she said with a warm smile, "May I sleep
on it and call you?" "Of course," he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. Katherina
stood, and Palmer walked her to the door. "You were meant to be my executive
assistant," Palmer said. "Really?" she asked, loosening his tie. "Yes. I can tell," he said.
"How?" she asked. "Its the little touches," he said with a deep sigh. "Ah yes, the little
touches," she said softly, unbuttoning his shirt. She pressed her long, red nails into his
pecs and dragged slowly down, leaving a trail of four long parallel red welts. Palmer
groaned out loud, turned red and came so hard he fell to his knees panting like hed just
run a marathon. Leaving him lying breathless on the floor of his office, Katherina gently
closed the door behind her and leaned back against it beaming, and she sighed. "You
look like you just won the lottery," Lucille the middle-aged secretary said with a chuckle.
"Do I?" Katherina asked with a coy smile, thinking of the billions just deposited into her
offshore account. In the elevator on the way down, she took a long look at herself in the
mirrored walls, admiring what she saw.
"Were you successful, baby?" a mans voice called from another room as Katherina
opened the door to the luxury penthouse suite. "Of course. As always," she answered.
A tall, ruggedly-handsome man in his mid-thirties appeared carrying two glasses of
champagne. Wearing only a pair of expensive black silk pajama bottoms, he offered one
glass to Katherina, which she accepted. "To yet another increment in our burgeoning
wealth," he said, and they each took a sip and then set their glasses down on an end-table,
their eyes locked in a steamy gaze. Katherina slipped her hands around the mans waist
and caressed his back with her red two-inch nails, and their open mouths came together.
Growling, biting and scratching like a wild tigress, Katherina took him down on a large
round bed draped in red satin sheets. Her passion skyrocketed while he fucked her fast
and hard, until the two of them screamed in unison and fell beside one another, breathless
and sweaty. Katherina got up and slipped into a long black silk robe. She walked to the
living room to get her bag. As she bent down by the black leather couch, something
caught her eye. She reached for it, and plucked a single long hair, holding it with her
impossibly-long nails. It was a black hair, which she held to her blond tresses, biting her
lip and breathing through flared nostrils.
Katherina returned to the bedroom and set her bag next to the bed. She let her black silk
robe fall effortlessly off her porcelain-white shoulders and slowly eased her incredibly
sexy body onto the red satin sheets. "Are you faithful to me, Mark?" she asked him.
"Am I faithful to you?" he repeated with shock. Katherina turned to him. She looked
into his eyes but said nothing. She knew that when a man answers a question with a
question, a lie is sure to follow. "Of course baby!" he exclaimed. "I am a magnificent
fuck, arent I," she said, playing her long nails slowly around one of his nipples. "Yes
you are," he smiled. She said softly, "I can touch your skin with just the tips of my
lovely long nails, and reach into your soul. I can caress your heart with the sound of my
voice. My voice and my nails. So soft, so calm, so…" Mark took her wrist and laughed,
"Katherina, what do you think youre doing? Did you forget that it was I who taught you
hypnosis?" She swiped her sharp red nails harshly across his smooth, muscular chest,
leaving four bleeding lines. "Fuck you, Mark!" she hissed like a serpent. "Gladly my
love," he said passionately kissing her sweaty breasts. Katherina wrapped her long,
shapely legs around his waist and clawed his back raw with her two-inch red fingernails
while he penetrated her and pumped furiously.
When they finished, Mark groped around his nightstand, grumbled and started to get up.
Katherina put her arms around his waist and held him. "Dont go, baby," she pleaded
softly. "I need my cigarettes," he grumbled. "Have one of mine," she said, reaching into
her bag and retrieving a gold cigarette case and matching lighter. She plucked a
cigarette with her incredibly-long red nails and gave it to him, then took one for herself.
Mark took the lighter and lit her cigarette and then his. They both took long drags and
lay back against the satin pillowcases. They remained silent for a time, then Katherina
laid her head against him and lightly traced her long fingernails in lazy circles around his
hard pecs. "It pleases me to caress you with my nails," she said softly, "Because I know
that it pleases you." She slowly stroked her foot up and down his leg. "Like it pleases
you when I caress you with my soft, warm, silky feet. Sometimes I caress you with my
sole. Sometimes only with my gentle toes." "Katherina, you know you cant put me
under hypnosis," Mark said. Ignoring him she said softly, "Sometimes I caress you with
the tips of my toenails," lightly scratching her perfect French-pedicured tips against his
shin. "You love the way I caress you, dont you?" she purred slowly, "With my soft
fingers and toes. With my sharp finger and toe nails. Up…and down. Up…and down.
Sharp, contrasted with soft. Like the tones of my voice. My warm, soothing voice."
"Stop it, Katherina," Mark said, a buzz tingling in the back of his brain. "My nails, and
my voice. Drawing you down. Drawing you down. Deeper and deeper," she intoned
slowly. Marks eyelids began to feel heavy. "H-how did…?" he moaned, feeling himself
succumbing. "A mixture of exotic herbs in the cigarette I gave you has removed your
ability to resist being hypnotized. I have learned a few things that you did not teach me,
my love," she said softly, making feather-light strokes of her long fingernails around and
around his muscular chest. "And now, you will surrender all control to me, Mark, do you
understand? Answer me," she said. "Yes, I understand" he said, his eyes now fully
closed.
"In your profound hypnotic state you are unable to lie. So again I ask you: Are you
faithful to me?" Katherina asked. "No," Mark answered. Katherina seethed with rage,
but she remained collected so as not to upset the trance in which she held her husband.
"What is her name, and where does she live?" Katherina asked softly. "N-no!
I…wont," Mark groaned. "My will is stronger," she said, "you will tell me. Tell me the
name and address of the woman who dares to think that I will share you with her."
"I…I…," Mark stammered. "Her name. And her address," Katherina repeated slowly.
Mark sighed and blurted, "Jennifer. Her name is Jennifer. She lives in this building,
three floors below us. Apartment 53-C." "Thank you, Mark. That wasnt so difficult,
now was it?" she said. "No," her husband answered blankly. "Good," Katherina said,
"Now then, when I snap my fingers you will awaken. You will not recall having been in
a trance. However, from now and for the rest of your life you will not be able to get an
erection for anyone but me. Say it, so I know you understand." "No one but you," Mark
said catatonically. "I am also going to give you a control phrase, Mark, in case I shall
need to hypnotize you again. The phrase is our wedding vows. When you hear me
utter that phrase, you will go into a deep state of hypnosis and be completely open to my
suggestion." Mark nodded slowly, "Yes." Katherina gave her husband a gentle kiss, and
she snapped her fingers.
"So dont waste your time trying to hypnotize me, Katherina. Youll just have to trust me
that I wont cheat on you," Mark said as if no time had elapsed. " Oh, I am certain you
will not ever cheat on me, Mark," she smiled, stroking his face with the tips of her
extraordinarily-long red-polished fingernails. She turned on her side facing away from
him. "Good night baby," Mark said yawning, and he turned his back to her and closed
his eyes. "Good night," she said, but her violet-blue eyes remained open, hauntingly
beautiful yet chillingly evil. Katherina tried to stem the tide of thoughts that churned
inside her head. Horrible thoughts, vengeful thoughts of rage and hate. The digits on her
nightstand clock flipped again and again. 1AM…1:30AM…2AM… Finally she got up
and put her black silk robe on and tied the sash around her tiny waist. She picked up her
cigarette case and lighter and her bag and padded quietly on her soft bare feet, out to the
living room. There she sat on the black leather couch, twirling between her thumb and
fingers the long black hair shed found earlier, burning with anger and hurt by the affair
her husband had revealed under hypnosis. Katherina slowly turned her hands, watching
her shiny red two-inch nails catch the reflection of the moonlight streaming through the
penthouse skylight. Little by little her self-confidence returned, her feeling of power and
control, and she was taken by a sudden and intense hunger for sexual conquest to avenge
her betrayal. Katherina lit a cigarette and took out her Blackberry. She recalled the
number of Merrill Palmer, that shed input in his office to demonstrate how well she
could text with her unbelievably-long nails, and she pushed CALL with the tip of one.
"Hello?" Palmers voice answered. "Merrill?" she said. "Who is this?" he asked, seeing
that her name wasnt displayed on his caller-ID, "Its 2:30AM." "You werent sleeping,"
she said. "No, I…but, how did you know that? And who is this?" he asked somewhat
incensed. Katherina whispered, "I called to reassure you that you are not impotent."
Palmer spluttered unintelligibly. Katherina said, "You were unable to perform for your
wife last night, werent you Merrill. I bet you left in the middle of the night, telling her
you had to go in to the office, but instead you rushed to the apartment where you keep
your mistress…where again you were unable to perform." "WHO ARE YOU?" Palmer
shouted. "This is Katherina. I am hurt you did not remember my soft, soothing voice,"
she responded sweetly, "But, perhaps you remember…my long fingernails." She could
hear him gasp through the phone when he suddenly grew hard, and she laughed softly,
"There. You see? I told you that you are not impotent." "Im hanging up now Katherina.
Dont ever call me again!" he shouted. Katherina laughed, "I am certain that it is you
who will be calling me, Merrill. Remember those ads on TV, Merrill? Always seek
treatment for an erection lasting longer than four hours. " Katherina pushed END with
the tip of a two-inch nail and lay down on the couch smiling to herself. She sighed and
quickly drifted off to sleep. Awakened by the sound of her Blackberry vibrating against
the glass-top coffee table, Katherina smiled when she saw it was Palmer calling at
6:30AM. "Whats happening to me? Should I go to the ER?" he cried. Katherina smiled,
"Perhaps. But only if you would enjoy having a needle stabbed into your cock without
result. Only I can help you, Merrill. Meet me in front of your office in fifteen minutes,"
and she ended the call before he had a chance to speak.
Merrill Palmers limousine was already idling in front of his corporate headquarters when
Katherina pulled up in a taxi. The limos rear door opened and Palmer began to step out,
but she motioned him back with a wave of her red-polished two-inch nails and climbed
in. "That looks painful. Is it?" she asked, pointing a long, red nail at the enormous tent
in his expensive suit pants. "You said you can help me," he pleaded. Katherina sat back
against the opposite door, eyeing him seductively. "Take your pants off," she
commanded. Palmer quickly complied. Gently she grasped his erection between her
fingers and began to stroke him. Palmer winced. She noted how raw his dick was and
laughed, "Someones been masturbating to excess, trying in vain to make himself cum."
"That hurts!" Palmer whined. "It does not hurt me," she said, unsympathetic to his
discomfort and continuing to stroke him. Palmer grabbed and held her wrist. "Stop!" he
cried. Katherina shrugged her shoulders and reached for the door handle. "Wait! Dont
go!" he pleaded. "Make up your mind," she said. Palmer sighed with resignation.
Katherina smiled, and took his erection in her soft hand and again began stroking.
Palmer drew deep breaths to fight the burning. "Youre killing me!" he cried through
clenched teeth. "Most men would kill to have me do what Im doing to you," Katherina
sneered. "Id like it, too…if my cock wasnt like raw meat. But its not helping," he
complained. "Oh, very well," she sniffed. She cast him a pitying look and took his cock
completely inside her mouth and withdrew slowly. She blew softly on it, and he sighed
from the cooling feeling. She looked up at him and smiled, and he smiled back
hesitantly. Brushing back her long blond hair, Katherina engulfed his cock again, and
Palmer moaned with pleasure, but this time when she withdrew she scraped her teeth
against his shaft and he screamed. Katherina saw tears running from his eyes and she
laughed sadistically. "I guess Im just going to have to fuck you, arent I?" Katherina
sighed, and raised her short dress exposing her wet pussy. Slowly she lowered herself on
his cock and began riding him up and down slowly. She soon had him on what felt like
the verge of cumming, and Palmer smiled broadly. "Thank you," he sighed. "It is not
time to thank me yet," she said in her faint Danish accent, with the wickedest look in her
seductive violet-blue eyes.
After an hour they both lost count of how many orgasms Katherina had experienced, but
it was becoming clear to Merrill Palmer that he could not cum. Not only wasnt he
trying to last, he had been letting himself go, hoping and praying to cum. "I dont think
this is helping me," he said with trepidation. "It is certainly helping me," Katherina
sighed, having yet another orgasm. "I need to cum!" he whined. "You shall," she said.
"When?" he cried. "When I decide so," she said, piling her luxuriant blond hair on top of
her head while she twisted and churned herself on his rock-solid cock. After another half
hour and several more orgasms, Katherina sighed and said, "Im done," as she
dismounted him. "No! I still didnt cum!" Palmer screamed, gesturing at his purple,
swollen cock. "I dont know you well enough yet to let you cum inside me," she said
smoothing her short dress down. "You said youd help me!" he cried. Katherina got
behind him and slid her arms around him in front. "And so I shall," she whispered in her
light accent. Katherina clawed his chest slowly and deeply with her red two-inch nails.
Palmer reeled and cried out from the searing pain but he erupted like a volcano,
splattering his jizz across the limo against the window, and then he collapsed forward on
the seat gasping for breath. Katherina exited the limo and hailed a passing taxi. Several
police cars suddenly surrounded Palmers limo. As Palmer emerged disheveled and
unsteady, two detectives in suits pulled his arms behind his back and handcuffed him.
One of the detectives said, "Merrill Palmer? Youre under arrest for embezzlement and
grand theft. You have the right to remain silent…" Palmer and Katherina exchanged
momentary glances, his shocked and incredulous, hers wickedly sultry. As she rode
away in the taxi, Katherina spread her hands before her and slowly retracted her two-inch
red talons, and she licked her glossy pink lips with evil satisfaction.
Back at her apartment building, Katherina got in the elevator and pushed the button
marked penthouse with her knuckle. But as she passed the 50th floor she felt a sudden
rush of anger and she pressed her knuckle against 53 lighting it up. The elevator stopped
and the doors opened, and Katherina walked slowly like a stalking panther, to 53C, and
knocked. After a short pause the door opened against the chain lock and a young
womans face peered through the gap. Framed by long black hair, the womans eyes
were swollen and red from crying. "Are you Jennifer?" Katherina asked softly in her
slight accent. "Do I know you?" Jennifer asked. "No but you know my husband, Mark,"
Katherina replied. Jennifers face grew ashen. "Dont worry, Im not here to harm you.
I just would like to talk. May I please come inside?" Katherina asked unthreateningly.
"Ok," Jennifer said almost in a whisper, and closed the door momentarily while she undid
the chain. She turned to Katherina wiping away tears that streamed from her dark eyes
and blurted, "Dont worry, its over."
"He told you so?" Katherina asked. Jennifer shook her head, "But it was obvious," she
choked, "He came here this morning, like he does every day as soon as…" she looked
down, away from Katherina. "As soon as I leave him alone?" Katherina finished
Jennifers sentence. Jennifer looked down, embarrassed. "We tried to…I mean…but he
couldnt…you know…not at all. No matter what I did," she sobbed, "Its obvious he
doesnt want me anymore." Jennifer dried her eyes and took a deep breath. She eyed
Katherina from head to toe and her jaw dropped and she exclaimed, "Oh my God, youre
so beautiful. I dont know how Mark could even look at another woman." Katherina
smiled modestly and made a gesture of dismissal with her hand. Jennifers eyes grew
wide. "Oh my God, are those your own nails?" she gasped. "Yes," Katherina replied
with a flourish of all ten red two-inch nails. "Im really glad you didnt come here to
fight," Jennifer said with a nervous laugh, still staring at Katherinas nails. Katherina
smiled ominously, "I would never risk my magnificent nails just to hurt someone."
"Would you like a cup of coffee?" Jennifer asked. "If it isnt too much trouble,"
Katherina replied. "Its already made," Jennifer said as she took two mugs from the
cupboard. "We could sit out on the balcony," Jennifer suggested, and then she laughed
nervously, "As long as you promise not to throw me off." Katherina laughed. They
walked through the living room and Jennifer opened the sliding glass door onto the
balcony. There was a little 2-person settee and a small round table, and the two women
sat halfway facing one another and sipped their coffee. "Ive always tried to grow my
nails," Jennifer lamented, looking at her hands, "But they dont ever get much longer
than this without breaking." Katherina looked at Jennifers nails, which were about a
quarter of an inch past her fingertips and not polished. "Theyre actually quite long by
todays fashion standards," Katherina remarked, and then looking at her own two-inch
nails added, "Mine get lots of odd stares and whispers. But they are quite useful. For
example, if I need to stir my coffee. You see?" Katherina dipped her two-inch pinkie
nail into her coffee and gently stirred. Jennifer laughed a little. "Watch, as I stir,"
Katherina said softly, "Watch my long nail as it goes round and round. Watch as my nail
makes spirals in the light reflecting off the dark, warm coffee. It is so relaxing to watch,
isnt it? Round and round. Spiraling. You feel yourself becoming more and more
relaxed, as you watch my long nail stirring. Stirring the liquid. Stirring the light. You
feel so calm, so relaxed, watching me stir with my long nail…dont you?" "Yes,"
Jennifer said blankly as she stared transfixed into the coffee, watching Katherinas long,
red fingernail stirring slowly. Katherina intoned slowly, "I want you to concentrate on
the sound of my voice, Jennifer. My soft, soothing voice. Follow the sound of my voice
as it takes you deeper. Deeper and deeper. Open your mind only to the sound of my
voice. Open your mind to my suggestion, to my control. Let your body be my vehicle. I
am in control." "You are in control," Jennifer said trance-like. "Good," Katherina said,
taking her Blackberry from her bag. "Hey baby! Whats up?" Mark said on the other
end. "Hello, Mark," Katherina said, "I had a thought. Wouldnt it be nice if we were to
renew…our wedding vows?"
There was silence on the line, and Katherina smiled with satisfaction knowing that the
control phrase had instantly put her husband back into a deep hypnotic state. "Mark? I
want you to come downstairs. To Jennifers apartment. Knock three times on the door.
Do you understand?" she asked. "Yes," Mark said. In a few moments there were three
evenly-spaced knocks at the front door. "Go answer the door, Jennifer. It is Mark. He is
here to see you," Katherina said. Jennifer got up slowly and walked to the foyer. She
opened the door and she and Mark stood there facing one another with blank looks,
saying nothing. "Come in, both of you," Katherina said from a short distance. Mark and
Jennifer walked robot-like through the living room. "Stop," Katherina commanded, and
they both froze in place. "Sit on the couch," she said, and they did. Katherina said,
"When I snap my fingers, Jennifer, you will scratch Mark viciously with your fingernails,
as though you are fighting for your life. And Mark, you will hit Jennifer, again and
again." She snapped her fingers, and instantly Jennifer raked her quarter-inch nails
across Marks face and down his arms, flailing at him, gouging wildly, leaving deep,
bleeding scratch marks wherever her nails made contact. Mark responded by punching
Jennifer in the face repeatedly. "Stop," Katherina said, and her husband and his mistress
froze. "Look," Katherina said pointing her long, red nail toward the open balcony,
"There is the beach. Jennifer loves the beach. She loves to swim in the warm ocean.
Mark? Why dont you carry Jennifer to the surf?" Mark scooped Jennifer up in his arms
and carried her lovingly to the balcony. "Go ahead, Mark, lower her into the ocean,"
Katherina said brightly. Mark lifted Jennifer over the balcony rail and let go. Katherina
beamed. "Now, Mark, when I snap my fingers you will become very, very tired, and you
will lie down on the couch and sleep deeply. When you hear a mans voice say the word
police you will awaken and open the door. Do you understand?" Katherina said to him.
"I understand," he replied catatonically. Katherina snapped her fingers crisply, and Mark
immediately lay down on the couch, fast asleep. Katherina washed and dried her coffee
mug scrupulously and put it back in the cupboard, being careful to hold the mug and
touch the cupboard handle with just her very long nails. She used the sleeve of her
blouse to open the front door and, making sure no one was in the hall, to close it behind
her, then she pushed the elevator call button with her knuckle and rode upstairs to her
apartment. It wasnt long before there was a knock on her door, and she answered it in
her bathrobe, pretending to have just awakened. "You must be mistaken! My husband is
at work. He would never cheat on me! And he could never murder anyone!" Katherina
cried hysterically when the police detectives told her. "Im sorry maam," the detective
said, "But hes got scratches all over him, and shewell, whats left of her, looks like
she was beat up before she took the dive. DNA will prove it, but its pretty clear what
happened. Can I call someone to come stay with you?" the detective offered. "No, I
would like to go with my husband. He needs me!" Katherina cried. "Im sorry maam,
but that isnt possible," the detective said compassionately. Katherina fell to her knees
sobbing real tears, playing her part to perfection.
Later that day, clad in a simple black dress, her blond hair cascading over her porcelain-
white shoulders, Katherina sat in the front row in the courtroom dabbing her tears while
her husband Mark was arraigned. In an orange short-sleeved jail jumpsuit and chained
hand and foot, his arms and face scored with dozens of fresh, deep scratches from
Jennifers nails, Mark broke down and cried when he heard the charge of first-degree
murder. His court-appointed public defender asked for bail, but the judge denied it.
Later, separated from her husband by the thick plexiglass divider at the jail, Katherina sat
staring at her long, red fingernails and tapping them idly on the formica counter. Mark
picked up the telephone receiver and motioned for Katherina to do likewise. "I know
what you did," he snarled, "I dont know how you hypnotized me, but I know you did."
"Hypnotized you? Me? What are you talking about? My God, Mark, whats happened to
you?" she cried tearfully. Mark sighed, realizing she suspected hed arranged to have
their conversation recorded by the police. "Look, at least get me a decent lawyer. With
that idiot public defender the needle is as good as in my arm," he pleaded. "Good
lawyers cost big money, darling. And I no longer have the financial support of my loving
husband to sustain my lifestyle," she said with sympathy in her voice, but she winked.
Marks face drained of all color, realizing shed shifted all their billions into another
untraceable offshore account. "Be optimistic, Mark. Maybe you will only get life in
prison," she said cheerfully, "Perhaps you will be permitted conjugal visits. That is, if
your prison boyfriend does not object." "You bitch! You fucking bitch!" he screamed.
"I know how much youre going to miss the feel of these," she breathed into the phone,
pressing her palm against the plexiglass and scratching her two-inch nails against it
slowly. Marks screaming curses brought the guards who quickly subdued him with their
nightsticks, while Katherina stood and walked away.
"Thank you for coming. I hope I wasnt out of line, having my attorney call and ask you
to come," Merrill Palmer said from behind the same sort of plexiglass divider at the
federal detention center across town. "I really needed to see you." "I cant stay more than
a moment," she said quietly. Palmer said solemnly, "Theyre saying I transferred billions
out of the corporation into some untraceable offshore account. Funny thing, the money
seems to have disappeared at the same time you were in my office for the job interview."
"And…you think I had something to do with it?" Katherina asked suspiciously. "Well,
no, but I…" Palmer started. "Thats why you wanted to see me?" she asked angrily.
"Katherina, no…I just…," Palmer faltered. "And here I thought it was because you wanted
one last look at…my long fingernails." Palmer gasped, and Katherina laughed at the
tortured expression on his face as he stared down at the sudden erection tenting his prison
jumpsuit. "Have a nice life, Merrill," she said in her faint accent, clicking her incredible
nails on the phone as she replaced it on the hook, then she got up gracefully and left.
"An apple martini, please," Katherina said to the bartender. "A woman as beautiful as
you should not drink alone anywhere, let alone in Dubai," a mans resonant Italian-
accented voice said from behind her. She crossed her long, bare legs and flexed her
French-pedicured toes, and she smiled at him. "Now that you are here, I shall not drink
alone," she said flashing a dazzling smile with her glossy pink lips, patting the next stool
with her hand. The tall, graying man in an elegant tuxedo sat down next to her and said,
"Permit me to introduce myself. I am Count Giancarlo Renaldi." "Katherina," she said
offering her hand, which he took and kissed. "You have most incredible hands
signorina," he said, wide-eyed at Katherinas two-inch long red polished fingernails.
"Thank you, Giancarlo," she said. "My friends call me Gianni," he said with a disarming
smile. "Gianni?" she repeated as a question. "Yes?" he asked. "What does your wife
call you?" she asked. Count Renaldi blushed. "I am not interested in being someones
mistress," she said. "That is such a pity," he said flashing his handsome smile, "Because
along with your incredible hands, you have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen."
Katherina reached up and began stroking his neck softly with the tips of her two-inch
fingernails and he felt a tingle in his head, like a buzzing in the back of his mind. In her
light Danish accent Katherina said soothingly, "People tell me that looking into my eyes
is like looking into a deep, clear lake…deep and limitless."
-
KELLY’S HEROINES
KELLYS HEROINES
Handsome, wealthy, 30-something bachelor Paul DuMont always wanted to run a
summer camp. After his fathers untimely death, Paul inherited many millions. In his
late 20s at the time, and with a Harvard MBA, he followed his childhood dream and
bought a pair of summer camps in the Hamptons. Camp Tikimogwa, the boys camp,
along with the nearby girls camp, Camp Wamaweelee, catered to the children of wealthy
New York socialites like himself.
Kelly Andrews was eighteen, and had just graduated from high-school. She was raised
by a single mother who had ingrained in Kelly from the time she was a toddler, the need
to be hard-working, clever, and ruthlessly ambitious. Kelly was all of those, as well as
extremely attractive, and had been accepted to Vassar for the fall semester on an
academic scholarship. She needed money for living expenses though. Her mothers
employer knew Paul DuMont socially, and she facilitated Kelly meeting with Pauls
assistant and getting a summer job as a counselor for the 10-12 year-old girls at Camp
Wamaweelee.
Kelly was awakened suddenly around 1AM by the sound of high-pitched screams, and
she quickly pulled on her sweats and stepped into her sneakers and ran outside her cabin.
The screams were coming from the junior girls cabin, and Kelly could hear cackles of
laughter of a lower pitch, and she saw figures running from the cabin, scurrying off into
the surrounding woods. By the time Kelly got to the cabin, there was mass hysteria. The
dozen girls, aged 10-12, were screaming and crying. A few of them huddled together on
the floor, sobbing. Others sat in their beds with the covers pulled up to their necks, their
eyes red and teary.
"What happened?" Kelly shouted. The girls started to all talk at once, half-yelling, half-
crying, and it took Kelly several minutes to sort it out. It seems that a group of similar-
age boys from the neighboring boys camp, Camp Tikimogwa, had descended upon the
girls camp for a midnight panty raid, bursting into the cabin and absconding with girls
undergarments as trophies of their mission. The sudden intrusion utterly terrorized the
girls, which the boys found extremely funny. The girls didnt find it funny at all, and
neither did Counselor Kelly. It took her almost two hours to calm her young charges
down, and she had to sleep on the floor in their cabin because they were too terrified to
go back to sleep unguarded.
The next morning, more than half the girls came to Kelly and told her they wanted to call
their parents and have them come pick them up. Kelly understood that would mean the
end of her summer employment, not to mention she would definitely not get another
camp counseling job that summer and she really needed the money for college in the fall.
Somehow she had to do something to keep the girls from bailing, but she didnt know
what. As she ate her breakfast she racked her brain for an idea. Absent-mindedly she
drummed her fingers on the formica table, and she heard the clicking sound and glanced
at her ten 1/2-inch-long, real, unpolished fingernails. She recalled how she had used
them often while she was growing up, to defend herself against five brothers and
countless boys in school and around her neighborhood. And thats when the idea hit her.
Kelly gathered the two dozen campers together and gave the pep-talk of her life. "Girls
of Camp Wamaweelee," she said, "Last night you were attacked by a group of un-
evolved males. They humiliated you. They abused you. They consider you weak and
helpless and powerless. If you run home to your mommies and daddies, well, then youll
have proved they were right, and theyll go on to abuse their girlfriends, wives and
daughters. Is that what you want?" The girls looked at each other for cues, unsure of
what to say or do. Finally, one of them said, "N-no, Counselor Kelly, b-but what can we
do? They are stronger than us." "They have bigger muscles," Kelly said, "But muscles
are no match for these." Kelly spread her fingers out and brandished her 1/2-inch
fingernails. She then took a small watermelon from a brown paper bag next to her chair.
"Pretend this is one of those horrible boys who raided your cabin last night," Kelly said,
and she proceeded to dig and scrape and gouge the melon with her long fingernails. Her
nails penetrated the melons skin and left deep claw marks. The girls looked with wide
eyes at the damage Kellys long fingernails did to the melon, and they all took turns
taking Kellys hands in theirs, inspecting her nails and running their fingers over the
knifelike edges. Whispers of "Oooooooo, theyre soooooooo long and beautiful!" mixed
with gasps of "Theyre, like, scary sharp!"
"Sure, you can do that with your nails," one of the girls said, looking at her own short
nails, "But what about us?" The rest of the girls all looked at their nails and nodded. The
longest nail among them was maybe barely past the tip of a finger. "Thats not a
problem," Kelly said, "Its only the first week of camp. There are eleven more weeks.
By the last week of camp you can all have nails long enough to be serious weapons.
Your nails dont need to be as long as mine, because my hands are bigger and my
nailbeds are much longer than yours. You dont want your nails to bend back or break
when you use them." "Yeah," one of the girls said, "My nails always break whenever
they get a little long." "Thats not a problem, either," Kelly said, "My grandmother was a
manicurist back in the days before acrylic and fake nails. She told me about this stuff
they used to put on horses hooves, that she used to use on her nails. I use it and my nails
are incredibly strong and never break. And there just happens to be a horse-supply store
in town that stocks it. Grandma also told me about this stuff called Knox Gelatin, that
you mix with juice and drink every day, and it makes your nails grow really fast and
strong." By this time, Kelly could see that she was winning the girls over, so she went
for the gold. "But for this to work, you girls have to have the willpower to train hard, the
dedication to become a fighting team, and the guts to not be squeamish about using your
nails to scratch someone really, really hard. Are you in?" A half-hearted smattering of
yesses came from the two dozen young girls. "I cant hear you!" Kelly shouted, "I said,
Are you IN?" "Yeah!!" they shouted. "Are you with me?" Kelly cried. "Yeah!!" they
screamed. "Okay then!" Kelly shouted with glee, "We now begin Operation
Scratchemup. From this moment on, nobody cuts, files or bites a nail. That includes
toenails."
"Eeewww," one girl said, "long toenails are gross!" Kelly said, "Im not talking about
super long, just a little long. Your toenails wont grow nearly as fast as your fingernails
anyway. But twenty nails are more effective than ten. Many times my brothers had me
pinned so I couldnt use my hands, and my toenails saved me." Kelly slipped out of her
sneakers, revealing perfectly pedicured and clear-polished 1/8-inch toenails, which she
proceeded to scrape across the melon and gouge out pieces of its skin. Quiet cries of
"Cool!" rose up from the ranks of the camper girls. That night before lights-out, Kelly
came to the girls cabin and painted the horse-hoof-hardener on two dozen sets of
fingernails and toenails. "Tomorrow Ill go into town and pick up more hardener, and a
supply of Knox gelatin," she said. Then Kelly went on, "For the next two weeks I will
give you verbal instructions on fighting, and you will begin working out to develop your
muscles and flexibility. By then, all of you should have long enough nails to begin
actually learning how to use them." "Cool!" the girls all said. "Wait," said one of the
older girls, "Why not just get fake nails?" "Thats a really good question, Heather!"
Kelly answered, "There are two reasons. 1. Fake nails, even acrylics, would rip off of
your own nails painfully if you scratched as hard as you all will be doing. 2. Boys arent
nearly as scared by fake nails because they know they arent as sharp as real ones."
Another girl chimed in, "What if the fake nails are pointy?" "Brittney, thats another
excellent question! And again, there are two reasons why not," Kelly said, "1. Pointy
nails, real or fake, could cause such severe cuts the boys would need stitches and
probably would have permanent scars. As nice as that sounds, you guys could get in a lot
of real trouble. 2. Were not going to attack the boys camp, were going to wait for them
to make another panty raid as they always do at the end of the summer, and then
whatever you do to them will be in self-defense. But if you all got pointy fake nails
ahead of time, it would be obvious to the grownups that you planned it in advance."
Kelly smiled and winked and concluded, "They cant convict you just because you all
happened not to cut your nails during the summer." The girls all nodded and remarked
what a smart and devious mentor Kelly was. "And all of you must absolutely swear an
oath of secrecy. Nobody outside of this cabin must know the real reason why youre
growing out your nails. If anyone asks, you all have a bet as to whose nails grows fastest.
Understand? Swear?" All the girls nodded and put their hands over their hearts and
swore.
The next two weeks flew by. Every morning at breakfast the girls dutifully stirred a
packet of gelatin into their orange juice, and every night Kelly would help them apply
the hardener to their fingernails and toenails. Kelly had a natural knack for motivational
psychology, and she would examine the daily growth and gush, "Awesome!" and tell
them each how well their nails were growing. And before bedtime, Kelly would give
them lectures about the art of using nails as weapons. She would demonstrate scratching
techniques using her own nails on fruit and vegetables which she gave boys names. She
painted eyes, ears, nose, and mouth on a watermelon she called Billys head and
showed the girls exactly how to position their fingers and where to scratch that would
cause the most pain. A giant cucumber was Bobbys arm, which Kelly demonstrated
how the underside of someones arm has thinner skin and more nerve endings than the
outer side, and so how to grab it just right so all four fingernails and the thumbnail would
scratch the underside of someones arm. "Theyll be wearing shorts," Kelly told the
girls, and an eggplant became "Daves thigh" for a lesson on deep-digging of long
fingernails. The girls would stare wide-eyed, biting their lower lips as they watched
Kelly destroy the facsimile boys with her nails. Sometimes they would squeal with
delight as the ravaged fruit or vegetable was passed around for them to inspect the
damage that Kellys long nails had caused.
Kelly also used those first two weeks to have all the girls do sit-ups, push-ups, and chin-
ups every day. The girls camp didnt have weights, so Kelly gathered up large rocks,
and filled potato sacks with dirt, and made the girls lift them with their arms and legs.
She also had them running a mile or more every day to build up their endurance and
breathing, and she made them do high leg kicks and knee-lifts in preparation for the
groins of the enemy. One thing was certain, no matter the sinister motivation, those
girls were going to be in superb physical condition by camps end. Kelly also sewed a
boy-sized attack-dummy out of scraps of canvas tarp stuffed with straw, and presented
Davey the Dummy to her girls at the end of the second week, to their applause and
squeals of laughter.
"Its time for some hands-on training," Kelly announced, "And, um, feet-on training too."
The girls laughed. Kelly went on, "First, lets have you all line up for inspection,
barefoot and with your hands out in front of you." The girls complied like good little
soldiers, and Kelly went down the line. "Awesome!" "Cool!" "Fantastic!" Kelly was
truly amazed and pleased to see so much progress in such a short time. Even the girls
who had been nail-biters had around 1/16-inch, on up to the few that happened to have
had a little growth past their fingertips when Operation Scratchemup began, who now had
about 1/8-inch. Kelly flexed each of their nails against her own, and she was pleased that
the girls nails were thick and strong and slightly flexible, not thin and brittle. Silently
Kelly gave thanks to her grandmother for teaching her about the gelatin and horse-hoof-
hardener. Toenails were growing too, although as was to be expected, not as fast as
fingernails. In fact, between the gelatin and the fact it was summer and the girls were all
young and healthy, their nails grew so fast that long before the last week of camp, Kelly
could see that unless they were filed, their nails would be too long for optimum use as
scratching weapons. Many of the girls were so hyped-up by the sight of their long nails
that they balked at not letting them keep growing longer and longer. Kelly explained that
when the white ends of their fingernails were as long as the pink part, they were at the
maximum length for serious scratching, and any longer than that and it would hurt if they
used all their strength to scratch with. The camper girls understood and reluctantly
sumbitted to keeping their fingernails so the white part was not longer than the pink,
which on their small hands still looked really long, and the sight of them would no doubt
shock the unexpecting camper boys into wetting their pants. None of the girls had ever
shaped long nails before, so Kelly did it for them every few days. They would come and
sit on the floor in a circle by one of the bunks while Kelly sat on the bed, calling the girls
one at a time to sit next to her while she lovingly admired their ten, newly-long nails,
feeling their sharpness and shaping them like her own nails, which were basically
straight-edged, with just the sharp corners very slightly rounded-off.
Kelly was very thorough in her training. She taught her girls several kinds of scratching.
There was raking, in which the fingers were curved and the nails quickly swiped down
or across the victims skin. There was digging, in which the fingers were also curved,
and as the nails were dug into the victim, the fingers were flexed so as to dig them deeper
and deeper. Then there was the dig and drag, which started out as digging but then the
nails were dragged along with strong pressure. Kelly taught them that their thumbnails
were fearsome weapons because their thumbs were their strongest fingers. They could
be used to gouge deeply and, to cause excruciating pain, combined with their middle
finger which was their second-strongest, to pinch. Kelly also gave her charges a
roadmap of the most sensitive areas, and the ones with the thinnest and most easily-
broken skin. The cheeks, over the cheekbones just under the eyes, was one area she said.
The bridge of the nose, the upper lip, and the throat were others. Ears were especially
good targets for a fast rake of sharp fingernails, she told them. The undersides of arms
and wrists were perfect spots for the dig and drag scratch, and the backs of the hands
were good for all types of scratching. The thighs, she said, were great places for deep,
hard pinching. Kelly said that because the boys will be wearing camp shorts, that their
bare legs were vulnerable to slashing by toenails. "What happens if a guy holds my arms
so I cant get my nails on him?" asked one of the younger, smaller girls. "Well, Amber,"
Kelly said, "Remember, if hes got both your hands, hes also using both his hands, and
boys are programed not to kick because that would be fighting like a girl and hed be
teased and laughed-at and called a sissy and become a total outcast. The only thing thatd
be considered more pathetic and effeminate than a boy who kicks, would be a boy who
scratches!" "Ewwwwww! Gross! A boy with long fingernails!" all the girls said at once,
wrinkling their noses and laughing hysterically. "But you are a girl," Kelly proceeded,
getting back to the serious question at hand, "and thats why weve been working on
those knee-lifts and high-kicks. If youre close enough to him and he isnt very tall, knee
him in the groin as hard as you can. If hes standing too far to knee him, then kick him in
the groin. Then as soon as he lets go of you, and before he can recover from the pain, go
at him with your nails and scratch him really bad." "Ok," said another girl, "So, what if
some boy pushes me down and comes at me?" "Lift your legs in the air, Alexis, and as
he gets closer, slash his face with your toenails," Kelly said. "What if one of them jumps
on top of me and starts punching me?" asked a little dark-haired girl in pigtails. Kelly
said, "Hopefully, Amanda, that wont happen because hell be too busy and scared trying
to stay clear of your long, sharp nails. As long as your arms are free, keep clawing him.
Hed have to get you in a bear-hug, or hold your arms behind your back, so you cant
scratch, and then force you to the ground. If that happens, remember his bare legs, and
scrape your big toes nails down his shins and gouge them into his ankles." "What if he
still pulls me to the ground and is punching on me?" Amanda asked, tears starting to
come, "Thats what my brother does to me. Hes so strong." "Well," Kelly said, "This
time you have nails. But also, you have your camp sisters to help you. When any of you
hear a sister scream, whoever is closest stops what theyre doing and jumps on the guy,
pulling him off, and scratching his face and arms. Dont worry about other boys coming
to his aid. Once those boys see theyre in the fight of their lives, they will only care
about saving themselves." "Can we bite them?" asked Alyssa, who at 11 was already the
quintessential mean girl. "If you want," Kelly said, "But do you really want some
strangers skin and blood in your mouth?" "Eeeewwww, yuck!" they all screamed, and
probably decided that their nails were indeed their best weapons. The girls practiced
these tactics on Davey the canvas dummy, until Kelly was satisfied they were a matter
of reflex, and that the girls would be able to use them instinctively, without having to stop
and think. Thanks to the horse-hoof-hardener her grandmother had told Kelly about as a
child, the camp girls little long nails were so tough as to be virtually unbreakable, as well
as being razor-sharp, and Kelly spent about a 1/2 hour nightly mending rips in Davey the
Dummys canvas skin.
On the same note, there were a few problems that Kelly hadnt anticipated. One was that,
not being used to having long fingernails, some of the girls would scratch themselves
accidentally, and because they didnt want to alert the adult camp staff, it fell to Kelly to
cleanse and put iodine on the scratches rather than the camp nurse. Kelly also did a fair
amount of darning scores of little white socks with holes caused by longish, sharp
toenails. But the worst problem Kelly hadnt banked on was keeping the girls from using
their long nails on each other when tempers flared, as often did among pre-teen girls,
especially when cooped-up in a small cabin. Kelly was luckily was present for the first
such incident and was able to separate the individuals quickly enough that only arms had
been scratched, not yet faces. She sternly warned them that if one of them clawed-up
another in anger, the scratches would get noticed by the grownup staff, and no doubt they
would make all of the girls cut their nails. Still, these were 10-12 year-olds, and when
their tempers blew, reason went out the window. So Kelly knew she would have to
watch them carefully. Fortunately, there were only a couple of minor incidents and each
time, a few of the other girls managed to restore order before anyone was scratched bad.
It did serve to show Kelly that these girls were willing and capable to use their nails on
another human, and if what they did to their friends, their sisters-in-arms, in anger was
any indication, she shuddered to contemplate the bloodbath it would be against the boys
they truly hated. In fact she made a point of making the girls swear never to use their
nails on anyones eyes unless they were being raped or beaten. By the same token
though, Kelly wasnt completely sure that when it got down to reality, if her girls
wouldnt revert to being scared of the boys. After all, they had been programed all their
lives that they were physically no match for boys. Kelly decided that attacking a canvas
dummy and various produce from the supermarket wasnt enough, that what her girls
needed was live practice. The only problem was, who? She needed someone, or better,
some ones, who wasnt affiliated with the camps, so their plans wouldnt be discovered
and aborted. And, they would have to be about the same strength as the camper boys, but
Kelly didnt want to end up in jail for trying to lure young boys. It was a real dilemma.
On her day off, Kelly drove into a town some distance away for some shopping. After
she had dinner, she saw a movie, still trying to think of some way to give her girls a
chance to try out their newly-grown nails on real guys. On her way back to the car, she
happened to walk past a video arcade, and curiosity made her look inside. There were
only four people there. Four short-ish, scrawny guys who were dressed like 12 year-olds,
but by their faces were at least in their very late teens. Kelly thought to herself that shed
struck paydirt. Quickly she let down her ponytail and shook loose her thick, dark-blonde
hair. She pulled her shirttails from her tight jeans and tied them together just under her
boobs, revealing her toned, flat tummy, and unbuttoned the top three buttons, revealing
her ample cleavage. "Hey guys!" she said cheerfully as she waltzed into the arcade,
"Whats up?" Just as shed suspected, the four little nerdy guys stammered and stuttered
and fumbled, their eyes huge and their mouths open. Kelly sized up who the leader was
and she went over to him and lowered her eyes, pretending to be shy. "Im a counselor at
the girls camp outside of town, and me and my friends havent met any guys over the
age of 12 all summer," she said sadly. Which was true enough. She went on, still acting
shy, "Would you guys like to, um, maybe, like, come back with me and, um, I dunno,
like…..party with us?" The head nerd looked at the other three like pinch me, this must
be a dream and they looked at each other like ok someones punking us, wheres the
hidden camera?. Stifling a little queasiness, Kelly gently stroked the head-nerds face
with her 1/2-inch long, unpolished fingernails, and she could feel him shivver at her
touch. "What do you say, guys?" Kelly asked, looking at the other three nerds. They
could hardly contain themselves, and were almost panting like hungry dogs. "Follow
me," Kelly said, in her sexiest voice. The nerds looked down at the floor and shuffled
their feet. "Uh, we dont exactly have a car," the head nerd muttered, and Kelly noticed
four beat-up bicycles in a rack in front of the arcade. Doing her best not to show
contempt for those four losers, Kelly said cheerfully, "No problem guys, come with me!"
and motioned them toward a little green Subaru SUV with "Camp Wamaweelee" on the
door. As they approached the car, one of the nerds shouted "I call shotgun!" and an
argument ensued, with a volley of "You cant call shotgun", "I called shotgun last time",
"You always call shotgun". Kelly rolled her eyes and shook her head, those guys were so
totally lame. But she pointed the head nerd to the passenger door, and the other three
crammed into the back seat. As she drove back toward the camp, Kelly felt four sets of
nerd-eyes burning stares at her, which raised goosebumps all over her. At one point she
looked over, and the nerd next to her had a huge tent in his shorts. Silently she laughed
to herself, and decided to have a little evil teasing fun. Kelly gently and slowly stroked
his arm with her long fingernails. She could hear his breathing grow very fast, in fact she
thought he was about to hyperventilate. Unable to resist teasing him further, she reached
over and gently scraped her long fingernails over the bulge in his lap. To her shock and
disgust, he came instantly. Kelly thought to herself, "Oh, my God. What a fucking
loser." A large wet spot appeared on his shorts, and the smell made Kelly nauseous.
Finally they arrived at Camp Wamaweelee. It was around midnight and Kelly told the
four nerdy guys to wait in the car. Then she went to the girls cabin and told them to get
ready because she had four volunteers for them to practice what theyd learned. "Any
questions?" she asked. Brittney, always the one with a ready question, asked, "Do we,
like, pretend-scratch them, like, not really hard?" Kelly smiled, "Scratch them for real,
hard as you can. Pretend these are the boys from Camp Tikimogwa who you hate."
Heather, who was one of the older campers and was beginning to like boys, said, "But
Counselor Kelly, theyre not the dorks from Camp Tikimogwa. How can we just scratch
them when they never did anything to us?" Kelly turned to the group and said, "These
guys arent from Camp Tikimogwa, but they are total dorks. The kind of totally
disgusting-looking geeks you would never in your life even for a second consider talking
to, let along going out with. Short, skinny, un-cool losers." "Eeeewwwww!" the girls all
said. Kelly said, "Believe me, the only reason any of us would ever touch guys like that
would be to scratch them." The girls laughed. Kelly said, "Ill be back in a flash with
your human…well, actually, sub-human, sacrifices. Brandy, your bunk is closest to the
switch, so when I yell party time!, you flip on the lights. As she left the cabin, Kelly
turned out the lights. There was a little mumbling and giggling, and she put her finger to
her lips and softly went "Shhhhhh."
"Hey guys, sorry I took so long. Lets go inside and par-tay!" Kelly bubbled to the four
nerds who sprung from the car like snakes-in-a-can. They skipped ahead of Kelly, giddy
with anticipation of getting laid by hot eighteen year-old women. Once they were all
inside the dark cabin, Kelly locked the door behind her and yelled, "Party Time!".
Suddenly the lights came on, but instead of attack, the girls started to giggle hysterically.
The girls were mostly laughing out of fear and nervousness, not so much at the dorky
guys, but their self-esteem was very low and so they assumed the laughter was directed at
them. The nerds turned to Kelly and started to back her into a corner, yelling at her for
tricking them and trying to humiliate them by promising them sex (which she didnt, in
fact technically nothing shed said to them was a lie) and then delivering them to a room
full of pre-teen girls to be laughed-at. Kellys heart started to pound, and she didnt know
immediately what to do, but then she had an idea. The three follower-nerds were
blocking the girls view of Kelly, so they didnt see Kelly sink her sharp 1/2-inch
fingernails into the leader-nerds arm and pulled him down on top of her. He yelled,
"You bitch!" and she screamed, "Get off of me! Help! Girls!" Suddenly the dozen
barefoot girls snapped into action, their eyes wild with hatred and their fingers curled,
with the light from the bare ceiling bulbs reflecting off the long, white tips of their shiny
fingernails. "Rrrrraaaaaaaaaaa!" they roared, and sprang like jungle cats on the four
hapless dorks. The girls swarmed over the quartet of nerds, covering them from Kellys
view. She could hear the nerds screaming, "Owww! Owww! Shit! Owww!" and every
so often she would momentarily spot one of their arms, legs, or faces through the pile of
girls, and each time she could see the red, bleeding scratches multiply. It seemed like a
long time, but actually it was only a matter of seconds before the nerds screams turned to
wails and moans, and they stopped thrashing. Kelly knew she had to stop them before
the girls killed the four geeks. Her cries of, "Stop! Thats enough!" went unheeded, and
eighteen year-old Kelly suddenly faced the reality of how dangerous an angry mob was,
no matter how young and sweet the individuals might normally be the rest of the time.
Kelly felt panic as she saw that she was unable to control what shed created.
Fortunately Kelly was a quick-thinker, and she remembered the whistle she wore around
her neck, and after a couple of piercing blasts she was able to pull some of the girls off
the four victims, and the other girls soon followed. All but little Amanda, the girl whod
spoken about being victimized by her much-stronger brother. She had the leader-nerd
face-down on the floor, squatting on his scratch-covered back, her toenails dug into his
sides amid the shreds of what was left of his t-shirt, clutching her tiny but long and razor-
sharp fingernails into his neck so hard that Kelly had to use considerable force to pry
away little Amandas fingers one by one, while two of the other girls pulled her legs and
a third girl pulled at Amanda around the waist.
Kelly finally was able to get a good look at the four nerds. They were really messed up.
Their clothes were shredded in tatters, and every square inch of their visible skin was
streaked with raw, red, bleeding tracks. Kelly was actually shocked by the reality of what
shed enabled the little girls to do with their long nails, and prayed that they wouldnt
become so terrified by the gore that theyd puke. She really didnt want to have to clean
it up. "You guys had better beat it while you still can," Kelly said to the nerds. She was
still a little short of breath from wrestling Amanda off . The dorks looked at themselves
and two of them actually burst into tears like little kids. "Lets get out of here and call
the sherriff!" said one of them who wasnt bawling. "Thats a great idea," Kelly said
sarcastically, "Im sure the sherriff will be very sympathetic towards four men
tresspassing on private property, who broke into a cabin full of 10-12 year-old girls at
midnight." Alyssa, who had all the hallmarks of growing up into an even worse
scheming bitch than Kelly, laughed as she clicked her long thumbnail against one of her
long fingernails and said, "Yeah, we will all probably be grandmothers by the time you
losers get out of jail." A chorus of laughter rose up from the other eleven girls, putting to
rest any doubts Kelly had about them having pangs of conscience over what theyd done.
Realizing they were screwed, the four nerds pulled themselves up off the cabin floor and
stood by the door. "Its like 25 miles back to town. Could you give us a ride?" the
leader-nerd begged Kelly pathetically. "Its a beautiful night for a walk," Kelly said,
smiling sweetly. The guy actually smiled back at her, still smitten by her sexy charms
even though shed totally screwed him over. Kelly then said, "Of course, if youd rather
run, Id be happy to sic the girls on you again." The girls growled softly and bared their
long nails. The four nerds quickly elbowed their way out the door and hobbled off down
the path and disappeared into the night. "You all were totally awesome!" Kelly
exclaimed with enthusiasm, clapping her hands, "Give yourselves a huge round of
applause!" They all cheered and applauded and laughed and giggled. "Ok now," Kelly
said, returning to her authoritative self, "Before lights-out, everyone wash up, and make
sure to clean every bit of skin and blood from under your fingernails, and toenails too, if
you used them. And dont forget to say your prayers!"
Kelly was now certain that her girls were well-prepared to take on the boys from Camp
Tikimogwa when they would show up for the end-of-summer panty raid. Maybe a little
too well-prepared, but then, it would be 1-on-1 instead of the 3-on-1 like it was with the
sacrificial nerds. The girls had it all worked out. Every night during the last week of
camp, one of them would turn in early and wake up at around 11PM and stand watch.
They wore their gym clothes to bed every night, and those with long hair kept it in braids
tied up on their heads. Brandy, who slept closest to the light switch, which was by the
door, had the duty to wait until the last boy was inside, then turn on the lights and lock
the door and hide the key under her mattress, so that none of the raiders could escape.
The girls whose bunks were closest to the two windows, were to close them and draw the
shades and curtains, so the cabin would appear dark, and the sounds wouldnt wake up
any of the other camp staff.
Finally, it was the last night of camp. Kelly was wondering if the boys had decided not to
stage their end-of-camp panty raid after all, and if that was the case, she would be as
disappointed as her girls. But as Kelly was preparing for bed just after midnight, she
heard rustling out her window, and peeked around her curtains to see the figures of a
dozen young boys sneaking up on the girls cabin. She watched as the last one slipped
inside through the unlocked door, then she saw the lights go on for just a second before
the shades and curtains were drawn. Operation Scratchemup had begun. Her cabin was
close enough that she could hear banging and slamming, and muffled screams. But she
recognized that the screaming voices didnt belong to her girls, and an evil smile of
satisfaction came over Kellys beautiful lips as she imagined the mayhem taking place
inside those walls. Suddenly her reverie was broken, as she saw another, larger figure
head toward the girls cabin. It was Daniel, her counselor-counterpart at the boys camp.
"Shit!" she whispered to herself. Evidently, he had seen the boys sneak out and followed
them. Kelly had never met Daniel but shed heard he was the kind who liked to cite the
rule book a lot. Shed also heard that he was one of those moral-religious types who
intended to stay a virgin until his wedding night, which ordinarily wouldve made him a
total loser in her eyes, except for the fact that she saw him once and thought he was
awesomely hot, and from that moment on she had harbored an evil desire to be the one
to make him break his vow of celibacy. "Oh the sacrifices I make for my girls," Kelly
chuckled to herself as she stepped out onto the concrete slab in front of her cabin. "Hey!
Daniel?" she called out. "Huh? What?" Daniel answered, startled by her voice and
preoccupied with finding out what his boys were up to inside the girls cabin, where he
could also hear lots of banging and screaming that didnt sound like screams of joy.
Daniel looked over at Kellys cabin and saw her, barefoot and wearing a very skimpy
lace teddy, the moonglow highlighting her long, toned legs and her long, dark-blonde
hair. "Come here for a second," Kelly called. Daniel looked back toward the girls
cabin, torn between his duty to his boys, and the alluringly-beautiful young woman
beckoning him. Despite his vow to remain virginal until his wedding night, Daniel had
the same hormone levels as any other red-blooded nineteen year-old man, and a force
more powerful than his moral convictions drew him to Kellys side. "I think something
majorly bad is happening inside your girls cabin," Daniel said urgently, "I think wed
better go stop whatever it is." Kelly laughed softly and said, "Oh, Daniel, its the end of
the summer, let them have a little fun." "It doesnt sound like fun going on in there to
me," Daniel protested, "My boys can be pretty rough." Kelly smiled and said, "I think
you can rest assured that my girls can take care of themselves." Daniel started away, but
Kelly took his hand and gently raked her exquisite 1/2-inch long fingernails up his arm,
giving him goosebumps…and a huge erection. "But I need someone to take care of me,"
Kelly said in her most innocent and sexy voice, "Can you take care of me, Daniel? I
really want you to. And I want to take care of you, too, baby." Daniel remembered his
vow and pulled away from Kelly, but she indented her long nails into his arm slightly,
and he felt their extreme sharpness and a voice inside him told him he couldnt get away
without being scratched. Kelly stood with her body touching Daniels and brought her
other hand to his face. "You havent shaved in a while," she said, caressing his cheek
with her fingertips and then with the tips of her long fingernails. She could see
perspiration beading-up on Daniels forehead, he was trembling, and his breathing was
getting faster. Kelly felt Daniels the hard bulge in Daniels camp shorts against her bare
thigh and she moved her leg against it. Daniel moaned softly, and she knew she had him.
Kelly slipped her hand behind Daniels head and gently guided his lips to hers and their
tongues probed hungrily inside each others mouths. Kelly lightly scraped her long nails
against the back of Daniels neck, at the same time she slowly caressed her soft, bare foot
up his bare leg, gently scraping her toenails against him and almost imperceptibly
grinding herself against his rock-hard package. Daniel had never reckoned on a
seductress of Kellys caliber, and his convictions were no match for her prowess. Still
gently holding onto his arm with her long fingernails to prevent him from breaking away
in case he had a last-second burst of guilt, Kelly led Daniel into her cabin, where she
took luxurious pleasure in very slowly ending Daniels nineteen years of virginity. Her
long fingernails and toenails raked Daniels naked body to heights of pleasure hed never
even dreamed of. Meanwhile, not more than twenty yards away, her princess-warriors
were inflicting quite the opposite of pleasure with their long, sharp nails.
Kelly had no touble enjoying Daniels strong body, while still keeping track of the time
her girls were engaged in scratching their captives. An hour of lovemaking with Kelly
seemed like eons to Daniel. Experiencing real sex for the first time, he was exhausted
from the physical and emotional workout, and he fell deep asleep. Kelly quietly slipped
into her sweats and tiptoed out the door, locking the deadbolt quietly from outside, so that
even if Daniel woke up, he couldnt get out. She raced to the girlscabin and used her
master key to unlock the door, quickly entering and locking it behind her so the sound of
screaming wouldnt echo through the wooded camp grounds. Each of her girls was
kneeling on top of a boy. The boys either had their shirts torn open in front or were
completely shirtless, and their faces, bodies, legs, and arms were covered with scratches.
Long scratches, short scratches, clusters of three and four parallel scratches, criss-
crossing every inch of their exposed skin. Their arms and hands were especially raw and
bloodied from the defensive wounds they sustained trying to protect their faces from the
onslaught of razor-sharp fingernails. By that time the boys cries reduced to pitiful
whimpers of, "Stop. Stop. Quit it! Owwwww!" as the girls, who were clearly victorious,
each now had a prisoner pinned to the floor, laughing and calling out to each other to
watch while they inflicted a scratch. Kelly was relieved a little to see that nobody
seemed to have wounds that required stitches, but those boys would be sore and marked-
up for a long time. Definitely they would be starting school with scratches in abundance,
and all their pals would humiliate them for being beaten-up by girls. "Okay girls," Kelly
said, "Time for the fun to end." "Awwwwwwww…," they all whined at once. "Let
them up," Kelly said firmly. As the boys scrambled to their feet, Kelly opened the door
and said, "Go on, scram!" "Were telling!" one of the younger boys bawled, big tears
dripping down his face alongside the marks from multiple fingernail scratches. "You do
that," Kelly said, "You tell everyone that you broke into the girls cabin in the middle of
the night and found out that girls arent weak and defenseless like boys think, and that
abusing girls can get you hurt really bad." The girls all cheered and applauded, as the
wounded boys beat a hasty exit. Kelly helped them straighten up the cabin, and made
sure they all cleaned and washed their hands and feet and cleaned the dry blood and bits
of skin from underneath their long nails. Little Amanda had the start of a black eye, and
a couple of the other girls had some slight bruises, but by and large they were unharmed
compared to the boys. Kelly put some ice on Amandas eye. "It doesnt hurt!" Amanda
said with bravado, and, baring her tiny long fingernails, she squeaked excitedly, "You
shouldve seen what I did to his hand he punched me with!"
After the girls were all in bed, Kelly went back to her cabin. She was tired but at the
same time very wired by what the girls shed trained had done with the long nails shed
helped them grow. She woke Daniel up and proceeded to have wild, animalistic sex with
him. After they both came, Daniel, breathless and panting, put his arm around Kelly and
started to say, "Kelly, I think Im in lo…" She interrupted him with a kiss, and as she
rolled on her side and pulled up the covers she said sleepily, "Turn the porch light off on
your way out, ok baby?"
The next morning, which was the final morning of camp, the girls packed up their things
and waited for their parents to arrive to pick them up. The girls were still talking about
and reliving the events of the night before. Some of them asked each other if they were
going to keep their nails long, and all of them said yes. A couple of the younger girls
wondered if their parents would let them. Kelly told them not to worry, that their nails
grew so fast now thanks to the gelatin, and were so tough to cut thanks to the hoof-
hardener, that their parents would quickly grow weary of trying to keep the nails really
short. She also told them to remember that even 1/16 1/8 inch nails were plenty long
enough to be deadly weapons, especially if theyd just been cut or filed, which made
them razor-sharp. "It isnt the length of the nails, its the willingness to use them without
concern for how bad you scratch someone," Kelly taught them. The girls, who had
formed deep bonds of sisterhood over the summer thanks to their unified goal of nail-
growing and revenge, cried and hugged and kissed each other and Kelly as each of them
left with their parents. Kelly stood nearby as little Amanda got into the back seat of her
moms SUV, next to her brother who she had been terrified of. The brother grabbed one
of Amandas pigtails, laughing hard when she screamed. Amanda reacted instantly,
clawing his hand with her nails, which were razor-sharp and peeled the skin from his
knuckles. His hand began to bleed immediately. "Aaaaaaaaaggh! Amanda scratched
me!" the boy screamed. Their mother turned around with a disbelieving look on her face.
"Look Mommy!" Amanda squeeked, thrusting her fingers out to show off her tiny long
fingernails. "Oh, how wonderful!" her mom gushed, "You finally decided to stop biting
your nails! Now we can go to the salon together!" The brother began to bawl, "Im
bleeding! She scratched me! She scratched me!" "Serves you right!" their mother said,
tapping her long, red-polished nails on the steering wheel. Amanda made a clawing
motion at her brother, and the boy put up his hands and ducked and cried,
"Mommmmmmeeeeee!!!" Amanda looked at Kelly through the window and winked,
and Kelly gave Amanda the thumbs-up and watched them drive away.
After all the girls had left, Kelly went back to her cabin to get ready for the party that
Paul DuMont threw every year at the end of the season for all the counselors at both the
girls and boys camps. It was a beautiful late-summer night in the Hamptons, and all
the counselors were ready to cut loose now that they no longer had kids to look after.
Kelly grabbed a beer and mingled with the others. She looked for Daniel but he was
nowhere around. There had been lots of interesting anecdotes that happened during the
summer, but the one that was on everyones lips that night was the cabin full of 10-12
year-old boys at Camp Tikimogwa who had showed up at breakfast that same morning
covered with scratches that they claimed they got from pricker bushes in the woods, but
were obviously from human nails. The story continued that the boys counselor, Daniel,
was off screwing some girl instead of watching the boys, and they probably went on a
panty raid and got nailed by some of the 13-16 year-old senior camper girl…after all,
they were the only ones who were thought to maybe have long enough nails to do that
kind of damage. However, those girls likewise denied everything. So, the gossip
continued, this morning the boys parents were livid when they saw what had happened
to their sons, and threatened to sue the camp and Paul DuMont, who promptly made a
scapegoat of Daniel and fired him publicly. Furthermore, Mr. DuMont refused to pay
Daniel his summers wages, telling him that if he sued for them he could expect to be
arrested on charges of criminal negligence. "Any idea who the girl was that Daniel was
with?" Kelly asked one of the other counselors. "Beats us," said the other counselor, "But
it definitely wasnt his girlfriend, the one he had the celibacy pact with." "How do you
know?" Kelly asked. "Because," came the answer, "She was there when DuMont made
Daniel take off his Camp Tikimogwa t-shirt, and when she saw scratches all over his
back, she went totally ballistic and jumped in her car and drove off."
The party lasted until around 3AM, with lots of beer and dancing, and many of the male
and female counselors ended up pairing off for their last night before scattering back to
wherever they came from. The next morning around 9AM there was a knock on Kellys
cabin door. Quickly she wrapped a towel around herself and stepped out of the shower
and went to see who it was. There stood Daniel, with his backpack and his duffle bag on
the ground. He looked dirty and dissheveled and there were pieces of dry leaves in his
messy hair. "What happened to you?" Kelly asked. Daniel recounted the details of his
firing and being dumped by his celibate girlfriend when she saw the scratches Kelly had
left on his back during their wild night of sex. "Oh, God, baby, Im so sorry," Kelly said
sympathetically, acting like she didnt already know. Kelly put her palms to the door
screen, and Daniel got hard looking at her 1/2-inch fingernails. She scraped them slowly
along the screen, and the sound drove Daniel wild with desire. "It was all worth it,"
Daniel said, "Everything was worth it, on account of meeting you." Kelly started to say
something but Daniel went on, "I never knew anything could feel so wonderful, including
all twenty of your sharp nails clawing me while we made love. It was such sweet pain, so
totally incredible. I know it was fate, that it was all meant to happen. My lifes going to
be fine now that I have you. I love you, Kelly." "Um," Kelly said, looking up
momentarily, "This might be, like, really awkward…" Just then a deep voice came from
inside Kellys cabin, and a tall, well-built man wearing a towel around his waist appeared
next to Kelly in the doorway and put his arm around her. "Is anything wrong?" the man
asked. Kelly gently ran her fingers through the thick mat of hair on his chest and gently
scratched it with her perfect, 1/2-inch long fingernails. "Everythings fine, baby. Go
finish your shower, Ill be there in a minute, I promise," she said. The big man looked
out at Daniel, and with a frown said, "You? What are you doing here?" "Mr.
DuMont??!!"
-
Knock Knock
Knock Knock…by Nicole
Hello. Im sorry for intruding, but I saw you downstairs in the restaurant eating dinner
alone. You paid your check and left just as I was about to come over to your table. So I
peeked at the receipt you left on the table and saw your room number. I dont usually do
things like this. I hope you dont think Im some kind of crazed stalker. No? Whew!
My name is Nicole by the way. Nice to meet you, too. So…arent you going to invite
me in? Yes, of course I mean it. Haha, well Im glad you think Im hot…but youre
being much too modest about yourself. Youre very attractive. Really? Well those
women are fools.
You know, I didnt have a chance to finish my drink at dinner. What do you say we see
whats in the minibar? Yes, I know its outrageously expensive. But Im worth it arent
I? Hehe. Hmm, lets see…ah, vodka! My favorite. What? Youre not going to join
me? Oh come on, just one drink! Please? You arent going to make me drink alone are
you? Ok, thats better. Oh, here, could you get the top off for me? Im afraid I might
break a nail. Yes! They are really mine! Im impressed you can tell. Are you a
manicurist? No? Im glad, hehe. So then your wife or girlfriend must be into her nails,
right? Really? Youre unattached! Im even more glad! Well…ching ching!
Haha, I can tell youre not a drinker. Here, why dont you stretch out on the bed? Mmm,
I love the way vodka warms me all the way down. Dont sip it, just drink it all at once,
itll go down much smoother that way. Hahahaha, yes, I lied. Forgive me? Thank you.
Mind if I stretch out next to you? Thanks. Here, let me loosen your tie and undo your
top button. Ooops, did I scratch you? No? Whew! My nails are soooo sharp. Here, feel
the ends with your fingertips. See? I told you! Huh? I dont know…three-quarters of
an inch maybe. Thank you! Men dont always feel that way. No, really. Some men
think my nails are ugly. Haha, yes, I agree, they are fools! How long? Hmm, let me
think…I guess, since I was about twelve. I wanted to grow them ever since I can
remember, but my parents wouldnt allow it.
Say…since you seem to really appreciate my nails…what do you say if we just undo all
your buttons…and you turn over on your stomach and Ill give you a back-scratch.
Mmmmm, I love feeling my nails on skin…and the crisp, hissing sound they make.
Ooohh, hehe! That was some moan! You really like this, dont you! Can I ask you
something? Shhh, let me put my lips right up to your ear and whisper it. Heres the
question: Am I getting you hard with my nails? Hehe, was that little whimper a yes?
Can I check for myself? No? Are you shy? No? Well then, what is it? Oh, I think I
know. Youre afraid if I touch it you wont be able to stop yourself from letting go.
Trust me. I have a marvelous gift for prolonging a man. Its like a natural talent. You
can put yourself completely in my…hands. But first, as long as my lips are so close to
your ear, Im going lick my tongue around inside. Mmmmm, I can tell you liked that.
And I know youre going to love me making little kisses and bites all down this side of
your neck…like this…while I trace my nails down the other side….like this. Hehe, no
no! You cant kiss me. Not yet. When? Later. Maybe. What? Me, a tease?
Hahahaha, oh darling you have no idea. Im positively evil. Now turn over on your
back.
Do you like my warm hands on your chest? My fingers are very soft arent they. Hehe,
but I know what you really want. You want me to use my nails dont you. Yes? All you
have to do is ask me. Say please. Hehe, say pretty please. Say, Nicole, I need to feel
your beautiful long, sharp fingernails scratching my chest. Hmmm, on second thought, I
think you should beg. Hahaha, I told you I was evil. My, that was a plaintive moan. I
think it deserves a little scratch. Mmmmmm, now wasnt that worth begging for? How
about if I play with your nipples with my long nails? Hehe, oh my gosh you really like
that dont you! Know what Id like? Id like to suck on your nipple with my teeth while
I scratch my nails up and down your ribs. Oooooh, I see you like that, too! Want to see
my nipples? Here, let me take my top off. Well? What do you think? Hehe, why thank
you! No, Ive never had a boob job. Theyre all mine, honest. Just like my nails. Go
ahead, feel them. Not my nails, silly! I meant, feel my boobs! Hahaha, dont apologize.
Really, its ok. Cmon, lets get these pesky pants off you. Whoops, your shoelaces are
really knotted tight. Youll have to untie them, because I might break a nail. Oh my, yes
I agree that would be a terrible tragedy.
Hmm, I wonder what that little mountain is inside your underpants…here, let me have a
peek. My, you are a shy one, arent you. Now, let go of my hand. I mean it, let go!
Ugh! See what you made me do? I scratched you. But you knew my nails are awfully
sharp, so its your own fault. Oh, dont pout. Here, let me see your hand. Youre only
bleeding a little. Let me kiss it. Mmmmm…hehe, you really like feeling my lips on your
hand, dont you! Maybe you want me to scratch you harder next time? Really? You do?
Gosh, I was only kidding. Now where was I? Oh yes, I remember, I was about to take
your underpants off. Boing! Hehehehe. Now, doesnt it feel better to be out in the open
instead of all squished-up inside? You have a very nice cock, by the way. If you dont
mind Im just going to lay my head on your knees and admire your cock for a little while.
Oh, there you go pouting again! Tell you what. How about if I just run my little foot up
your arm? Would you like that? Yes? Mmmm, I can see you do. Your cock just
jumped. Cocks dont lie.
I want to caress your face with my foot. Isnt it silky! I give myself a pedicure every
other day, just to keep my feet soft and beautiful. I do have beautiful feet, dont I!
Everyone always says I have the cutest, plumpest toes. Look, Ill spread them for you.
See my toenails from underneath…how they hang over my plump little toes? And how
theyre rounded on the tips? Arent they just like sexy little red cat claws! Here, let me
scratch them on your cheek. Hehehe, oh my! Your cock is a regular jumping-jack!
Mmmm, I want to feel your lips with my toes. Ooooh, nice! Lick them for me…please?
Oh, wow, that feels soooo good! Cmon, open up! Oh, yes, thats it. Suck my toes.
Lick between them. Mmmmm, stick your tongue out, I want to scratch my long toenails
on it. Wheeeee! Hahahaha, oh my thats driving you insane isnt it! But its time to
move on. Aww, stop pouting! I promise, its only going to get better and better. Ok,
here, Ill bring my foot back down your body slowly, so you can enjoy every second of it.
Ill even stop and play with your nipples with my long red toenails. Mmmmm, Im
driving you wild arent I? Hehe, but guess what, the best is still to come. Ok, spread
your legs so I can sit between them.
Im going to touch your cock now. Are you ready? Are you prepared for it? I have to
warn you, its going to take every ounce of your willpower not to squirt the second you
feel my soft fingers on your cock. Ready? You know what, on second though I decided
not to do this. Hehehe, just kidding. I know, Im evil. But seriously, I think I should
start with just one finger. At first Ill just touch it against the side of your cock like this.
Are you ok? Good. Now Ill touch the rest of my fingers to it. Tell me if you feel like
youre going to squirt, and Ill stop, ok? Alright, Im going to wrap my hand around your
cock very slowly. My hand is warm, isnt it. And soft, like silk. No no! Take slow, deep
breaths. Hehe, youre ready to hyperventilate, and I havent even stroked it yet. Calmed
down yet? Yes? Thats better. Im stroking it now, very slowly, very gently. Mmmm,
you have a really smooth cock…and so nice and hard. Now Im going to just rest my
thumb against your cock head, underneath where it splits. Yes, I know thats a really
sensitive spot. Ill be very gentle. Ahhhh, I can tell you like it. Hehe, its driving you
nuts feeling me rub it in circles with my soft thumb, isnt it! What if I rub my thumb
over your pee hole? Mmmmm, oh my! I can feel your cock throbbing in my hand. Lets
see, are your balls tightening? Hey, hold still! I dont want to poke you with my sharp
nails. Well, not hard anyway…hehehehe! Ooooh, hearing you grunting and gasping is
getting me super hot! It turns me on like crazy knowing what Im doing to you. And that
makes me want to do even more things. Like, for example…stroking your pee hole with
my long thumbnail. Ahhhhahahaha! My my, if you could only see your expression
watching me stroke my long thumbnail across your pee hole. Your eyes are bugging,
your face is red…Mmmmm, your nut sack feels like leather, its so tight. Youre right on
the verge arent you? You can feel yourself boiling up cant you? My thumbnail is so
long isnt it? You can hear it flicking across your pee hole, and feel how sharp the edge
is. I bet youre trying to think of all sorts of distractions, to keep yourself from squirting.
I bet it pisses you off that I keep reminding you how long and sharp my thumbnail is, and
how much Im making you want to squirt, stroking it over your pee hole while the rest of
my fingers are wrapped around your cock. I bet youd love me to give your cock a
stroke, just one long stroke, to make you let go. Hehehe, but I wont. In fact, Im going
to stop for a minute until you calm back down. Awww, I know your balls ache. Poor
baby. Would you like to kiss me? Yes? Welllll…too bad! You cant. Hahahaha.
I think youve calmed down now, even though youre still pretty hard. What do you
think? Should I keep going? Yes? Good, because I can hardly bear to keep my hands
off your cock. Mmmm, I want to get both hands on it this time. Would that be ok?
Haha, yeah, I thought so! Suppose I start by gently rubbing the sides up and down with
my fingertips. Slowly, very slowly. Well…maybe a little faster than this. Hehe, there
you go starting to hyperventilate again. Honestly, you really need to chill, otherwise
youll never last long enough for me to do what I know you want me to do. I do too
know! Oh yes I do! You dont believe me? Ok, you want me to use my long fingernails
on your cock! Youre shocked I knew? You cant hide your thoughts from me, I can tell
every little thing youre thinking. But I want to hear you say it. Tell me you want me to
use my nails. Im sorry, I didnt quite hear you. Nope, still cant hear you. Maybe if you
put your hands together like youre praying, and really plead with all your heart.
Mmmmm, I like when you beg me, hehehehe. And so because Im such a nice person, I shall
now stroke my long pinkie nail all the way from the bottom of your cock to the tip, very
slowly. Oooooh, I could just see your cock head swell up bigger when I did that. Should
I do it again? Ask me nice. Hehe, alright, here. Slowly, all the way from the bottom to
the tip…my loooonnnnng pinkie nail…and now, slowly all around the rim under your
cockhead…and now, all around your pee hole…and now, just inside the opening. Hold
still! Im liable to poke my long nail all the way into your pee hole if you keep
squirming. Whats that look in your eyes? Oh my gosh! You want me to do that, dont
you! Hehe, I told you I can read your thoughts. Ok, here goes. No, wait. Let me hold
your cock with my other hand, Im really afraid I might hurt you. My pinkie nail is
almost an inch long, and its really, really sharp. Alright, here I go again…slowly.
Hmm, thats about a quarter of an inch…halfway now…are you sure you want it all the
way inside? Yes? Ok, hehe. Whoooo! Its in all the way up to my fingertip! How does
it feel? Hehehehehe, oh my gosh, take it easy and dont have a heart attack! Ok, youre
going to squirt in like a split second, so Im pulling my nail out now. Whew! That was a
close call. Mmmmm, I never did that to anyone before. I think I liked it as much as you
did.
So then, for my next trick…hahahaha…I will now stroke your cock with all my beautiful
long fingernails, from bottom to top. Ooooh, youre liking this a lot! Actually Im
shocked you havent squirted yet. I know its torture for you trying not to. But believe
me you cant even imagine what youll be missing if you squirt prematurely. Trust me.
Mmmmm, here go my nails up the sides of your cock again. Hahahaha, aww poor poor
baby, holding back…trying so hard to last…even though my long, gorgeous fingernails
are scratching slowly up and down your hard cock and its driving you completely
insane. Ohhhh, Im sooooo loving doing this to you. It just makes me shiver with
delight. By the way, people tell me my lips look like Angelina Jolies. Do you think so?
Yes? Sexier?! Oh my, thank you! What if at the same time I stroke your cock with all
my long fingernails, I lean down and let you kiss me? Would you like that? Mmmmm, I
bet you would. Too bad Im not going to. Hahaha, definitely, I am very evil. But admit
it, Im the sexiest woman youve ever met. Dont just nod, say it. I want to hear you say
"Nicole, youre the most irresistible woman in the world, and you have the sexiest, most
stunning nails ever." Hehe, I can tell by the way you say it that you really mean it! And
just to show my appreciation…here, feel my nails on your thighs, feel me scratch them
slow and sexy. Mmmmm, let me lick your cock like an ice-cream cone. Ok ok! Ill
scratch it with my nails again. Hehe, my gosh you really have a huge thing for long
nails! No, Im not making fun of you! Im totally down with it. I love that you love my
nails, because I love them too. You wouldnt believe it but some guys prefer women
with short nails. Seriously! My last boyfriend kept on me and on me to cut them, and
they were only about a fourth of an inch at the time. Huh? Are you kidding? Hell no, I
didnt cut them. In fact, I grew them twice as long…and then I dumped his sorry ass.
Any guy who doesnt like having his cock scratched with long fingernails has a serious
problem, I think. Hehe. Definitely you dont have any problem there. Mmmmm, I
swear I can feel your cock grow and throb every time I stroke it with my nails.
I want to do something really special for you, ok? Hehehe, yes, of course it involves my
nails. Ok, first we need to hold your cock very steady. Hahaha, no, you just keep your
hands at your sides! Ill just wrap my toes around it. Youd like that wouldnt you? You
think my toes are super sexy dont you? Yes? Well then, say it! Hehe, ok, thats better.
In fact, first I want to caress your cock with my toes. Hehe, arent they silky! Hey, calm
down, Im only getting started. I havent even begun to scratch your cock with my cute,
long red toenails yet. Thats going to happen….starting now. Mmmmm, dont my sharp
toenails feel amazing up and down your hard cock? Hehehe, my gosh youre like, in
heaven arent you! Ok, now Im going to grab your cock with my toes…feel my toenails
pricking? Now, Im going to stroke it with my long fingernails. What? Faster? Are you
sure? My long nails are making red lines all up and down your cock! Tell me if it hurts
and Ill slow down and do it softer. Seriously, it doesnt hurt? Gosh, you must be
unbelievably turned-on if you dont care what my sharp nails are doing to you. And oh
my gosh! I dont care either! Im unbelievably turned-on too, hehe!
Why did I stop? Because you were going to squirt any second, thats why! No, Im not
being evil. Really, Im not. Maybe this kiss will prove it. Mmmmm, I think that was the
best kiss Ive ever had. Lets fuck. Get on top of me. Ooooh, yesss! I can feel you deep
inside me. Oh shit! Oh fuck! Harder! Faster! Mmmmmm! I can scratch the back of
your knees with my long red toenails if you want? Hehehehe, oooooh wow! You really
love that, I can tell. I could feel your cock jump inside me. Oh sweet lord! Im just
tearing your back to shreds with my long sharp fingernails. But you dont mind do you!
Mmmmmm, I never knew how much scratching a guy turns me on! I think Im going to
cum…are you? Yes? Lets cum together…with me scratching you!
-
Long Nails Journey Into Nigh 1-11
Long Nails Journey Into Night (Part 1)...by Gary B.
"Gary! Hurry up! We can't be late for your first day of school! This is the most important
day of your life, the beginning of everything you'll be and do!"
I still remember my mother uttering those words, standing there impatiently by the door
in her high heels, dressed in a white blouse and blue skirt, holding my jacket in one hand
and her purse and car keys in the other. I'm sure, however, that had she had any inkling
about how my first day of school would actually impact my future, she would've
barricaded the door with her own body if necessary, to prevent me from ever stepping
outside. But Mom had no premonition, and cheerfully ushered me out to the driveway
and into the rear passenger-side door of her station wagon. It was only a five-minute
ride to the school, and when we arrived she took my face in her hands and gave me a kiss
on the cheek, then moistened her thumb with her tongue and wiped off the smudge of red
lipstick she'd left. Nowadays my most distinct memory of that moment is the dark-red
nail polish on her long nails that were carefully manicured to perfect ovals. But at the
time, I was only focused on my fear of the unknown.
I was small for my age, quiet and shy. We'd just moved into the neighborhood and I
didn't know any of the kids, who mostly already knew each other and had established
friendships. Kindergarten-age kids are not known for granting warm acceptance to
newcomers, especially shy ones, and in fact the typical welcome ranges from ostracism to
outright hostility. I remember vividly the moment I walked through the classroom door,
meeting a sea of eyes staring me down with suspicion and distrust. I wanted to turn and
run, but a silver-haired matron with a surprisingly soft and youthful voice placed her
hands on my shoulders and gently led me to my seat. Mrs. Hobart was my teacher's
name. Her fingers were slightly gnarled with the beginnings of arthritis, and her un-
polished nails had pronounced ridges, their slightly-long white tips filed almost to points.
As with my mother's nails that morning, it's something I recall vividly now, but at the
time was unaware it had even registered. By day's end however, it would be the sort of
thing that would forever register first and foremost.
We sat at our desks facing front. I wished I could turn myself invisible, like in the H.G.
Wells novel, so I could observe and scrutinize my classmates without anyone knowing.
I made only quick and surreptitious glances at the other kids, praying neither they nor the
teacher would catch me looking. There were a couple of close calls, but I managed to
avoid making eye-contact. About mid-morning Mrs. Hobart told everyone to come sit in
a circle on the floor by her big gray metal desk, and she pulled her chair around and sat
down to read us a story. I made a conscious effort to look either straight at Mrs. Hobart's
clunky black leather shoes, or down into my lap, but I had the feeling someone was
staring at me. I lifted my eyes for an instant, and they met the gaze of a girl about
halfway around the circle of kids. Quickly I lowered my eyes and then raised them
again, expecting that having been discovered, she would've shifted her gaze away. But
the girl was still looking at me, quite intently. She was neither smiling nor frowning, in
fact I couldn't discern her mood from her expression at all. She continued to stare for a
long moment, until a plump girl next to her took her attention away by grabbing her arm
and whispering something in her ear. The girl who had been looking at me seemed
amused by whatever her chubby friend had said, and cast her gaze back to me for just a
second before turning her attention to the teacher.
After Mrs. Hobart finished reading the story, we had a short discussion about it, and then
the bell rang for lunch. Most of the kids bolted for the door in a stampede of pattering
shoes and squealing voices, but being shy I decided to let the herd disperse before I
ventured out. Hoping to not call attention to myself I lingered by the side of the room,
pretending to be interested in some posters that were taped to the wall. I had that same
feeling someone was watching me, and I turned in time to see the same girl staring at me
again, with the same inscrutable expression on her face. She didn't look away, but I
could see the dark pupils of her big brown eyes darting, checking me out from head to
toe. So I did likewise to her. She had dark-blond hair, straight and a little past shoulder
length, pinned back on each side with a little red clip in the shape of a butterfly. She had
a little upturned button nose, and deep pink lips with a perfect Cupid's bow. She looked
like a doll, but for her somber countenance.
Each of us seemed to be waiting for the other to break the ice. In my case it was shyness
that held my tongue, and I supposed it was likewise for her. But the result was we just
stood there looking each other up and down silently. It was an impasse that might very
well have lasted forever had it not been for the girl's plump companion who had been
washing her hands in the sink, but now came and stood between us. Keeping one eye on
me, she nodded her jowly face and asked eagerly, "Ok, Lindsay?" I thought to myself
that Lindsay was a nice name and suited her. "Ok, Shawna," Lindsay said with a sigh of
ennui. I thought to myself that the name Shawna suited the chubby girl, too. Shawna
cupped her plump hands to Lindsay's ear and whispered something, and then the two of
them left giggling.
I made my way to the lunchroom and walked past endless rows of kids at long tables,
laughing and talking with each other. But if I spotted an empty seat and made eye
contact with anyone in proximity, they turned away quickly in a wordless but clear
message that I was unwelcome. At the end of the last table Lindsay and Shawna sat
across from each other, and they both lifted their heads as I approached. They didn't
shoot me unwelcome looks, so I set my tray down next to Shawna because she was
closer, and silently went about eating my lunch. "Guess what!" Shawna said. I turned
slightly, not sure if she was speaking to me, but she was looking straight at me. "What?"
I answered readily, glad that someone finally had spoken to me. "Lindsay has long
fingernails," Shawna said, stretching the word 'long'.
" Oh," I replied, not sure of what she expected me to make of it, but I looked at Lindsay's
hands. I could see she had clear/white nail prominently visible well past all her
fingertips, but my mom and my aunt both had very long nails and with that frame of
reference, I wasn't exactly awestruck by Lindsay's. "They're her claws!" Shawna insisted,
annoyed that I didn't seem sufficiently impressed, and enunciated with emphatic clarity,
"They're really sharp." She nodded at Lindsay, who picked up a raw carrot and slowly
scraped its length with her fingernails, creating five thin curls of skin, before sinking her
nails into the stalk and dangling it from them for me to admire. Following that
demonstration, Shawna leaned closer and said, "When Lindsay scratches someone she
makes them bleed!" I felt a shiver and swallowed hard. "Does she scratch you?" I asked,
interested to ascertain if becoming Lindsay's friend earned one protection. "Sometimes.
If I deserve it," Shawna replied. Then she turned to Lindsay and said encouragingly,
"Give him a claw!" At that Lindsay lunged across the table with fingers curved to strike.
I drew back instinctively, just as her nails landed with loud clicks on the table where my
hands had rested an instant before. Up close, Lindsay's nails appeared much longer than
they had from across the table. Looking back I'd estimate they averaged a quarter-inch
(7mm), with her ring fingers slightly longer, and pinkies longer still. The adrenaline
from the sudden brush with danger made my heart pound and my mouth dry as cotton.
Before I could assemble my thoughts, Shawna came from behind, grabbed my wrists and
forced both my hands flat against the table. Under her ample weight, I was unable to
move. Lindsay dug all ten of her nails into the back of my hands.
Never before in my life had I experienced anything remotely equivalent to the pain that
shot up my arms and exploded inside my brain. I can liken it to ten honed steel blades, or
perhaps razor-thin pieces of broken glass. But truly, no words can adequately convey
how piercingly sharp Lindsay's nails were. She leaned in and squeezed with all her
might, that her fingers and nailbeds blanched white. Then she began to dig and release,
dig and release, again and again in a rapid pulse that sent wave after wave of stabbing
pain. I could see my blood seeping around where each of Lindsay's ten long fingernails
was buried to the hilt in my skin, and I was crying and begging for her to stop and for
them to let me go. I couldn't struggle out of Shawna's weighty grip no matter how hard I
tried, and Shawna laughed. But what unnerved me most was Lindsay looking straight
into my eyes with no expression of emotion, seemingly oblivious to the pain she was
inflicting. Finally, in a tone of boredom not mercy, Shawna asked Lindsay, "Think
maybe he's had enough?" "Ok," Lindsay sighed, sounding a bit let-down. But she dug
her nails in one more time and drew her fingers back slowly, scratching across the back
of my hands and down my fingers, her razor-edged nails catching on the loose skin on
my knuckles and laying them bare. Then as if nothing had happened, Lindsay and
Shawna started to leave. I glared at Lindsay and cried, "I'm telling!" but her face showed
no reaction to the threat. Instead she glanced at Shawna, who with a saccharine smile
between her chubby cheeks said, "If you tell on Lindsay she'll claw your face. I saw her
do it to a boy once. She clawed his eyes and now he can't see." In retrospect that was
undoubtedly a lie, but sitting there looking at the ten swollen, semi-circular punctures on
my hands and the long crimson furrows that trailed from each wound down to my
fingertips; seeing myself bleed and feeling my hands burn and throb, there was no way I
was going to call Lindsay's bluff. So no matter how much my mother coaxed and
prodded and interrogated me that night, I refused to name my assailant. She implored
my father to intervene, but he just laughed and said with a wink, "I think Gary and one of
his little playmates have a crush on each other."
Maybe my dad had it pegged. From that day on despite fearing her nails, I was
magnetized to Lindsay. I was scared to go near her, and yet I couldn't stay away from
her. The thing I looked forward to the most about school was seeing Lindsay, or more
specifically, watching her nails. They fascinated me. She fascinated me . The danger
fascinated me. It thrilled me to recall the remorseless expression on her face while she
had clawed me, and to re-imagine the explosive pain. As days turned into weeks and the
fading memory made it increasingly difficult to recapture that thrill, I found myself
approaching Lindsay closer and more often. I was terrified of her scratching me again,
yet I was becoming more brazen. One morning I snatched a red crayon just as she was
reaching for it. She whined, "That was mine! Gimme it!", grabbed my arm and pried at
my fingers with her other hand. But, she wasn't using her nails. I didn't understand what
made me hold on to that crayon until Lindsay dug her sharp, long fingernails into my
arm, or what compelled me to continue holding on until she had scratched and clawed my
hand repeatedly. I knew only that the striking pain and fresh wounds brought back the
thrill of that first time. At recess the next day I goaded Shawna into pinning me against
the fence while Lindsay raked my arms with her sharp claws, and at lunch the following
week Shawna held my arms behind me while Lindsay dug her fingernails into the back of
my neck and scratched me mercilessly.
I didn't understand what drove me to continue, with increasing frequency, to provoke
Lindsay into using her nails on me throughout the rest of kindergarten. Or why now
whenever I saw any girl or woman I would look first at her nails, feeling thrilled if they
were long, and dejected if they weren't. I didn't understand why I'd grown to crave
having my back scratched by my mom and aunt with their long, manicured and polished
nails...but they thought it was cute, and were usually happy to indulge me. I was sad and
depressed when kindergarten ended, because the district was large and Lindsay lived
miles away, so I wouldn't likely see her over the summer months. I didn't know it, but we
wouldn't be going to the same school for first grade in the fall, and I would never see
Lindsay again. But though the imprint her nails made in my flesh had all but faded by
summer's end, the imprint they made in my psyche would continue to deepen with time.
(...to be continued).
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Part 2
Long Nails Journey Into Night (Part 2) … by Gary B.
(…continued)
The most confusing time in my life was right after my nail obsession had been scratched
open by Lindsays nails in kindergarten. I was too young to comprehend why something
as mundane as fingernails had suddenly manifested such an overwhelming significance to
me. I couldnt comprehend how anything could frighten me and fascinate me at the same
time. And I had no one to turn to for counsel. Since the advent of the internet, I now
know that there are many others who share my obsession for women with long nails. I no
longer feel like Im a sick, pathetic freak, alone in the world. But as a boy, and for much
of my young-adult life I felt as if I was the keeper of a dirty, shameful secret. I couldnt
ever muster the nerve to tell anyone about it. Guys wouldnt have understood, not even
the guys who dreamed about and lived for big tits. Girls wouldve rejected me as a
pervert, even the girls who religiously cultivated their long nails to make themselves
sexually more attractive.
The summer after kindergarten there were no young girls with long nails in my
neighborhood. The only long nails I saw with regularity that summer were my moms
and my aunts. I felt something decidedly unrewarding about contemplating their nails,
and getting my back scratched by them was less thrilling than it had been just looking at
Lindsays. I reasoned it was because I was certain my mom and aunt would never
purposely scratch me to cause pain the way Lindsay had. Of course I had no idea the
long-nail fascination had a sexual component, and that there was an unconscious taboo in
operation regarding my mother and aunt. That summer was one of the worst, but I lived
in anticipation of the first day of first grade, when I expected to be reunited with Lindsay.
But the county had done some redistricting over the summer, and Lindsay and I were sent
to different schools. Few moments in my life have been as depressing as when I found
that out. I had an overwhelming need to find a girl with nails. Any girl. All that mattered
was that she have long nails. I think that moment crystallized for me that the nails
came before the girl, and always would. It was that moment that redefined my
fascination as a fetish, although neither word was yet in my vocabulary.
Sitting in my first-grade homeroom my eyes were like an eagles, darting from one girl to
the next, looking for the white tips of their nails. A couple of them had a sliver of
growth, and probably were decently sharp, but Id been jaded by Lindsays remarkably
long nails, so nothing I saw around me struck a chord. First-graders were confined to
their homeroom all day while the various teachers came in and out, and I anguished over
not being permitted to circulate throughout the entire school in my quest for a long-nailed
girl. I pinned my hopes on lunch and recess, meanwhile I slouched in my seat as the
homeroom teacher began her boring arithmetic lesson. The clock seemed to tick at half-
pace, but finally second period started, which was called Creative Thinking. The teacher
was a very young woman, probably just out of college, with long legs in silk stockings
and high heels that clicked loudly on the tile floor as she walked to the desk and set her
lesson-plan notebook down. She had an hourglass figure and when she bent to get a
piece of chalk from the ledge her ass seemed to roll around inside her tight skirt like a
caged animal. With a swish of her long, yellow-blonde hair she wrote her name on the
blackboard. Miss Summers. My eyes nearly popped out of my head. From the second-
to-last row I could see she had long fingernails. Nearly an inch long, and straight, filed
very nearly to points. They looked like daggers, and cast an even longer and very distinct
shadow on the blackboard. I was smitten.
All the girls in class were in awe of Miss Summers, and all the boys had a crush on her,
but I was completely, madly in love. Her nails made even my moms and aunts seem
short, and put little Lindsays completely to shame. I could not concentrate on anything
but Miss Summers nails in class. One time the entire class was laughing out loud for a
full minute before I realized they were laughing at me. Miss Summers had asked me a
question and I had just sat there like an idiot, staring, my mind off somewhere in a
fantasy land where I imagined Miss Summers slowly scratching my back with her
unbelievable nails. What woke me from my reverie was the sharp clicking of Miss
Summers drumming her nails impatiently on my desk. Red-faced, I swallowed hard and
looked down. I couldnt utter a word. Her nails were just inches away, resting on my
desk in all their long, straight, pointed splendor. Id never been that close to them before,
and they were even more spectacular than I imagined from across the room. "I want you
to stay after class, Gary," she said curtly. The rest of the class guffawed at what they
assumed was my embarrassment, but in reality I was euphoric at the prospect of close-up
one-on-one time with Miss Summers ten dagger-like nails.
When the bell rang and the rest of the class charged out to go to lunch, I remained
contrite at my desk. "Come up here, Gary," Miss Summers said, motioning me with a
sweep of her long-nailed hand. I slipped out of my seat and plodded to the front of the
room. I stood shyly, and Miss Summers patted her hand on her desk to beckon me closer.
When she did, her nails clicked on the formica surface, and I could feel my knees
weaken. I stood near where she was seated behind her desk, and she turned to me with a
concerned frown and said, "Is anything wrong, Gary? At home, maybe? You seem to be
unable to focus in class." I shook my head. "Everythings fine," I answered. "Are you
sure?" she asked, putting her hand on my shoulder, "You know, you can tell me and I can
help." Her voice was syrupy, her eyes blue as the ocean, her smile warm as sunshine. I
nearly twisted my eyes out of their sockets glancing down at her hand. All I could see
was her thumbnail, so long and straight and clear and pointed. "Whatever it is, Im here
to listen," she said very softly, bringing her face very close to mine, and she slipped her
hand down my back and gently scratched it. The sound of her nails on my shirt testified
to their supreme sharpness, and the feeling was electric. If only I could have told her my
secret. Silently I prayed to myself, "No! Dont stop scratching my back! Touch my arm!
Stroke me with your nails Miss Summers!" But alas, my prayer was not answered. Miss
Summers ruffled my hair and said, "Well, hopefully tomorrow youll be more attentive in
class." I nodded and turned away, utterly dejected I had to leave.
I struggled to pay attention in her class from then on, but it was a battle I was destined to
lose. My obsession with Miss Summers long fingernails was stronger than my will. I
resigned myself that I would only ever be able to look at her nails but never feel them
again, and that helped me keep my daydreaming to a minimum. One day Miss Summers
said each of us had to do a tracing of our hands on a piece of paper, then she would
distribute them randomly and wed have to guess whose hands they were, and tell why
we thought so. It was some kind of exercise in Creative Thinking, but Ill be damned if I
get it even now. I dont know what made me suddenly break out of my shyness, but as
she walked by my desk and collected my tracing, I asked, "Arent you going to do one,
Miss Summers?" She laughed a girlish giggle. "I think mine would be too easy to guess,
dont you?" she asked, holding up her hands and wiggling her long-nailed fingers. I
dont know why it struck me that she was as aware of how unusually long her nails were
as I was. I guess I didnt think anyone else paid attention to nails except me. Stupid, I
know. But at the end of class a strange and wondrous thing happened. Just as I was
getting up, Miss Summers asked me to wait a moment. When everyone else had left, she
laid a piece of paper on my desk, and sat down. She then placed both her hands flat on
the paper. "Gary, Id like you to trace my hands for me," she said. I looked at her ten
long, straight dagger-pointed nails resting before me, and I could feel myself tingle from
head to toe. My hands were trembling as I picked up my pencil and placed it beside the
heel of her left hand. "Take your time and do a careful and perfect job," Miss Summers
said. I took a deep breath and very slowly began to trace along her pinkie. When I got
to her fingertip I looked up nervously, and she smiled warmly and nodded, "Thats good.
Keep going, all the way to the end of my nail, and around." Very carefully I traced the
pencil point along the length of her nail, over the pointed tip, and back toward her finger.
"Youre doing a great job," she said cheerfully. With painstaking care I proceeded to
trace around the rest of her fingers and long, straight fingernails, and finally around her
thumb and amazing thumbnail. "I wouldnt want you to miss lunch on my account,
Gary," Miss Summers said earnestly, "So if you want to stop and not do my other hand,
Ill understand." "No! Ill do both hands!" I said quickly. Miss Summers flashed me a
contented smile, "Well, ok. If you insist." Slowly and fastidiously I traced around her
right hand, savoring every moment of close proximity, scrutinizing, memorizing every
subtle feature of her amazing long nails. When I finished and she stood, I handed her the
tracing, but she turned and laid it back on my desk and took the pencil and signed it For
Gary from Miss Summers. "Ill keep it forever!" I said, giddy with happiness. "That
would be sweet," she said, and she gave me a soft peck on the cheek and a gentle back-
scratch. Indeed I still have that tracing, in fact years later I photocopied it and put the
original in my safe. Of all the magazines and pictures I kept hidden under my bed
growing up, my favorite was that tracing of Miss Summers hands, carefully done at her
request, that shows the outline of all ten of her long, straight dagger-like fingernails.
( to be continued…..)
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Part 3
Long Nails Journey Into Night (Part 3) … by Gary B.
By the time first grade ended I realized I was vastly different from the rest. Other boys
were into sports and action figures and video games and whatever the newest toy on the
market. I barely took notice of those things, which made me an instant outcast. My
interest was singular: girls with long fingernails. Everywhere I went was a hunt. When
my mom would take me along shopping, if I saw a girl or young woman with long nails I
would follow her around the store, trying to grab as much eye-time as I could without
being detected. I wasnt very good at stealth, but most of my "targets" were teenaged
girls or young women accustomed to being ogled, and they thought it was cute that a
little boy was making eyes at them. At least they didnt feel threatened. Young girls
my age were a bit different in that respect, but those with nails long enough to capture my
attention for more than a second or two were few and far between. Which is why I
remember those occasions with clarity so many years later.
In June right after first grade ended, my parents thought it would be educational to take
us on a trip to Washington, DC. I was not looking forward to it, and for the most part it
was as dry and boring as I had feared. After a week of being herded through historical
sites listening to guides recite their memorized monologues, I was exhausted and cranky
and just wanted to go home. On the last day, we visited the Smithsonian, which I fully
expected to be the most tedious of all. There were tons of people there, mostly families
with children. In front of one exhibit which I no longer recall, I was touching that thick,
dark red velveteen rope suspended between shiny steel stantions. The rope was soft and
felt nice, and I was halfway zoning out. Suddenly I felt the rope jiggle, and my mind
came back to earth. When I looked to my right, there was a pretty girl about my age with
long brown hair standing there also touching the rope. We glanced at each other for a
split second, and then my eyes went instinctively to her hands. She had very long
fingernails! I felt a shock wave, and as if every hair on my scalp was standing on end.
She stood there with all her fingers resting on the rope, giving me the opportunity to stare
undisturbed while her attention was focused on the exhibit. Her nails had to have been at
least a half inch long, and were beautifully contrasted against the dark red of the rope.
Idly she began digging her nails into the rope, and my heart started to pound. Oh how I
wished I my arm could be that rope! The girls family finished looking at that exhibit
and urged her to follow them. I felt a profound and hopeless sense of dejection as she
began to move away. But as she did, she curled her fingers and scratched her long
fingernails slowly along the rope, leaving a trail of furrows in the nap of the velvet while
glancing back at me with a sort of sly smirk. I felt my knees start to shake, and they
nearly buckled under. I dragged my parents in tow, following after her to every exhibit.
At each one I stood next to her while she played with the velvet ropes with those long,
long nails of hers until her parents insisted they move along. At each new exhibit the girl
upped the ante a little, clawing and digging a little harder. At the final exhibit I was
wishing it would never end, and something emboldened me to slide my hand along the
rope until the heel of my right hand was just a fraction of an inch from the heel of her left
hand. We didnt say a word, or even look at each other, but there mustve been telepathy
because she looked around quickly to be sure her parents werent looking, and then she
slowly scratched her nails across the back of my hand. She did it lightly, but her nails
were very sharp and they left thin white lines. Giving me the same sly smirk, she clicked
her thumbnail in succession against the other four, and then she left with her family. The
marks her nails left on my hand turned deep pink, and didnt fade out until the next day.
I didnt sleep that night, I just kept looking at those scratches. It was one of the best
nights of my life, and whenever I hear or read anything mentioning the Smithsonian, I
can see that girls beautiful long fingernails and feel them on the back of my right hand.
That August my family went down to the shore for a huge family reunion. My aunt, who
is my moms younger sister, and her husband and their twin toddler boys lived near us,
but my mom hardly ever got to see her two older sisters, or any of her horde of cousins.
The family had rented all the beachfront rooms at the Holiday Inn, and we basically took
over like we owned the place, which no doubt pissed off the other vacationers. The adult
male family members took turns manning
a barbecue made from half an oil drum that smoldered continuously on the beach,
churning out an endless supply of hamburgers and hotdogs for the perpetual line of
hungry relatives. The air was filled with the sound of popping beer and soda cans, and
the sky nearly obliterated by seagulls and frisbees. My mom had grown up with her
cousins so they were all friends, but because we all lived so far, none of us kids knew
each other. A beach vacation is an easy place for kids to quickly make friends though, at
least for typical kids. For me, not so much. Most of the kids were either a few years
older or younger than me. The older ones wanted to do water sports or play volleyball,
while the younger ones were content to play in the sand and splash in the ocean at the
waters edge. I wasnt much interested in any of that, and found myself wandering
aimlessly along the beach. I would pick up pieces of sea shells resembling long
fingernails, close my eyes and poke and scrape them on myself pretending a girl was
scratching me.
One morning I was sitting on the beach sifting through a pile of shells when a shadow fell
over me, and I glanced forward and saw a pair of small feet sunk into the wet sand. I
looked up, and standing over me was a girl-a very pretty girl, wearing a black one-piece
swim suit with little yellow ducks printed on it, her very long baby-fine reddish-brown
hair wafting lightly in the gentle sea breeze. After having been forced to introduce
myself to countless cousins Id never met before, I was becoming less shy about meeting
new people, so I said a cheerful, "Hi, Im Gary." She just stood there with her arms
folded behind her, turning slightly from side to side nervously and scrunching her feet
deeper into the sand. Remembering how my mom had taught me, I asked politely, "And
whats your name?" "Michelle," she replied shyly. "Im eight. How old are you?" I
asked. Michelle held both hands up with palms out, seven fingers extended, one pinkie
and both thumbs folded. I went numb. She had nails! Even now I can close my eyes and
remember exactly what they looked like. Most of them were about a quarter-inch, except
both pinkies were close to a half-inch, and her right pointer was only about a sixteenth-
inch; all her nails still had more or less the straight edges from whenever was the last
time they were cut, though her right thumbnail was slightly, asymmetrically rounded
probably from wear, and half the length of the left.
"Do you want to play with me?" Michelle asked, shielding her eyes from the blinding sun
with her hands. Staring dumbstruck at her nails I nodded rapidly. "Ok, lets go," she said
reaching for my hand with her fingers spread. For a split instant I found myself
wondering if Id feel the prick of her long fingernails. Hoping for it, in fact. But she
only took my hand gently, and began leading me up the beach. After a few minutes
Michelle pointed at a woman some distance away sunning herself on a blanket next to a
picnic cooler and said, "My mommy made Kool-Aid. Im thirsty. Are you? You can
have some!" "Great!" I said. I happened to turn toward her, and the way she was smiling
and looking at me, one could imagine little red hearts floating up from her eyes. I was at
that stage when most boys thought girls were "yucky", but Michelles face was pretty
enough she couldve vanquished any boys defenses. And with her having long
fingernails, I had no defenses whatsoever. When we stood in front of her mother, still
holding hands, Michelle reached up with her other and warmly grasped my upper arm, at
the same time resting her head against my shoulder. "Hi Mommy this is Gary hes my
boyfriend!" she announced proudly.
Michelles mom bit her lip to keep from laughing, and in her most respectful and serious
manner said, "Thats wonderful! Im so pleased to meet you, Gary. Would you like some
Kool-Aid?" "Yes thank you maam," I replied using my best manners. "My, what a
polite young man!" her mom said, and aside to her daughter, "Hes a keeper!" Her mom
opened the cooler and poured two large, clear plastic cups three-fourths full with red
Kool-Aid, and handed them to us. Michelle took hers with both hands, and as she let go
of my arm I felt her nails trail lightly against my skin. It was an indescribably wonderful
moment. Michelle gulped her drink quickly, and handed the cup back to her mother. Her
mom looked at Michelles hands and began to rummage in her beach bag and said, "Tsk,
tsk. What do you say we cut your fingernails, ok?" "No!" Michelle snapped, quickly
making fists and whipping her hands behind her back protectively as she stepped back
out of her mothers reach. "Just a little trim," her mom assured, as she produced a nail
clipper from her bag. "Noooooo! You promised I didnt have to cut them at all until we
get back home!" Michelle whined, her voice starting to break. "I know I promised
sweetie, but I didnt think they would grow this fast," her mom explained. "You
promised! You promised!" Michelle screamed and she began to cry. "I bet Gary would
like them much better if they were nice and neat like a little girls nails should be," her
mom offered. I prayed she wouldnt ask me to affirm that, because I was taught to
respect my elders and yet I was even more upset than Michelle at the thought of her long
nails being chopped off. But Michelle took the initiative and exclaimed defiantly, "No!
He wouldnt! He likes my nails like this! He likes them long!" and she turned to me
with a look of desperation and implored, "Dont you!" I remember Michelles mom
laughing and saying, "Gary, you can stop nodding your head, before it falls off. Ok,
Michelle, you can keep your nails until we get back home." Michelle squealed with joy,
and she grabbed my hand and pulled me running down the beach. "Im taking you to my
secret place. Nobody else knows about it and you have to promise not to tell anyone,"
she said. "I wont," I said. "Promise!" she insisted. "I promise," I said. "Pinkie swear,"
she said, holding out her little finger. Her long, thin nail with its perfectly-straight edge
seemed to glow in the sunlight, and I could feel my heart pound faster and faster as I
placed my pinkie against hers and she pressed back.
Michelle grasped my hand again and pulled me onward. After a while we came to a wide
expanse of beach, and wedged against a little sand hill was a small wooden cabin boat that
judging by its weathered appearance had been abandoned for years. Michelle scampered
up the rudder and onto the deck. "Come on!" she said impatiently. I attempted to climb
up as she had, but got my foot stuck behind the rudder. Michelle sighed, and she leaned
over the deck rail and grabbed hold of my arm and began to pull me. With my foot stuck
I was off-balance and fell backward, and her nails made long scratches on my arm.
"Oopsie!" she gasped, and the look on her face was one of true shock at what shed done.
I managed to free my foot and continue climbing into the abandoned little boat.
Michelle immediately took my arm and gently ran her fingertips over the red marks and
looked with concern. "Its ok, it doesnt hurt," I offered. (It did hurt, but it was
definitely ok.) Still holding my arm, Michelle put her lips on the deepest scratch and
kissed it. "Does that make it feel better?" she asked hopefully. I remember her parroting
her mothers exact words, "Gary, you can stop nodding your head, before it falls off."
Michelle led me down into the cabin. There was no furniture or chairs, just an old
tattered vinyl cushion on the floor, and Michelle brushed off some sand from it and we
sat down facing each other with our legs folded. "I always pretend Im a princess sailing
around the world to magical places," she told me, and with hesitancy in her voice asked,
"Do you want to be a prince?" I shrugged. Actually it sounded really lame, but she was
so pretty, and those nails… "Boys never want to play prince and princess," she sighed
sadly. "I do," I said. Michelle gave me that lovestruck look again, and sidled up to me.
She rested her cheek against my shoulder, and I felt her fine, soft hair on my arm. She
smelled of soap and sunshine. She stretched her legs out and so did I, then she wiggled
her toes and giggled. I wiggled mine, but felt a sharp prick in the bottom of my foot. I
pulled it up to have a look, and there was a large splinter. I started to pick at it, but ended
up just pushing it in making it hurt more. "I can get it out for you," Michelle said.
"How?" I asked, having had no luck myself. "I have long fingernails, remember?" she
said flexing her fingers. As if I could forget for even a moment. "I got a splinter
yesterday and got it out with my nails easy," she said, already holding my ankle in one
hand. She tried pinching the splinter between her thumbnail and pointer, but couldnt get
a grip. "This one broke off when I was opening a can of juice," she lamented, holding up
her right pointer with its sixteenth-inch nail, "Its already growing back but Ill have to
use another one." "Ok," I said. She tried using her middle fingernail, and then her ring
fingernail, but the splinter was in too deep. "Rats!" she said. "Its ok, my mom will get
it out later," I told her. "Ill do it!" Michelle insisted stubbornly, and started picking at
the skin around the splinter with her pinkie nail. "Ouch!" I cried. "Hold still!" she
barked, gripping my ankle tighter. "Youre hurting me!" I screamed. "There! I got it!
See?" she announced, holding the splinter between her thumbnail and middle nail, up
close to my face, "arent you glad my mom didnt cut my nails?" I was indeed much
more than glad, but I just nodded. "Funny, it still hurts," I mentioned. Still gripping my
ankle, Michelle tenderly kissed the spot on my sole where the splinter had been, and gave
me her lovestruck look again, and then took her place next to me and rested her cheek
against my shoulder as she had before.
Michelle sat next to me on the right, leaning against me, rocking us gently side to side,
pretending we were sailing on the waves. She yawned and stretched her arms out in
front, slowly turning her hands and curling and uncurling her fingers. My heart was
pounding as I stared fascinated at her long fingernails, but I pretended to be oblivious.
From nowhere she rested her right hand on my tummy and gently began scribbling with
her nails. I thought my heart was going to explode, and I whined a little. "Do my nails
tickle?" Michelle asked with a giggle. I shook my head. "Im ticklish there," she
remarked. "Its, um…" I began, but she reached her left hand behind me and started
making long strokes with her nails on my back, and I lost the ability to speak. "I love it
when my mommy does it to me. Now that I have nails, I can do it to someone else," she
said happily, "Doesnt it feel great!" I nodded furiously, still unable to utter a syllable.
Michelle rose up on her knees, straddled my lap, sat down, and started scratching my
back with both hands. Suddenly, she leaned forward and kissed me straight on the lips.
"What did you do that for?" I asked with alarm as she puckered her lips for another one,
and I put my hands in front of my face defensively. Michelle brushed my hands aside
and kissed me again, then started peppering my face with kisses. "Stop it!" I said,
covering my face with my arms. "Let me kiss you!" she demanded. "No!" I retorted.
"Yes I am!" she exclaimed. "Are not!" I said. "Am too!" she said. We started
struggling, me trying to block her advances, and her puckering her lips and trying to
deflect my arms. Soon she was totally carried away and began using her nails. Without
the least regard for their sharpness, she dug them into my arms and pulled mightily, and
in the course of our mutual flailing, scratched me many times. I hadnt been scratched
hard since kindergarten, and had almost forgotten the euphoric thrill it gave me. When
Michelle seemed to tire, I let her kiss me just so she wouldnt give up trying, and then
started to struggle again so shed scratch me. I held my hands tightly over my mouth
until shed clawed them repeatedly, each time harder and harder, then finally gave in and
let her kiss me. Eventually she was exhausted, and bored. Her eyes popped when she
noticed what shed done to me. "Youre bleeding," she gasped. "Its ok, I dont care," I
said. Michelle stared with shock at her nails, and at what theyd done. "Havent you
ever scratched anybody before?" I asked. She shook her head. "I only just started letting
my nails grow a few weeks ago," she said, "And anyway I have to cut them as soon as
we go back home." "Thats too bad," I said. "Yeah, I really like them," she sighed. "Me
too," I said. "Maybe you can get your mom to let you keep them," I offered hopefully.
"She says Im too young," Michelle lamented. "Youre not! There was this girl when I
was in kindergarten who had really long nails," I told her. "Mommy says little girls
nails should be neat and short," Michelle said. "Maybe if you cry really hard?" I
suggested. Michelles face lit up and she said, "Maybe! And tell her I miss my daddy!
Theyre divorced. I always get my way if I say that." "I hope it works coz I really love
your nails," I said. "Me too," she said. Michelle walked her fingers slowly up my arm,
indenting her fingernails firmly with each step. "Want to see how hard I can scratch?"
she asked. I just nodded, furiously, as though my head was about to fall off.
(…to be continued)
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Part 4
Long Nails Journey Into Night (Part 4) … by Gary B.
As a boy obsessed with girls long nails, I spent most of my time in the pursuit of
"sightings". Necessarily then, most of my time was spent hanging around girls. It made
me very popular with them, because they liked having a boy to boss around. But at the
same time, it made me very un-popular with the other boys, who called me a mommas
boy, a sissy, a wimp and a host of other names. They also derided me because I
frequently bore the unmistakable scratch marks from girls fingernails, but those taunts
didnt bother me in the least!
In truth, it was rare during my elementary school years that I saw a girl my age with nails
longer than just past the fingertip. Most of my "sightings" were older girls, and had to
suffice with nothing more than observation, which I found very frustrating. It seemed
that girls began en-masse to let their nails grow long, even if only for brief, experimental
purposes, around the age of twelve or thirteen, and I desperately wished there was
something I could do to fast-forward myself to that age. One of the most agonizingly-
frustrating experiences I had was when my parents hired their friends 13 year-old
daughter to babysit me on Saturday nights. Ellen had very long, dagger-straight nails
which were always polished a frosty pink, but no matter how I tried to get her to use them
on me, she never once would. I begged her for back-scratches, I pulled her hair, I
grabbed her homework hoping shed accidentally scratch me grabbing for it. It made her
angry enough to cry and hurl her hardcover math text book at me full force, but not
scratch me with her nails. I was relieved when she told my parents she wouldnt babysit
me again, because being that close to her beautiful nails without feeling them on me was
akin to torture. Several other times throughout my boyhood I discovered to my dismay
that not all girls with long fingernails used them as weapons, in fact a good number of
them it just didnt cross their minds. For them, their long nails were a girly beauty
accessory, for display purposes only. Even those who did recognize their nails made
excellent weapons, many were afraid to scratch somebody, either because they couldnt
bring themselves to cause that much pain and draw blood, or because they were afraid of
the consequences if they did, or in a few cases, just afraid of breaking their nails. I didnt
know which girls would use their nails and which wouldnt, so I provoked them all.
Some of them just cried, but others responded in other ways girls defend themselves,
such as a face-slap, a swift kick in the shins or a knee to the groin!
But fortunately there were exceptions. One such was Natalie who lived on the next
block. Her house was directly behind mine, backing up to an alley where the garages
were. Natalie was 7, a year younger than me, blond, tiny…but with a serious mean-
streak. I met Natalie the first time when I was taking out the trash from the garage and
setting it alongside the alley for the truck that came every Wednesday. Natalie grabbed
one of the plastic bags full of trash I was holding and ripped it open, spilling the contents
on the ground. Laughing, she tore the second bag open too. She stood there with an evil
grin, curling her fingers, which is when I noticed her fingernails were very long,
somewhere between a quarter and a half-inch but obviously uncared-for and with black
dirt underneath them. Still, I was mesmerized by them, but when she reached for the
third trash bag I suddenly thought how mad my mom would be about the mess in the
alley, and I grabbed Natalies arm and screamed, "Dont!" Natalie stopped laughing and
scowled angrily at me, and she clenched her long, filthy nails into my hand full-force and
raked them all the way up my arm. I stood there frozen as the scratches began to bleed.
"You need to wash with soap or else you might get an affection," she said with scholarly
confidence. "You mean infection," I corrected her. "No I dont!" she insisted
stubbornly. "Affection is when you like somebody," I explained. "No its not, and
anyway I hate you," she said, turning quickly and running back to her house. I watched
her blond hair bouncing against her back as she ran, then stared at the claw marks on my
hand and arm. I felt like I was floating on a cloud. Id found a long-nailed little vixen
with a hot temper and I was in puppy-love, again. I got some new trash bags from the
garage and cleaned up the alley, and then I went inside and washed the scratches with
soap like Natalie had advised.
In school, if she saw me in the hallway, Natalie would turn her head and ignore me.
Remembering how she did it with quite a theatrical flair, Im sure she actually had a
crush on me too, although mine was based entirely on the fact she had nails and that
using them as weapons came naturally to her. One day on the way home from school I
strode up next to her and walked alongside her for a while. She had her hands at her
sides, and I stared down at her nails. They were always dirty, and always different
lengths and the tips were sometimes at odd angles from breakage, but nonetheless I was
magnetized to them. She pretended to ignore me, so I yanked her blond ponytail just
hard enough to elicit an "Ow!" and stood with my thumbs in my ears wiggling my fingers
and sticking out my tongue, hoping to provoke her temper. But instead of making a grab
at me as I hoped, Natalie stopped in her tracks and looked me pitifully in the eyes. Her
lip began to quiver, and she started to cry. I suddenly felt guilty for what Id done, and I
said I was sorry. But she wouldnt stop crying, so I stood in front of her and put my
hands on her shoulders and kept saying, "Dont cry, Natalie. Im sorry I pulled your hair.
Please dont cry." Suddenly her forlorn expression transformed into an evil grin and both
her hands shot up under my short shirtsleeves and she raked my arms hard and fast with
her sharp, scraggly long fingernails. Swooning with pain, watching the long scratches on
my arms start to bleed, I mentally added "devious" to the things about Natalie that made
me enamored with her. "I hate you," she said with a satisfied sigh and grin. I expected
her to turn smartly and walk away, but she just stood there until I began to walk, and she
tagged alongside me all the way home.
On a Saturday morning I was out in the garage getting my bike, and I looked across the
alley and Natalies garage was open and I saw her there. I shouted to her, "Hey, Natalie!
Do you want to ride bikes with me?" She shook her head. "Is it because you hate me?" I
asked. "No," she said, then reconsidering, "Well, I do hate you. But Ive got stuff to do
in my garden." "Youve got a garden?" I asked. She nodded, "Want to see?" "Ok," I
said. I didnt care whether we rode bikes, I just wanted to be close to Natalies nails. So
I trotted across the alley and through her garage into her back yard, much of which was
roped off and divided into neat little rows with leafy things sprouting from them. "Im
planting carrots today," Natalie announced, holding up a packet of seeds, "Youre
allowed to help." I followed her into the garden, and squatted down next to her. She
handed me the seed packet and said, "Here, hold this." She held my hand with hers while
she tore open the seed packet, and her warm touch and the close sight of her long nails
made my hands tremble. "Be careful, stupid! Youre going to spill them!" Natalie
snapped. I took a deep breath and willed myself steady. Then she proceeded to poke her
finger all the way into the dirt, making a little post-hole, and very daintily inserted her
thumb and finger into the seed packet and pinched a few seeds, which she then dropped
into the hole. She clawed up a handful of dirt and patted it down over the hole, then went
on to poke another hole a few inches from the first. Finally I understood why there was
always dirt underneath her long fingernails. She was barefoot, and I couldnt help look at
her feet. Her toenails also were sort of long and unkempt, with dirt under them as well.
"What are you looking at?" she asked defensively. "Nothing," I said. "I hate cutting my
nails, so I never cut them," she said very matter-of-factly, assuming thats what I had
been looking at. I could feel my face get hot, and imagined it must be red as a beet. I
didnt want her to know I was obsessed with her nails. "Oh…yeah, really? Why?" I
asked, trying to act blasI. "You know why," she said grinning, "You know I scratch like
a cat. I scratched you lots of times. My nails made you bleed. Dont you hate me?" I
couldnt speak, I just shook my head. "Why not?" she asked. I shrugged. "Everyone
else I scratch hates me," she said. "Well, I dont," I insisted. Without warning, Natalie
reached down and grabbed my leg with her fingernails, and kept repeating, "Do you hate
me now?" as each time she squeezed her nails deeper, until she was using all her strength.
And each time I answered, "No!" Still digging into my leg, she reached over with her
other hand and scratched the underneath of my wrist with her nails. "Hate me now?" she
asked. I shook my head. Natalie pinched the back of my hand with her thumbnail and
fingernails and twisted the skin. "Ill never hate you!" I screamed. She let go and looked
down at the five bruised cuts shed made on my leg, and the four bleeding scratches
under my wrist, and the purple, bloody mass of raw skin on the back of my hand.
"Youre weird!" she exclaimed.
I have no idea what force possessed me at that moment, that overcame my painful
shyness, but I leaned over and kissed her rosy little cheek. Natalie touched her hand to
the spot Id kissed and then examined her palm as if she expected to find something
nasty. She looked at me for a long, silent moment. I couldnt tell what she was thinking,
if she was shocked or confused or…and then without a word she reached up and clawed
my entire face from forehead to chin with her long, sharp, dirt-crusted fingernails.
(…to be continued)
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Part 5
Long Nails Journey Into Night (Part 5) … by Gary B.
My little neighbor Natalie unknowingly imparted me with some essential insights into the
complexities of my nail obsession. The first was that there was some as-yet mysterious
connection between girls with long nails, and kissing. Earlier on, Michelle, the girl with
long nails I met at the beach during summer vacation, had kissed me. But she had been
the aggressor and I the somewhat reluctant recipient. With Natalie, a sudden and
compulsive urge had come over me, and it was I who made the advance. She had
responded by raking my face with her long fingernails to signify her displeasure, but
because of my obsession with her nails it had left me thoroughly and completely
infatuated with her…and given me the perfect means to get myself scratched any time I
wanted. Many more attempted kisses ensued, followed by many more incensed
scratchings.
The second insight I gleaned from Natalie was that girls can go from hating a boy to
loving him in a split-second, and for a nail-guy like me it isnt necessarily the triumphant
breakthrough it is for "normal" guys. One day when I tried to kiss Natalie, she let me.
In fact, she kissed back. That wasnt a problem, in fact it was fine with me. The
problem was that afterward she looked at me with her big, blue eyes, told me she loved
me, and hugged me. Instead of scratching me. From then on, any attempt at angering
her resulted in hurt feelings and tears rather than a clawing from her long nails. I had to
content myself with the occasional accidental scratch while we wrestled for a toy, or
when she tried to struggle while I tickled her. My infatuation with her had started to
wane though.
In the fall I started 3rd grade and Natalie started 2nd. After dinner I went out back to the
alley hoping to find Natalie puttering in her garden, but she wasnt there so I stood
around tossing a tennis ball at the side of our garage and catching it with my baseball
mitt. I could hear what sort of sounded like "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" being played
slowly and haltingly on a piano, often hitting a sour note and then repeating, for about a
half-hour, until I heard Natalie screaming, "I dont want to practice any more! I want to
play outside!" and then the slamming of her screen door. I couldnt see Natalie, but her
mother was standing on the back stoop shouting, "You get back inside this instant young
lady!" and heard Natalie scream, "No! I wont! You cant make me!". Her mother
followed with, "Well see about that when your father gets home!" and Natalie with, "I
hate you!" In a few moments she came meandering out to the alley, arms folded, head
bowed, and an angry scowl on her face. "I hate her!" she muttered. "Whats wrong?" I
asked. "My mommys a horrible meanie!" she said kicking up the dirt with her bare feet,
"Shes making me take piano lessons and I have to stay inside and practice every night."
"Youre pretty good," I said trying to make her feel better. "Really?" she asked. "Yeah,"
I said, and she smiled. "Want me to play catch with you?" she asked. "Sure," I said and
tossed her the tennis ball. She caught it with both hands, and I felt like a truckload of
bricks had fallen on me. Her long fingernails were gone, dirt and all. She saw me
staring, and she dropped the ball and shoved her hands in her pockets. "My piano teacher
said you cant play with long fingernails," Natalie said quietly, "So I had to cut them all
off." Looking down at the ground and shuffling her bare feet she said, "My toenails are
longer than my fingernails now." Ill never forget the startled and confused look on her
face the moment our eyes met, and how her look quickly turned to crushed and
devastated. She knew my feelings for her had vanished, and I believe she knew why, but
she just couldnt comprehend it. Neither could I, but I knew it was my nature, and
nothing I would ever be able to do about it. That was the biggest, and final insight
Natalie gave me.
I stopped trying to kiss her, and I could tell she was hurt, but for a while she hung around
me, trying just to be my pal. Id see a little growth on her nails and I could feel the
energy, the hope. I recalled the way Id felt about her when she had long nails, and
especially when she used to scratch me. But then shed cut them, and my hopes would
evaporate. There was a girl in school named Marnie who had sort of longish nails, and I
gravitated to her. Actually her nails were just past her fingertips, but she filed them to a
rounded "V" and painted them with clear polish, plus she had long nailbeds and so her
nails looked longer than they were. Once we were joking around and she swatted at me
playfully and her nails grazed my arm and left stinging red marks, so I knew they were
pretty sharp. She didnt have Natalies hot temper though, and definitely didnt think of
her nails as weapons. But those were desperate times for a budding nail-guy like me, and
Marnie liked me…so, we became "an item". Natalie saw us walking home from school
together, and stopped talking to me after that.
Through the rest of elementary school, I didnt run across any other girls with the kind of
long nails I craved. Mostly I met girls like Marnie, who liked their nails to "look pretty",
which meant just a little past the fingertips, nicely filed, and shiny. Colored polish wasnt
allowed in school, but on weekends sometimes they would paint their nails. I never
really cared for painted nails anyway, I liked seeing the length of the white part. Id see
girls in junior high who had much longer nails, and I lived for the future. Finally it came.
My first day of 7th grade, a new school, a bigger school, with lots of girls I hadnt known
before. I felt like Id been paroled from penitentiary, from the prison that is childhood.
Whatever it is other kids had on their minds the first day of junior high, my focus was
singular: nails. But like most childhood preconceptions, mine turned out to be wildly
optimistic. The girls in 7th grade were but a few months older than theyd been when 6th
grade ended, and hadnt undergone a mass metamorphosis into long-nailed dragon-ladies.
Their nails were pretty much the same length as before. The really long-nailed girls, few
and far-between, were in 8th, but mostly 9th grade, and wanted absolutely nothing to do
with a 7th grade boy. I hadnt been paroled, Id been sent to maximum-security and
thrown into solitary confinement!
No, make that hell. What I hadnt counted on at all was that 7th grade boys werent of
interest to 7th grade girls either. They went rubber-kneed over the older boys, especially
the ones who were tall and muscular and had deepening voices and were sprouting facial
hair. And naturally, my obsession led me to fall for the most unavailable 7th grade girl in
the school. Her name was Kimberly. I dont know if her parents let her out of the house
looking as she did, or if on her way to school she spun around like Diana Prince and
transformed into Wonder Woman, but at barely 13 Kimberly could easily have passed for
25. In fact the first time I saw her I thought she was a teacher. She wore tight sweaters,
short skirts and shoes with heels that put her half a head taller than me. She wore full
makeup: thick mascara, dark eyeliner, blue eye shadow, rosy blush, and red lipstick. Her
hair was dyed blond and professionally styled, and she had ten, perfectly-even three-
quarter-inch long fingernails, carefully manicured with rounded ends, and coated with
glossy clear polish. Kimberly conducted herself with the aloof entitlement of someone
aware of her allure and confident of her status. She ignored anyone she felt was beneath
her…which was almost everyone…and when she did deign to acknowledge someone,
rather than look them in the eye when they spoke to her, she would yawn, take a file from
her ever-present purse and do a touch-up-and-admire on her long fingernails. In short,
Kimberly was a natural-born diva. And I was head over heels for her, because of her
amazingly long and beautiful nails.
There was nothing I didnt do to try getting Kimberlys attention. When my charm was
brusquely ignored, I did what any red-blooded 7th grade boy would do: I acted like a
total ass. Knocked her books out of her hands, messed up her perfectly-styled hair, things
like that. The first couple times she just shoved me aside with a look of disgust, but I
persisted, and the next time she kicked me in the shin. She wore pointy-toed shoes and it
hurt like hell, and not the kind of hurt I enjoyed. She was flabbergasted when that didnt
deter me, and when I put a wad of wet paper towel down the back of her blouse,
Kimberly screamed and she spun around quickly and slapped me full-force across the
face. She slapped me so hard it stunned me numb for a few seconds, but then my face
began to feel like it was on fire. I expected her to turn her nose up and walk away as
usual, but she just stood there with one hand over her mouth, her heavily-made-up eyes
wide with a horror, looking back and forth between me and the hand shed slapped me
with. "Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod!" she gasped, "Ohmygod! Im sorry! Im sorry! I
didnt mean to!" "Its ok, I deserved it," I said. "No, well, yes, you deserved to get
slapped. But I really didnt mean to do THAT," she said. "Huh?" I asked. "I didnt
mean to get you with my nails!" she said. I put my hand up to my throbbing cheek and
felt wetness, then when I looked in my palm there was blood. "Cmon, you have to go to
the nurse!" Kimberly pleaded, taking my arm and pulling me along. "Its ok, Im
alright," I said. "No, youre not!" she cried, and she fished in her purse for her powder
compact and showed me myself in the mirror. I was shocked. Mind you, Id been
scratched hundreds of times, including my face, but they were always thin lines that
scabbed over quickly and healed in few weeks at most. I wasnt expecting what I saw,
four deep, open cuts from my temple to the corner of my mouth.
The school nurse said it looked worse than it was and wouldnt need stitches, just some
iodine and one small butterfly closure. She said odds were I wouldnt have any
permanent scars. Kimberly kept apologizing, but the nurse harumphed at the sight of
Kimberlys provocative appearance and three-quarter-inch long fingernails and said she
was going to report her to the principal and have her parents come to school. Kimberlys
smug aloofness was nowhere to be seen, and as she wept softly, her black mascara and
eyeliner ran down her cheeks making her look like Alice Cooper. "It was my fault! I
made her do it!" I said to the nurse. "Makes no difference, those nails are dangerous and
totally inappropriate for school," the nurse said. "Ill swear to the principal she didnt do
it," I insisted, "Ill say…um...Ill say I scraped myself on the fence outside!" The nurse
made a face and sighed. "Teenage love," she muttered with disdain, "Go on, get out of
here, both of you." As we left the nurses office, Kimberly said quietly, "Thanks for
lying for me." "I wasnt really lying. It was my fault," I said. "I spent all summer
growing my nails, and I wouldve died if they made me cut them. I really love them,"
she said. "Me too…I mean, theyre really cool," I said. She smiled. "Well, I better get
going," she said. "Yeah…wait, your makeup is all messed up," I said. Kimberly
snatched her compact from her purse and gasped in horror at what she saw. "Ohmygod!
Thanks for telling me. I wouldve died if I went to class like this," she said. She sat on a
hall bench and took out a Kleenex and began wiping her face. "Do you have to put it all
on again?" I asked. "Excuse me? Youre saying I use too much makeup?" she asked
getting slightly defensive. "Huh? No! I meant, couldnt you just fix it up?" I said. "Oh.
No, that wouldnt work," she said beginning to reapply her foundation. "You look great
without any makeup too, though," I said. "Thanks. Youre actually a kind of a nice guy,"
she said with a smile, "By the way, whats your name?" "Gary," I said. "Im Kimberly,"
she said. "Yeah, I know," I said. She smiled. "So…um…Kimberly…um…would you
like to maybe….um…walk home with me after school?" I ventured boldly. "Oh…er…,"
she started, and I could see her eyes dart around, and I knew she was stalling for time
trying to think of how to reject me nicely. "We could stop for ice cream. I think I can eat
soft stuff," I suggested, dabbing my scratched cheek, playing on her guilt for all it was
worth. "Sure, thatd be cool," she said touching my hand warmly. I felt the tips of her
nails on my skin, and I wanted to kiss her. But somehow I had the sense to restrain
myself. "Meet you at the East entrance at 3:45, ok?" I said. Kimberly smiled and
nodded. I watched her walk down the hall, poised in her heels, hands at her sides, her
long nails still noticeable from far down the hall. She was so clearly out of my league,
and yet, Id already gotten her to scratch me…and agree to go out with me! I was on a
roll and couldnt be stopped!
I could barely keep from busting out of my skin the rest of the afternoon, let alone
concentrate on class. Twice I got called-on and had no idea what the question had been.
It seemed like someone had turned the electricity down so the wall clock ran at half-
speed, so slowly did the minutes and hours plod. But finally the last bell rang, and I
ejected from my seat and ran for my locker. I totally ignored all the stares at the four
gashes on my face as I shoved my way through the crowded hall towards the East
entrance. I was desperate not to be even one second late, lest Kimberly think I wasnt
coming and leave without me. I burst outside through the door, looking around
frantically for Kimberly, but she was nowhere to be seen. It suddenly hit me that she
might have had a change of heart. Realized I was unworthy of her company. Decided
not to suffer the embarrassment of being seen in public with a mere 7th grade boy. True, I
would always have the memory (and perhaps the marks) of being scratched by her, but I
knew it wouldnt be enough consolation. I was completely infatuated with her, and of
course, thought it was true love. I leaned back against the brick wall and sighed, then I
took a deep breath and started walking. "Hey!" I heard a girls voice say, and I felt a
sharp poke behind my shoulderblade. I turned around and it was Kimberly. She swept a
few strands of her dyed-blond hair off her face and tucked them behind her ear. The sight
of her perfect three-quarter-inch long fingernails made my heart jump. "You werent
leaving without me, were you?" she asked with a little laugh. She made the question
sound like a joke, but her eyes betrayed some honest suspicion. All the makeup, the
aloofness, it was all a coverup for insecurity. She looked like a grown woman but
underneath she was a vulnerable little 13 year-old girl. Still, its easy to see in hindsight,
but as an even more vulnerable and insecure 13 year-old boy, her cover seemed as
resilient as it was intimidating.
While we walked to the ice cream parlor, Kimberly gradually let her guard down. We
talked about normal stuff, though I admit I probably heard only half of what she said,
because I couldnt shift my attention from her long nails for very long. I discovered she
was really nice, definitely not the bitch she acted like, or the slut people assumed from
her appearance. By the time we got our cones we were running out of things to talk
about, and you cant carry on a conversation and lick an ice cream cone at the same time.
And I definitely couldnt carry on a conversation and watch Kimberly eat an ice cream
cone. First of all, she had her fingers and those fantastic ultra-long nails wrapped around
it. Second, she had the pinkest, cutest tongue, and the most adorable way of slowly
licking around the outside and then wrapping her lips over the ice cream and slowly
pulling them away. I found that incredibly exciting, although I was several years away
from knowing why. At one point a dribble of ice cream cascaded quickly down the side
of the cone, and she caught it with the tip of her nail. The ice cream flowed into the long
trough underneath her nail, and she put her whole finger in her mouth and sucked it clean
with a cute, embarrassed giggle. It had me on the verge of hyperventilating, but again I
didnt know why, other than it involved her long nail. In my mind, the next droplet of
ice cream, I would gently take her hand and put her finger in my own mouth. But of
course I didnt actually do it. After we finished our cones, Kimberly took a pack of
cigarettes out of her purse. "You dont mind, do you?" she asked. "Do your parents
know you smoke?" I asked. "Im pretty sure my mom does, but she pretends not to," she
replied poking her long nail inside the pack, "How about you?" I hesitated. It sounded
like a test, as if the future of our relationship might hang on my answer. "Oh, sure, I
smoke all the time," I lied. "Want one?" she asked offering me a cigarette. "Oh, um…I
dont like menthols," I said, "Thanks anyway." Kimberly lit her cigarette and took a
short puff and blew the smoke out quickly. Mostly she held it between her fingers, which
looked so amazing with her long, long fingernails, and took a few more quick puffs
before snubbing it out. Looking back Im positive she didnt inhale, the cigarettes were
just a prop, like her clothes and makeup, merely affectations of sophistication. We set
off toward home, and I kept trying to gather the nerve to try to hold her hand. Alas I
chickened out. But to my shock and amazement, Kimberly delicately slipped her fingers
between mine and closed them against my hand. I could feel the tips of her ultra-long
nails pressing me, and my legs nearly buckled under. She smiled at me, and we walked
on silently, holding hands.
"This is my house," Kimberly said. "Oh, ok, well…I guess Ill see you around then," I
said with no shortage of disappointment in my voice. "Thanks for the ice cream," she
said. "Youre welcome," I said. We stood there awkwardly for a moment, still holding
hands. "Does your face still hurt?" she asked. "Kind of. A little," I said. "Im really
sorry, again," Kimberly said…and she leaned over and kissed me very lightly on the
scratches. We looked into each others eyes, Kimberly still didnt let go of my hand.
"Would you like to see my room?" she asked. "How bout your parents?" I asked.
Kimberly laughed. "My dad always works really late, and my mom wont be home for a
couple hours," she said. She led me up the steps and unlocked the door, and then led me
straight upstairs. The walls of her room were covered with posters of rock stars, and
there was a dressing table with a mirror and hundreds of little bottles, tubes and jars of
cosmetics and makeup. Kimberly sat on her bed, kicked off her heels and pulled her feet
up. Her toenails were painted red, and I said it was a cool color and asked if she ever
painted her fingernails the same red. "Sometimes. But not for school of course, its
against the rules," she sighed. We agreed school rules sucked. "Does your stereo work?"
I asked. "It works," she said, "But we have to keep it down or we wont hear when my
mom comes home." "Oh. Right, sure," I said, although it was all new to me. Kimberly
slipped off the bed, closed and locked the door, and pulled the window shade down so
only a little light crept in. She turned on the stereo softly and came back and sat on the
bed, very close to me. She put her chin on my shoulder, and her warm breath on my
neck, with the scent of cigarette and perfumed lip-gloss, made me at once excited and
panicked. I had no idea what was to be expected of me, and a deathly fear of comiting
some embarrassing faux-pas. But biology overtook bashfulness, and I turned my head
just slightly toward her, which was evidently just enough. Ive heard plenty of funny
anecdotes about first "real" kisses, but mine was indescribably amazing. Kimberlys lips
were buttery-soft, sweet and warm. Her kiss was tender and gentle at first, very, very
gradually growing stronger. I had a momentary twinge of panic when I felt her tongue
slip between my lips, but accepting it into my mouth came quite naturally. But the best
part of all, while we kissed Kimberly stroked the back of my neck leisurely with her left-
hand nails, and with her right ran her fingers through the hair on top of my head and very,
very slowly strummed her long thumbnail back and forth across my forehead.
I know that had everything else been the same except the girl had short nails, that first
kiss would still have been memorable, but for me, with my obsession, the mere presence
of long fingernails, nevermind the touch, put me into orbit. Suddenly Kimberly
whispered, " Gary? I…um…I have to tell you this…I just make out, but I dont do other
stuff, ok?" she said. "Ok," I said agreeably, and frankly didnt know exactly what "other
stuff" she was referring to, but I was more than overjoyed just to have her touch me with
her nails, and kiss me. "Youre not mad at me?" she asked. "No. Why would I be mad
at you?" I asked. "I dunno, some boys ask me to do things, and then they get mad when I
say no," she said. "What if I asked you to put red polish on your fingernails?" I asked
(Im not kidding, I really said that!). Kimberly laughed, "Ohmygod, youre so cute!"
and she gently pulled us down on the bed and we had another long kiss with more nail-
stroking. Then suddenly she hopped off the bed. "What are you doing?" I asked as she
lifted the windowshade. "Youll see," she said. She returned to the bed with a little
bottle in her hand, sat cross-legged and began painting her nails bright red, making
careful strokes of the brush the length of each three-quarter-inch nail. "Gee I hope I have
enough to do all of them," she said turning the bottle to see how much was inside. When
she was done, she blew gently on them and waved her long, red nails at me. "How do
you like them?" she asked. "Theyre amazing!" I cried. "I really like you," she said. "I
really like you too," I said, and I made a move toward her. "Ack! Theyre not dry yet!"
she giggled, holding her hands up away from me. And for the next half hour or so, we
made out without her touching me with her hands. I could smell the fresh polish, and I
could see her long, long nails now a brilliant red looking more tempting and fantastic
than I couldve imagined. When she decided they were dry enough and began to stroke
me with them again, it was the most exciting thing Id ever experienced…and it made me
aware that pleasure could be increased by a prolonged tease.
Kimberly painted her nails red for me many times when we were an item, although it was
the only thing I ever requested. As much as I wanted her to scratch me, I dared not ask or
try to provoke her. She wouldnt have been sympathetic, and it wouldve spelled a quick
end to our little relationship. I enjoyed our make-out sessions, and whatever she did with
her nails was amazingly pleasurable. Hell, just looking at them was pure joy. We were
together for the rest of 7th grade, but after that it was over. No, she didnt suddenly
decide to cut her nails, and no, she didnt fall for some other guy. I almost wish either or
both had happened, because the finality of it wouldve given me the closure I needed to
move on quickly. Instead, Kimberlys father got transferred a thousand miles away, and
they moved right after school was out. After a marathon makeout session, we said a
tearful, gut-wrenching goodbye. Of course we promised to write, and for a few months
we did. But a girl like Kimberly needs a boyfriend, not a pen-pal. As for me, memories
of nails couldnt satisfy my obsession. But life is unpredictable, and who knew? Perhaps
one day Kimberly and I would meet again…
(…to be continued)
Long Nails Journey Into Night (Part 6) … by Gary B.
By the time I was in junior high it became apparent whatever primal instinct had led
younger girls to let their nails grow for the purpose of scratching, seemed to fade as they
matured. No doubt there were girls of that age or even older who could be provoked into
using their nails as weapons, but they didnt go to my school. I secretly wished we lived
in the tough part of town, where I imagined there must be lots of girls who wore very
long nails and used them to fight. All the girls I knew who had any nails at all were
fashion-conscious, kept their nails just a little over the fingertips, but filed to look
fashionable. A few girls let theirs grow a little longer, but if one did break they would cut
the rest down to match, so their worst nightmare was breaking a nail. They would no
sooner use their nails to claw someone, as they would use a string of pearls to strangle
someone. I resigned myself to only fantasizing about being scratched.
My 8th-grade girlfriends name was Carolyn, and although her nails were only around a
quarter-inch or sometimes a little more, she too was utterly paranoid about breaking one,
and everything she did with her hands she did slowly and cautiously, as if her nails were
as fragile as eggshells. She rarely touched me with them except to walk them up my arm
with a flirty smile whenever she wanted to make out. Carolyns mother had nails well
more than twice as long as Carolyns, lacquered with untold numbers of coats of polish,
and she had the same habit of walking them up Carolyns dads arm… and the same way
of guarding them as though they would crack if she touched anything. I wondered if
Carolyns dad was as frustrated as I was. One Friday Carolyn and I had a date to go to
the movies, and I came over a few minutes early. Her father greeted me at the front door
wearing an apron and holding a wet plate and a dish towel. Carolyns mother was sitting
at the dining table polishing her nails, and told me to just have a seat in the den and watch
TV while Carolyn finished getting ready. I sat on the couch and became engrossed in the
baseball game that was on TV. Suddenly I had the feeling I was being watched, and
when I looked up there was a young girl resting her chin on the arm of the overstuffed
chair next to the couch, staring at me with intense curiosity. As soon as she saw me
notice her she ducked her head down bashfully. "Hi, you must be Carolyns little sister?"
I asked. She nodded. "My name is Gary. Whats your name?" I asked pleasantly.
"Gigi," she replied very softly. "Thats a cool name," I said. "Its really Georgina but I
couldnt pronounce it when I was young," she said. "How old are you?" I asked. "Eight
and three quarters," she answered, "My birthdays in two months and eleven days. Are
you Carolyns boyfriend?" she asked. I nodded. Gigi screwed up her face and said, "Ill
never have a boyfriend." "Why not?" I asked. "Because. Boys are gross. I hate boys,"
she said. "Im a boy," I reminded her. Gigi blushed. All at once Gigi slid off her chair
and plopped herself down on the couch next to me. She looked up at me with puppy-
love eyes that reminded me of Michelle, the girl I met on vacation when I was Gigis age.
I looked down at her and smiled politely, then I looked at my watch, hoping Carolyn
would be downstairs soon. Suddenly I felt little pricking sensations on my hand and saw
Gigi walking her fingers up my arm. Maybe the girls were just copying what theyd seen
their mother do, assuming it was what girls were supposed to do to guys as a sign of
affection…or maybe it was a genetic thing. One thing that was definitely genetic was
their nails. Gigis fingers were little but her nails were almost as long as Carolyns! And
the corners were filed so they looked like little daggers, so there was no question that she
grew her nails long on purpose. Mind you, at 14 I wasnt even attracted to girls who
were a year or two younger than me, but the sight and touch of Gigis sharp little long
nails on my arm was having pretty much the same effect on me as Carolyns did. It
threw me into a cold-sweat panic of confusion, the biggest part of which was trying to
decide how to extricate myself from the situation. I didnt want to react in any way that
might create questions or suspicion. Remember, my nail obsession remained a dark
secret. Making matters worse, the touch of Gigis nails was almost hypnotizing me, and I
was having trouble thinking clearly. When she reached the upper part of my arm, Gigi
brought her other hand alongside it too, and started lightly scratching with all ten nails. I
could feel myself perspiring, and I took a deep breath and managed to squeak out, "I
thought you didnt like boys." Gigi held her fingers still and lightly indented her nails
into my upper arm. She grinned and said, "I dont."
"Georgina! No! Dont you dare!" screamed Carolyns mother, who had suddenly
appeared in the doorway. Gigi let out a confounded "hmph!" and folded her arms
abruptly. "Its ok, Mrs. B," I interjected quickly on Gigis behalf, "She wasnt doing
anything wrong. Shes a sweet kid. She was just keeping me company. She…" "In
another couple seconds," Carolyns mother said dryly, "She wouldve clawed the skin off
your arm." A shiver ran through me like someone had opened the door to a blast of arctic
wind. I looked at Gigi, and she looked back at me with an expression that absolutely
confirmed what her mother had said. "Go to your room Georgina. Now!" her mother
said sternly. Pouting, Gigi got up and silently began to leave. I followed her with my
eyes, and she smiled, put her hand to her lips and blew me a kiss, followed by a little
scratching motion with her fingers. "Go! March upstairs!" her mother yelled. Then she
turned to me and said, "I apologize Gary. I had no idea Gigi was in here alone with you."
Just then Carolyn rushed in, looking frantic. "Gary? Are you ok?" she asked urgently,
and turned to her mother, "I passed Gigi on the stairs just now and…" "Garys fine," her
mother said, and shaking her head, "I was sure she was upstairs doing her homework.
Im sorry Carolyn."
Carolyn and I walked to the movies, and for the first half a mile or so we didnt say much.
Finally I said, "Carolyn…er…what was that all about with your sister?" "My parents
dont want me to talk to outsiders about her, um, issues," Carolyn said. "Outsider? Im
your boyfriend," I reminded her. "Well, I guess since you sort of already know part of it,
I might as well tell you the rest," Carolyn said. She took a deep breath and began, "Ever
since I can remember, Gigi was always scratching other kids. Mostly boys. She gets
some kind of big pleasure out of it. My parents have her to a shrink. Theyve got her to
where as long as theres a grownup around, she wont claw anyone. But so far they still
cant leave her alone with other kids, especially boys." "I dont get it, why do they let
her have long fingernails? Why dont they make sure theyre cut short?" I asked.
Carolyn sighed, "They tried that. For one thing, it took both my parents together,
wearing gloves and long-sleeved coats to keep from getting clawed to pieces. Then Gigi
started biting other kids. And I mean, really biting, like an animal. The shrink said
cutting her nails was just covering up her issues, its better to let her have long nails and
learn to control herself." "Wow," is all I could manage to say. I felt an instant kinship
with Gigi. I knew what it was like to be a young child with an uncontrollable obsession,
and as it happened, our obsessions were closely related. Carolyn squeezed my hand and
said, "You have no idea how vicious Gigi can get. Youre incredibly lucky my mom
came along when she did." "Yeah. Lucky," I agreed…outwardly, but inwardly I felt just
the opposite, as if Id missed the last opportunity of my life to have a girl scratch me for
real. As we walked on, Carolyn walked her long fingernails up my arm and whispered,
"I hope you werent planning on actually watching the movie." Carolyn was totally hot,
totally into me, and she had the beautiful long fingernails that were essential to excite me.
And yet even as we made out in the back of the dark movie theater, my mind was
distracted, trying to figure how I could get myself scratched by her little sister. I hated
myself, I truly did.
Carolyn and her family made certain Gigi wasnt left alone with me any time I was at
their house. Sometimes I could swear I saw a smoldering glow in her eyes, like a cat
longing to strike with her claws but unable to get close enough. Or maybe it was just the
reflection of my own obsessed frustration. But I clearly remember one time Carolyn and
I took Gigi for ice cream, and while we were waiting to pay Carolyn gasped, "Oh my
God!" and grabbed Gigi by the back of her sweatshirt just as she took a vicious swipe at a
boy standing in the next line. I could hear Gigis nails skim his arm, and he yelled,
"Hey!" but Carolyn had pulled her little sister back in time that her nails left only light,
white lines. "Gigi! Tell him youre sorry!" Carolyn demanded. Gigi gave her a defiant
look and then turned to the boy and said with a forced smile, "Im sorry." Then her smile
vanished and she added, "Sorry I didnt get to scratch you harder." It made me shiver,
and I wished Carolyn were more like her little sister.
One Friday Carolyn said she couldnt go out with me because she had to babysit Gigi,
and I volunteered to come over and just hang out. I prayed at some point during the
evening there would be an opportunity to let Gigi get her nails on me. It wouldnt take
long. But Carolyn never left me unguarded, not even for a moment. Even when she
excused herself to use the restroom, she made Gigi go upstairs with her. When it was
time for Gigi to go to bed she hugged Carolyn and then held her arms wide for me, but
even then Carolyn held her sisters wrists tightly, and whispered, "Nice try." Gigi
stomped upstairs angrily. The rest of the evening Carolyn and I made out on the couch,
and although the gentle stroking of her nails drove me crazy, my mind was on Gigi sitting
just upstairs with her sharp little dagger-nails, no doubt seething with frustration that her
plan to claw me had been thwarted.
But as months passed, Gigi seemed to pay less and less attention to me whenever I was at
their house. I was surprised once when Carolyn got up to get a bag of chips from the
kitchen and left Gigi alone with me in the den. Gigi didnt even look up from her
homework. "Math?" I asked, trying to start a conversation. "Yes," she said. "Need any
help? Im good at math," I said. "No thank you," she said. "Here, let me check over
your answers," I offered, getting up. "I have the answer book upstairs," she said, and she
got up and left. I was puzzled. When Carolyn got back I told her I offered to help Gigi
with her homework, and Carolyn just smiled and said, "Thats nice." After a few
moments I said, "You left us alone." "Oh. Yeah. Gigis been making real progress
according to her shrink," she said. "You mean, shes cured?" I asked. Carolyn shrugged,
"I guess." I was crushed because it seemed as though my chance had passed for good,
yet I had sensed something unsettling in the almost scripted way Gigi had responded to
me. But just then Carolyn turned the light down and started making out, and I did my
best to put Gigi out of my mind.
After school ended, Carolyns family had a huge pool party at their house, and I was
invited. They had almost an acre of land surrounded by woods, and an Olympic-sized in-
ground pool, so there was probably a hundred people or more mulling about. Carolyns
dad was manning the built-in barbeque, and her mom was mixing drinks. Carolyn and I
were laying out on deck chairs. She looked incredible in her 2-piece bikini, from her cute
little toes to the top of her sun-streaked hair she was absolutely gorgeous, and I couldnt
take my eyes off her. Of course my gaze lingered longest on her hands. Her fingernails
were at the longest theyd been in a while, over a quarter-inch, and she had them painted
the same frosty pink as her toenails. She walked her nails up my arm and leaned over to
whisper in my ear, "Do you want to go up in Gigis tree house?" "Wont she get mad?" I
asked. "She wont even know. Shes busy playing," Carolyn said. I looked across the
pool and saw Gigi laughing and splashing with a bunch of girls-and boys, her age.
"Last year at this time nobody wouldve thought we could trust her not to scratch
someone to shreds," Carolyn remarked, "Isnt it wonderful?" "Yeah. Wonderful," I said,
trying not to let my secret disappointment show in my voice. "You go ahead up in the
tree house," Carolyn whispered, "Then Ill come along in a little while. That way my
parents wont get suspicious." I winked at her and slipped my shirt on unbuttoned, and I
casually got up and walked slowly around the pool, stopping to pick up a plastic cup of
Pepsi. When nobody was looking I headed through the woods toward the giant oak tree
where Gigis tree house was perched.
I climbed up the ladder and ducked inside. The tree house was about five feet square,
and the roof was too low for me to stand up fully. I sat on the floor with my legs crossed
and leaned against the wall. I wasnt wearing a watch and it seemed like a long time had
passed, so I peered through a knot-hole toward the pool, and saw that Carolyns mom had
sat on my deck chair and was engaging Carolyn in conversation. Disgruntled, I sat back
down, figuring to wait a few more minutes and then go back to the pool area. I was about
to leave when I heard the patter of hands and feet on the ladder below. "Its about time!"
I joked. But it was Gigis face that appeared in the entrance. "This is my tree house,"
she snapped. "Im sorry," I said, rising to my knees. Gigi crawled inside and sat down
blocking my exit. "Ill leave now," I said. Gigi grasped my arm, and I could feel her
sharp little dagger-nails pricking me. "Does that hurt?" she asked. "A little," I said. "I
just filed my nails this morning. That always leaves them extra sharp," she said, "But
Im not allowed to use my nails to hurt people." "Oh," I said, trying not to sound
dejected although I was. Gigi smiled at me and walked her fingers up my arm slowly,
pressing only lightly with her sharp nails. "I can really scratch hard you know," she said.
"But youre not allowed to," I echoed. Gigi sighed forlornly, "I want to so bad. Its so
unfair!" "I know what you mean," I said. Gigi walked her fingers up my arm again,
pressing her nails more firmly this time. "What do you like so much about scratching
someone?" I asked. Id never asked a girl that before, but always wanted to know. "I
dont know. I get this wonderful feeling all over!" Gigi replied with a little shiver. She
walked her fingers up my arm again, very quickly, poking her nails into me hard with
each step. She stopped just below my shoulder, and brought her other hand up so all ten
fingers were poised around my arm. I could hear her breathing quicken, and the next
thing I felt was an explosion of pain.
Gigi dug all her little dagger-sharp fingernails in and slowly raked them down my arm. It
hurt more than anything Id ever experienced in all the times Id been scratched. Long
white lines trailed her nails, and I could see shed taken off the outer layers of skin.
Blood came quickly to the surface. Gigi squeaked gleefully and raised both hands above
her head, then she swung them down rapidly, landing her curled fingers with a thud
against my chest and then raking her sharp fingernails all down the front of me. It
shocked me so much I didnt even react until shed done it again. I shouted, "Gigi!" and
made a grab for her arms, but she was very quick and evaded my grasp, and instead she
grabbed my arms and scratched with all her might. She was completely wild and out of
control. Swiping, raking, grabbing, pinching; flailing her hands in a blur of motion, her
sharp, long fingernails were like a barrage of whirling blades, slicing me everywhere at
once. When I finally got a hold of her she thrashed and growled like an animal, opening
and closing her fingers trying to claw at me, snapping her teeth trying to bite my hands.
She was extremely strong for a 9 year-old girl and I could barely hold onto her. She
kicked at me and raked my legs with her toenails, which looked like she hadnt cut them
in months. Her big-toe nail left a long red scratch down my shin that burned like fire.
"Gigi! Gigi!" I shouted, shaking her. Finally she reached the point of exhaustion and
stopped thrashing. We heard someone climbing up the ladder. "Gary? Are you up
there?" Carolyn called out. "Wait, Im coming down," I shouted, quickly buttoning my
shirt so she wouldnt see all the scratches. "Stay here until were gone," I whispered to
Gigi. "Youre not going to tell?" she asked incredulously. "No," I said. "Really?" she
asked. "Really," I said. "Why not? I scratched you all over, really hard!" she said. "Do
you want me to tell?" I asked. "No!" she said emphatically. "Well then, stay quiet until
me and Carolyn are back at the house," I said. Gigi was making little picking sounds
cleaning under her nails.
"What happened to you?" Carolyn asked pointing at the long raw scratch running down
my shin that had come from Gigis toenail. "What? Huh?" I said pretending to just then
notice it, "Oh…I scraped myself on a branch going through the woods before. Its
nothing." "Gary your face is scratched-up too…and your neck!" she gasped, "And your
hands…Gary, is that blood on your shirt?" "Really, its ok. Forget it," I said. "Let me
see," she demanded. "I mean it, its nothing," I said. "If its nothing, then unbutton your
shirt," Carolyn said suspiciously. "Never mind, Ill just go home and wash up," I said
shrugging her off. I felt like my entire torso was on fire and throbbing. "Oh…ok," she
said quietly. As I turned to walk away and she asked, "Arent you going to kiss me
goodbye?" I stopped and held her shoulders while we kissed, but suddenly Carolyn
yanked my shirt up and screamed, "Oh my God!" and then she yelled, "Mom!! Dad!!"
"Shhh!" I cried and clamped my hand over her mouth, "Dont call your parents!"
Carolyn cried, "Gigi needs to be locked up somewhere! Forever!" "No!" I said, "It was
all my fault. I was just horsing around, teasing her. She didnt mean to do it." "Oh
bullshit," Carolyn snapped, "She meant it. She always means it. Shes sick!" "Please
Carolyn, please dont tell your parents," I pleaded, " I promised Gigi I wouldnt rat her
out. I gave her my word." Carolyn protested. "For me. Do it for me. Please?" I
begged. Carolyn shrugged her shoulders and said, "Ok. But just for you." "I love you," I
said. "Yeah, whatever," she said and walked away from me toward the pool.
I looked up at the tree house and Gigi scampered down. "Is Carolyn going to tell
mommy and daddy?" she asked fearfully. "No. I made sure she wont," I said. Gigi
didnt thank me, or offer even the hint of an apology. She just said, "In that case you can
come up in my tree house again." And with a chilling smile she dragged a sharp
fingernail across the back of my hand harshly before turning her back and skipping away.
(…to be continued)
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Part 7
Long Nails Journey Into Night (part 7) … by Gary B.
If there was one person that convinced me beyond any doubt that I was headed for
downfall, it was my high-school girlfriend Carolyns 9 year-old sister Georgina, or as
everyone called her, Gigi. Gigi had long nails and an urge to scratch that was far beyond
childish mischief. Had her penchant been for hitting or biting, I would have feared and
avoided her much as everyone else did. But because I had the complementary urge to be
scratched, I had carelessly un-done months of her therapy by egging and manipulating
her into clawing me. Gigi and I both knew she was one step away from being sent to
some sort of boarding school for emotionally-disturbed children, and we entered into a
bizarre and secret codependent arrangement. I was her enabler, she was my fix. It was
sick. While the weather was still warm, I would meet her in her tree house at the far end
of her familys lot where she would channel all her pent-up hostility through her sharp
nails to my skin in a fierce frenzy of clawing. When it got too cold for the tree house,
Gigi pretended to need extra help with her math homework, and I volunteered to tutor
her. Of course her parents and my girlfriend trusted me completely, so they didnt give it
a second thought when Gigi kept the door to her room closed when I was there. She kept
a nail file in her desk drawer and as soon as I would arrive shed take it out and sharpen
her nails. She loved to scratch my arms and chest with my shirt on and then look under it
to see if shed broken my skin, which was her way of testing that her nails were sharp
enough. Then shed pull my shirt up and really go to work on my bare skin. It was hard
for both of us to remain silent, me because the pain made me swoon and want to cry out;
and her because scratching me gave release to all her pent-up emotions. But it was
imperative we didnt make any noise, because her mom had a habit of barging in without
knocking, and the only forewarning we had of her approach was the creaking of the
floorboards in the hallway. Gigis room was always a mess, with clothes strewn
everywhere, and one time her mom sighed and shook her head at the clutter and began
picking up. She gasped, "I just bought you these socks last week and look at the holes in
them! Gigi, you really must cut your toenails. Arent you embarrassed to have Gary see
them?" "No," Gigi replied, stretching her feet out toward me and spreading her toes.
Her toenails were unbelievably long, in fact I dont know how she managed to wear
closed shoes. Her mom looked at me for support, but I blurted out, "I think theyre kind
of cool," to which she shook her head in dismay and chuckled, "Youre kind of weird,
Gary." Oh if she only knew how weird. As soon as she left the room, Gigi put her feet
up under my shirt and raked me with her toenails, which had very sharp corners that cut
like knives.
My worst fear was that Carolyn would figure things out and dump me. After all, she was
the one who discovered Gigi had scratched me the first time, and let me persuade her not
to tell her parents. My upper body was a mass of healing scratches all the time, and if
Carolyn touched me when I wasnt expecting it, it was all I could do not to jump. Little
did I suspect what the true end would be. One day Carolyn took me by the shoulders,
told me she hated to hurt me, but that she liked someone else. It was over, just like that.
Her new boyfriend didnt like the idea of me hanging around, so my "tutoring" sessions
with Gigi ended abruptly. So there I was with no girlfriend or her little sister to scratch
me. It took its toll brutally on Gigi as well, because not long after that Gigi scratched a
boy on the school bus so badly he needed to be on antibiotics for 2 weeks. She got
suspended from school, and her parents decided to send her away to that special boarding
school.
That spring I was almost 16 and bursting with anticipation to get my drivers license.
Every day after school my mom would let me drive her around to practice my turns and
lane-changes, and then shed go inside the house while I pulled the car around to the back
alley and into the garage. One day as I was closing the garage door I happened to look
across the alley and there leaning against the opposite garage was a strikingly beautiful
girl in tight jeans and barefoot, with waist-length blond hair parted in the center and a
long red paisley-print scarf tied around her forehead like a bandana. She put a short
cigarette butt to her lips and flicked a disposable lighter with her other hand. My knees
almost buckled, because I could see she had exceptionally long fingernails. She took a
long drag and choked out a raspy, "You wont tell on me will you?" "Oh my
god…Natalie? Is that you?!" I cried in disbelief. "Hey Gary, howve you been?" Natalie
asked. As I walked over to her I could smell the unmistakable acrid odor of marijuana.
She held the joint out to me, pinched between her thumbnail and pointer nail, with her
ring and pinkie fingers up. Her nails were beyond belief long, easily 1 to 2 inches.
"What? Youve never tried dope?" she asked with disbelief, and I realized I had frozen at
the sight of her nails, and she mistook it for apprehension. "Huh? What? Oh, sure, I get
high all the time," I said, although actually Id only tried it once. My hands were
shaking badly as I tried to take the joint from between her nails., "Here, just take a toke.
Ill hold it. I have my own built-in roach clips," she laughed, wiggling her free fingers
with their astoundingly long nails. I laughed back, trying to hide how flustered I was.
"Do you think my nails are groovy?" she said as I took a drag on the joint. I coughed.
"Who says groovy any more?" I asked with a snicker. "I do," Natalie said, "I believe
Im the reincarnation of a flower child who was trampled to death at Woodstock." "Um,
Natalie, there were only three people who died at Woodstock: one ODd, one got run
over by a tractor, and one had a ruptured appendix. And all of them were guys," I said.
"OK so maybe it wasnt Woodstock where she died. Anyway, what are you, some kind
of walking encyclopedia?" she asked annoyed. "Sorry," I said. "Its OK. Here, have
another toke," she said putting the joint up to my lips, and she combed her incredible
fingernails through her long blond hair.
Finally able to overcome some of my awestruck stupor, I checked Natalie out from top to
bottom. She had definitely blossomed! She had been an adorable kid, but now she was
staggeringly beautiful, down to her slender feet with long toes…and the same untrimmed
toenails with dirt underneath them that I recalled from our early childhood. "Still
working in your garden?" I asked glancing at her feet. "Huh? Oh! No," she laughed, "I
just go barefoot almost all the time." "Ah, I forgot, the reincarnated hippie girl in you," I
said. "Dont make fun of her!" Natalie teased. "Im not," I said. "You better not,"
Natalie said tracing circles in the dirt with her foot, "Because she thinks youre cute."
"Really?" I asked, genuinely taken aback. "In fact she wants you to ask her for a date,"
Natalie said. Now I was really floored. Girls didnt come on to guys much back then. I
guess I was silent a moment too long, and Natalie asked rather indignantly, "Whats the
matter? Youre not some kind of male chauvinist pig who cant stand aggressive girls are
you?" "Oh, no!" I said, "Definitely not. So…would you like to go out sometime?" "I
dont know…Ill have to think about it," she replied. "What?!" I cried. Natalie managed
to keep a straight face just long enough to make me squirm, then her smile was like a
sunburst and her laughter like music, and I was in love…again. She fired up her joint
again and took a drag, then she let me have one. She gave me a gentle scratch on the
cheek with her 2-inch long pinkie nail and said teasingly, "So you still havent said if you
think my nails are groovy." Natalie laughed out loud, "Jeez Gary, you look like one of
those bobble-head dolls."
"Well, Ive got homework to do so I guess Id better go," Natalie said tossing the tiny
remnant of the joint over the fence into her neighbors flower bed. She wiped some ash
off her extraordinarily long thumbnail and smiled at me. I found myself brushing back
her long blond hair and moving in for a kiss. Natalie closed her eyes and our lips met.
No kiss had ever before felt like that one. My head spun, my legs felt wobbly, and it was
like electricity was buzzing throughout me. Suddenly I felt her caress my cheeks with
the tips of her long fingernails, and I nearly fainted. Natalie laughed softly and I opened
my eyes to see her smiling. "Remember when we were little kids, how I used to scratch
the shit out of you?" she asked. "Yes," I said. "Can you imagine if I did it now…with
these?" she laughed, menacing her nails at me. Not only could I imagine it, I burned
with longing for it. Id been scratched with long nails plenty of times, but never with
talons like hers. I imagined it would be the ultimate thrill. And I believed that if Natalie
had it in her to scratch me as a child, somehow she could be induced to do it now.
As suddenly as our romance had begun, so it grew in intensity. The next afternoon when
I drove in, Natalie was waiting for me. We got high, and then went inside my garage and
made out in my moms car. Carolyn had always made me feel like she was making out
for my sake, as if I were some neanderthal with primal needs that needed placating, and
she always seemed as if she felt compelled to remain vigilant in order to police the
action. By contrast, Natalie seemed to be able to immerse herself totally, and yet set
clear limits. Carolyn had caressed me with her nails only reluctantly and with frequent
whining about ruining her polish. Natalie was into being in-tune and in-touch with her
senses, and told me her nails transmitted the feel of my skin to her fingers amplified. She
called it "spaced out" and "psychedelic". I called it heavenly. I kept gently trying to
persuade her to do it harder, and she did up to a point. Alas, at nearly 2 inches, her nails
had so much leverage that she couldnt press very hard without causing herself pain. It
was a shocking realization that in truth nails between 1/8 and inch were the most
capable of inflicting pain and damage, and ironically the super-long nails of horror
movies could not ever cause the kind of mayhem they portray. Thats not to say
Natalies nails couldnt draw blood and leave marks, as well they did on frequent
occasions when she let herself go. And Natalie never apologized, which was itself a
turn-on, that she really didnt care what she did to me in the interest of enjoying herself.
Natalie was as close to a perfect mate as I could ever have hoped. Yet in the back of my
mind I recalled how shed casually cut her nails off to take piano lessons as a child, and
fretted that her talons were perhaps a passing phase. I could never tell her that cutting her
nails was what halted our budding romance as children, because she would realize that
her nails were the mortar that bound our current romance. Once while she was scratching
my back I asked her to promise me shed never cut her nails, and to my dismay she
laughed it off, forcing me to fake a laugh as though I had been joking. Inside I was
crying, because I was certain it was a matter of when, not if, she would cut them. Natalie
was smart and funny and beautiful, and we were very much in love with each other. And
yet the prospect of her one day sweeping our relationship into the trash along with the
discarded pieces of her nails left me in a constant state of angst. But even when her nails
would break and she was down to only 3 or 4 very long ones, she never cut the rest down
to match. One of the other girls we hung around with told her she should, and Natalie,
high as a kite as she usually was, stared transfixed at her hands and responded that "my
nails are living beings that grow and thrive, and then they die, and then they regrow…its
a natural and spiritual cycle of life that I embrace with wonder and love." After that I
relaxed a little. I figured that as long as Natalie kept getting high she would probably
keep her nails long, and Natalie was really, really fond of dope.
In embracing the hippie paradigm, Natalie was a free spirit in terms of relationships, too,
which was extremely hard for me to deal with. She was forthright about doing it with
other guys, it was something I had to accept if I wanted to be with her. She said she
needed to be "free from the archaic and oppressive social morals that cast women in the
role of being mens possessions". She said I was the only one she loved, and that she
didnt mind if I did it with other girls as long as she was the only one I loved. But I
didnt have the same opportunities a hot girl like her had, so I pretty much was only with
Natalie through the rest of high school. Every time I knew she was with someone else I
actually got physically sick, but I was addicted to her 2-inch long fingernails and couldnt
bear to break up with her. When we graduated, Natalie announced that instead of going
straight on to college, she was going to take "some time" off and hitchhike through
Europe. She begged me to go with her, but the thought of sulking alone in youth hostels
while Natalie slept her way across the continent with handsome European guys was very
unappealing. And fortuitously at that time most of Natalies nails were short from having
broken, which made it much easier for me to let her go. She cried and told me I was the
only guy she would ever love, and that she knew our fates were "eternally bound". I
think she really believed it.
It was a dismal, depressing summer. But I was headed off to college in the fall, and my
head was filled with hope and anticipation that among the co-eds I would find another
cute girl with ultra-long nails to fulfill my needs.
(…to be continued)
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Part 8
Long Nails Journey Into Night (Part 8) … by Gary B.
In late August I stuffed my worldly belongings into the battered Ford Escort Id bought
with the last of my summer-job income, and headed off to begin life as a college
freshman. With hope springing eternal, I immediately set out to explore in search of
girls. So did just about every other guy, but their quest wasnt complicated by the
constraints of a long-nail fetish. When I analyzed it though, I realized it might actually
play to my advantage. After all, my "10" was anyone from about their "6" on, as long as
she had long fingernails. The trouble was, that first day I only spotted four co-eds with
natural nails past their fingertips: three were fat and that repulsed me despite their nails,
and the fourth was in an electric wheelchair and could barely move her hands. Her
fingers were long and thin, and her nails were very long and very beautifully manicured
with clear-pink polish. She was quite pretty. Beautiful in fact. She saw me staring at
her, and, embarrassed she might think I was staring at her because she was disabled, I
smiled and introduced myself and began making idle small-talk about classes and where
we each were from et cetera. Her name was Patti, and it turned out she was as charming
as she was attractive. I walked alongside her as her chair whirred its way down the
hallway.
Somewhere in the midst of our chat, I shocked myself by blurting out how rare it was to
see a girl with such beautiful long nails. I say shocked, because I was always petrified to
give a girl the inkling I was into nails, fearing shed think I was some kind of freak. But
Patti didnt so much as blink, she just laughed said that she had an advantage over most
girls in that not being able to do much with her hands meant she never broke a nail. Then
her expression changed to serious, and she said that having long nails was the one thing
that made her feel feminine. I asked her if I could walk with her to her dorm, and she
said she lived in an apartment at the edge of campus, but that shed like it if I
accompanied her. "Youll come in handy in case I get a flat," she joked.
Her apartment building looked to be a converted one-story motel, and each door had a
ramp. Patti drove her chair up the ramp and pushed a little button on her wheelchair near
the control stick. The door opened and a thirty-something black woman in navy blue
scrubs and white nurses shoes stood in the doorway. "This is Adele, shes
my…companion," Patti said, "Adele, this is Gary. He walked me home from campus."
Adele looked at me with a hint of protective concern on her face. But she nodded and
then propped the door open with a rubber wedge and quietly went back inside.
"Well…Ive really enjoyed talking with you Gary," Patti said, "I hope we can chat again
sometime." Right then, I asked her if she had a boyfriend. Just blurted it out. She gave
me a mixed look of anger and hurt and said, "Are you trying to be funny?" I quickly
said, "No! I was trying to find out if I had a shot at getting you to go out with me."
"What are you, some kind of freak whos into girls in wheelchairs?" she asked, incensed.
It was the most absurdly ironic moment in my life up to that point. I imagined it was the
only scenario in which a girl wouldve actually been less disgusted had she known I
made a pass at her because of her long nails.
"No! I just really like you and Id like to spend more time with you, thats all," I lied,
unable to take my eyes off her beautiful, perfect long real nails. I was thoroughly
disgusted with myself. Patti tilted her head in contemplation, and after a moment asked,
"So…if I were to say yes, what would we do on a date?" "How about dinner and a
movie?" I asked. "Adele would have to come with us," she informed me somewhat
apologetically. "Why?" I asked, but from the look on her face I regretted having posed
the question. "If I need to go to the bathroom I need help," she said with candor, "And I
dont mean just opening the door." "Hmm. Sorry, I didnt think about that," I said,
feeling very embarrassed Id made her spell it out. "I suppose you figured I wear a
diaper," she said. Now I was really feeling awkward. "I dont need to. Its my arms and
legs that dont work," Patti said, and with a flick of her dark, nicely-shaped eyebrows
added, "FYI, everything else works fine. Everything." "Cool," I said taking her hand.
She closed her fingers around mine slowly, and I could see in her eyes she was
concentrating all her effort to do so. I bent down, and she sighed as our lips met. I
brought her hand to my face while we kissed. I could feel the tips of her long, manicured
nails touching me and I got hard. Suddenly she curled her fingers and scored my cheek
with her sharp nails. I inhaled quickly, as much from pleasure as pain, but Patti squeaked
with alarm and began apologizing profusely, tears streaming from her light brown eyes.
"I didnt mean to…I cant control…I mean, oh God Im so sorry!" she wept. "So tell me,
what would you like to do on our first date?" I asked, trying to divert the subject. "It just
isnt going to work, cant you see that?" Patti said. "No, I cant see that at all," I said,
catching a covert glance at her gorgeous long nails, feeling my cheek stinging from the
scratches, and the rush it gave me. I bent down and kissed her again. And again I held
her hand up to my face. She whined a protest but she hadnt the strength in her arm to
resist, nor when I pressed her nails firmly into my flesh. "But…" she began. "Its ok. It
turns me on," I whispered. Id never admitted that to anyone before, and it shocked me
that it had been so easy for me to be candid with Patti. "I have to study but Ill be done
by like, midnight," she said, "so, if you want you could come over and we could hang
out. I mean, if you want to, of course…" "See you tonight," I said, and we kissed again.
I stopped at the campus cafeteria for dinner, and then spent the next few hours at the
library. I could hardly concentrate on studying, between cursing myself for being such a
desperate freak that I put the moves on a disabled girl because she had long nails…and
the anticipation of seeing and feeling those nails again. After I found myself reading the
same sentence over for the third time without comprehension, I decided I needed some
air to clear my head, and I gathered my books into my backpack and slung it over my
shoulder. I felt it bump something, and heard a little yelp. I turned around quickly to
apologize, and there was a diminutive Asian girl in a pink sweater, with shoulder-length
black hair cut in a shaggy style. She was doll-like beautiful, with succulent lips in glossy
pink lipstick, and her dark brown, teardrop-shaped eyes accentuated with dark liner and
bronze shadow. She smiled a toothy white smile and her eyes nearly closed, and she
giggled softly and said, "Sorry, my fault." "No, it was my fault. I shouldve been
looking out and…" my words stuck in my throat. The girl had brought her right hand up
to her face to sweep her hair out of her eyes, and I caught sight of her nails. Her
thumbnail and first two fingers nails looked at least an inch long, and her ring-finger and
little finger nails were about an inch and a half, all polished in a transparent frosted pink.
"Let me buy you a cup of coffee," I said quickly. "Its ok. Im fine," she said. I was
hard as can be, and my knees were shaking. "Please. I wont be able to sleep tonight
unless you let me treat you to something," I insisted. She looked at her watch, and I saw
that the nails on her left hand were even longer. "I really have to go," she said. I
detected a faint trace of an accent. "How about tomorrow?" I asked. She touched her
plump lips pensively with the tip of her inch-long pointer-fingernail. "Ok," she said
lowering her head with a shy smile. "Meet you here at eight?" I asked. She nodded and
then turned to leave. "Wait, whats your name?" I asked. "I am Mai," she said demurely.
"Im Gary," I said, and thinking quickly asked her for her phone number. No way I was
going to take a chance on us not meeting the next day and me not knowing how to get in
touch with her. Mai turned her phone to me so I could copy down the number. My
hands were shaking so hard watching her unbelievably-long clear-frosted-pink fingernails
that I could barely write. Even after shed left it was a long time before my heart
stopped pounding, and even longer before my hardon subsided. The euphoria of
anticipating seeing Mai again the next day filled my brain with sparks and flashes…until
suddenly I remembered about Patti. By comparison, although her nails bordered on a
half-inch and were beautifully-shaped, they paled before Mais. And then there was the
little thing of her being quadriplegic. I no longer needed to pursue her, and my interest in
doing so had waned, and I hated myself for being so shallow. I picked up my phone to
make some kind of excuse…and then realized I never got her number. As I walked from
the library, I wrestled with my conscience over what to do. I didnt know which was
more cruel, to go to Pattis knowing Id already fallen for someone else, or to just blow
her off. I decided the latter would be cowardly as well as cruel, and…oh, hell, the truth
was I figured I might as well feel Pattis nails for real rather than go home and masturbate
thinking about Mais nails. So I set my stride in the direction of Pattis apartment.
Adele answered the door with a disapproving look, and before she let me enter she
whispered sternly, "You best not hurt her!" I said, "Dont worry." "You the one needs to
worry, boy," Adele whispered, and she pressed a thick, ugly acrylic nail into my chest,
"She cant kick your sorry ass, but I sure as hell can. And you know I will." Adele let
me pass by her, and I could hear the whir of Pattis chair getting closer. "Hi!" she said
with a big smile and a deep sigh, as though she was both surprised and relieved that Id
kept our date. "Can I get you anything, Miss Patti?" Adele asked in a very professional
manner. "Thanks, no, Adele," Patti replied. "Ill be in my room then. Buzz me when
you want me to get you ready for bed, alright?" Adele said. Patti looked tragic. "How
late will you be up?" she asked. "I wont be. You just wake me whenever," Adele said
with a wink. "Thanks," Patti said. "Take care, child," Adele whispered, and she kissed
Pattis forehead.
As soon as we were alone, Patti smiled at me and with obvious strain managed to slightly
lift her arms in a welcoming gesture. I bent over her and took her hands and held them
behind my neck. Her fingers were cold, but very soft, and the touch of her nails against
me got me hard. We kissed. "Would you like something to drink?" she asked. "Im
good," I replied. "Um…do you want to watch TV?" she asked. "If you do," I said. "We
could watch in my bedroom," Patti whispered, biting her lower lip anxiously. "That
sounds good," I said, and she blossomed into a smile. I held her hand and walked
alongside her chair as she wheeled into the bedroom. "Should I close the door?" I asked.
"I think so…do you?" Patti said hopefully. Silently I closed the door behind me as Patti
drove her chair into the room and turned it around. She turned on the TV quietly with a
remote she had in her chair, and she looked up at me and smiled. I bent over and we had
a long kiss. "Im sorry, you must be really uncomfortable," she apologized, and after a
moments pondering, "Why dont you lie on the bed and Ill pull up alongside?" I
stretched out on her bed and kicked off my shoes, meanwhile Patti maneuvered her
electric wheelchair deftly against the side of the bed. I leaned over and we kissed again,
with me propping my elbow on the arm of her wheelchair. Patti held my arm lightly with
one hand, her long nails indenting my skin. "Wouldnt you like to join me?" I asked.
Patti bowed her head. "I cant ask you lift me," she said. "Why not?" I asked, "You
dont look heavy." "Youd be surprised. I cant hold onto you. Im dead weight," she
sighed. "Im pretty strong. I promise I wont drop you," I said. "Im not worried about
that, I just dont want you to hurt yourself," she said. Patti locked her chair in place
while I slipped one arm under her knees and the other around her back. She was right, it
was a lot harder than I anticipated, but huffing and puffing I managed to get her out of the
chair and flop her onto the bed on her back.
Patti and I made out for a while. I kept stroking her hands and kissing her fingers,
because frankly the only way I could stay aroused was to concentrate on her long nails.
"You can undo my blouse if you want," Patti offered. I sensed she was puzzled by the
fact I was paying so much attention to her hands and hadnt even tried to touch her
breasts. I felt bad that I hadnt bothered to consider what she might like. I unbuttoned
her blouse and unfastened her bra, and began to fondle and taste her nipples. They got
hard, and I could feel her breathing quicken, and she sighed and moaned. "Am I hurting
you?" I asked. "No! Youre wonderful," she panted, "I love it. I cant do it for myself.
I cant touch myself." "So, um, would you like me to…um?" I began to ask. "Yes!" she
sighed quickly. I slipped my hand under her skirt and into her panties. She was soaking
wet and she had an orgasm almost the moment my fingers touched her pussy. "I cant
jerk you," she said, "But, how bout a blowjob?". I glanced at her hands, with those long,
perfect nails, which shed reflexively clenched into the sheets when she climaxed. She
relaxed when I held them, and I looked into her eyes. "Gary, no! I cant! Remember
how I scratched your face without meaning to!" Patti pleaded. I couldnt stop myself, I
had to feel her hands on my cock. At first I let her do it with the back of her fingers,
figuring that would be safer. But as I got more and more aroused, I threw caution to the
wind and held her silky palms against my shaft and wrapped her long, thin fingers
around, and began to slide them slowly and gently up and down. I quickly became
mesmerized by the sight of her beautiful long nails, and was reveling in the pleasure of
her light touch, when Patti suddenly implored me to stop. "Im almost there!" I whined.
"I know. Thats why I want to you stop," she said. "Why!?" I gasped. "Make love to
me, please," she pleaded.
Quickly I fished a condom from my wallet and tore the wrapper with my teeth while I
pulled her panties off. For a moment I was perplexed that she hadnt spread her legs for
me, but then realized that of course she couldnt. I gently parted her legs and wrapped
them around behind mine as I tried to enter her, but I could see it wasnt going to be
possible. "Put a pillow under my ass!" Patti panted. It had to lift her full weight with one
hand while I shoved the pillow under, and it took a couple tries. By that time I was
starting to get soft, and Patti kept repeating, "Im sorry. I know this isnt any fun for you.
Im sorry." I took her hands and kissed them, and told her it was ok and to stop
apologizing. "Youre amazingly sweet," she said. Of course she didnt know that I was
holding her hands because I needed to see and feel her nails to get hard again. Finally I
was able to penetrate her, and I settled into a slow fucking rhythm, all the while kissing
and sucking her fingers and long, manicured nails. Patti looked at me ravishing her
fingers, and with a puzzled and urgent expression on her face she whispered, "Wont you
please kiss me?" I leaned forward and rested her hands behind my back, but they sort of
flopped to the mattress. "Im sorry," she whispered, "I really do want to hold you, but I
cant." I had an idea. I put her hands behind me again, but this time I used my arms to
hold her arms against my sides. Patti touched my back with her fingers, and whispered,
"Youre so wonderful. I wish I could do something to make this enjoyable for you."
"Can you scratch my back?" I asked. "Ill try," she said as I began to kiss her neck. I
felt her nails make little, soft strokes on my back. It was tantalizing, driving me crazy.
"Hard! Do it hard!" I panted just before we began to kiss deeply. Never before had I
asked a girl to scratch me, let alone asked for it hard. Patti moaned a little and I felt the
sharpness of her nails press into me. I thought her moan meant she was getting into it,
but then I realized it was because she was summoning every ounce of her strength in
order to grant my wish to be scratched. I could feel myself grow harder, and so could
Patti, and I pumped her harder and faster. She began to sigh and moan louder. She
clamped her mouth on my neck and sucked for all she was worth, her breath coming in
jagged gasps. Suddenly she turned her head to the side and bit down on the pillow,
letting out a long, pleasured moan through her nostrils. At the same time, her fingers
suddenly clenched-up, each hand grabbing a handful of my back with her long, sharp
nails like steel claws. It sent me over the top instantly, and I shot again and again. It was
the longest Id ever cum in my life, which was a good thing because Pattis involuntary
grip didnt relax for a long time, and once my climax had passed the pain quickly became
overwhelming. I started to withdraw from her, but she whispered, "Dont. Please dont
move. Stay inside me. Stay on top of me. Stay with me. Sleep with me. Dont go.
Please dont go. I want to wake up in the morning and youll still be here. Promise you
wont go. " "Ok," I said, "I promise." I let her arms fall to her sides, and I could tell she
was exhausted and on the brink of sleep. I picked up her hands and kissed them and
licked my tongue around the sharp edges of her long, manicured nails. Patti and I both
felt my cock begin to stir inside her, and she opened her eyes and gave a delighted little
giggle. "If you put my hands behind you again, Ill scratch your back the way you like,"
she panted as I began to thrust.
That time I didnt cum as strong or for as long as the first time, but Patti did, and she
clawed her long, sharp nails into my back just as deeply and the spasm lasted just as long.
I thought I would pass out from the pain. I realized that once I had cum, I no longer
enjoyed being scratched. At that point pain was just pain. And yet, I knew all it would
take would be a glance at Pattis beautiful long nails to make me forget, and to want her
again. So that time I closed my eyes and willed myself to sleep. But as dawn peeked
around the curtains, I opened my eyes and there were Pattis nails. One hand was resting
against the pillow, palm facing me, the underneath of her nails showing a half-inch
beyond her thin fingertips. My hardening cock pressed against her thigh, and she opened
her eyes. "Youre so amazing!" she whispered, closing her eyes and parting her lips for a
kiss. Feeling my back still throbbing from the night before, I slipped my fingers between
hers and held her hands back against the pillow. When she climaxed, the magnitude of
the reflexive closing of her fingers was astounding considering how little strength she
could muster voluntarily. It felt like she could have snapped my fingers like twigs had I
not been ready. She dug her nails into the backs of my hands so hard their full half-inch
length seemed to disappear into my skin. Patti opened her eyes and gaped at what her
hands were doing, and she looked at me terrified and apologized again and again, unable
to release me. When her fingers finally relaxed, blood quickly trickled from where each
of her long nails had been buried in me. Patti began to weep, "I hurt you!" I laughed it
off, saying that Id never made a girl cum as hard as she did, and that it was a real ego-
boost. "Nobodys ever satisfied me like you did, not even when I could still walk," she
sighed, "And Ive never had a guy make love to me three times in one night before." She
thought Id been making love to her. At that moment I realized just how despicably low
Id sunk on account of my obsession with long nails, and I hated every fiber of my being.
"Im going to have Adele cut my nails short," Patti announced, staring apologetically at
the bleeding cuts on my hands. "No! My God, no! Dont!" I gasped. "Its alright, I
dont really need them to make me feel feminine anymore. You do that for me much
better," she grinned. "You dont understand. I…I need you to…I mean, I need any girl
to have long nails. It really turns me on," I told her. "Really?" she asked. "In fact, I sort
of cant get turned-on unless…" I bowed my head, feeling both ashamed of what Id
revealed, and yet as if a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. "Ive never
admitted that to any girl before," I said, "I was afraid shed think I was sick. Damaged."
"But you dont care what I might think," Patti surmised. "No, thats not it," I protested,
"I guess I figured you might not be as quick to judge me." "Or as quick to reject you,
given that I dont have many guys willing to have sex with me," she offered. "No! Stop
it! That isnt the reason!" I insisted, although I conceded to myself that she could be
right.
"Listen Gary," Patti said with a deep sigh, "Guys who hit on me do it out of pity or
twisted curiosity. The fact you get off on my long fingernails isnt any more offensive.
Actually, probably less." "It isnt just your nails. Youre very pretty. And nice," I
insisted, although I instantly regretted leaving and nice for last and making it sound like
an afterthought. "Im very realistic, Gary," Patti said, "I have needs, and you definitely
satisfy them. I dont expect you to be my boyfriend, or to fall in love with me. I wont
ask you to take me places, and I wont ask you not to see other girls. Just spend the
night with me now and then. Will you do that?" With great effort she raised one hand
and slowly curled her thin fingers. Her nails were so perfect. "Sure," I sighed. "Like,
once a week?" she asked, opening her hand. I lowered my head and held her fingers
against my face. "Sure," I said again. I felt her press her nails into my cheek. "Twice a
week would be even better," she whispered with a knowing smile. I nodded and kissed
her palm. "Ok, now I really need to pee, so Im going to buzz for Adele," Patti said. "I
could…" I started. "No," she said, "Just kiss me once more, and then go." "I will come
back," I assured her as I left. The moment I was out in the daylight my thoughts went
immediately to the beautiful Asian girl, Mai, whom I planned to meet that night. I
pictured her ultra-long, straight frosted-pink nails, and tried to imagine how they would
feel on my skin. I wasnt half a block from Pattis door and already Id forgotten about
her.
(…to be continued)
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Part 9
Long Nails Journey Into Night (Part 9) … by Gary B.
My obsession with long nails that began in kindergarten as a result of being scratched by
a little vixen, had by the time I reached college, pulled me into a self-made hell. I hated
that long nails were a necessary attribute for a girl to attract me, and that if she cut her
nails off the attraction dissolved. I despised myself for the way I could fall in to and out
of lust with a girl based on the length of her nails and the intensity with which she used
them on me. In my first days in college, desperation led me to hit on a quadriplegic girl
whose beautiful, long manicured fingernails happened to catch my eye. But even before
we had had sex, my eye had already wandered to a hot-looking little Asian girl named
Mai, whose straight, natural nails were spectacularly long. On our first date Mai was
waiting for me on the steps of the undergraduate library leaning against a lamp post. She
saw me coming and waved, and from what must have been seventy-five feet, I could see
her long nails transiluminated by the street light above and behind her. By the time I
came up to her I was already hard and so filled with lust to feel her nails furrow my skin
that I resented the fact I couldnt just wordlessly heft her over my shoulder and cart her
off to bed.
I asked Mai if she liked pizza, and she smiled and nodded. We began walking to a little
eat-in spot at the edge of campus. I noticed that Mai seemed taller than I recalled, and the
sharp tap of her step made me look down and notice she was wearing black satin pumps
with high stiletto heels. When we got to the restaurant, Mai hung her silk parka on the
back of her chair and I was startled that her hair was very long, about three-fourths of the
way to her waist. Apparently shed had it tied up in back the day before when we first
met, and I mistakenly thought it was only shoulder length. The last eight or ten inches
were curled softly and highlighted a reddish gold. I must say I was never a fan of Asian
girls with anything but their natural pitch-black hair, but Mais tresses looked very sexy.
She also was wearing a bit more makeup than when wed met, in particular her lipstick
was a deep pink shade that accentuated the Cupids bow contour of her plump and
succulent upper lip. She had on a dark red cashmere blouse, and it was clear she was
very small on top, but it didnt detract an ounce from her sexiness. Wearing a very tight
black mini skirt, she sat down taking care to keeping her legs together modestly. I
couldnt help but notice how shapely her legs were, and that her stiletto pumps were
open-toed and the pink-frosted nails on her big toes peeking through the openings were a
good quarter-inch long. I could feel my dick spring instantly to attention and I sat down
quickly so she wouldnt see the hard tent in my pants. Mai placed her hands delicately
on the table, and her astoundingly long fingernails clicked against the glass tabletop.
Perfectly straight, with straight, square-cornered ends, polished clear-frosted pink, they
were nothing less than sublime. If I could have fucked her right there on the table, I
would have.
We were both hungry, and said very little until wed finished eating. A little small-talk,
and a lot of flirting with our eyes. And, on my part, a lot of unsuccessful trying to calm
my sexual excitement to a manageable level. Mai was driving me out of my mind. Her
fingers wrapped barely less than three-quarters the way around her glass of Diet Pepsi,
but her nails nearly completed the circumference. When she held her pizza, her inch-long
thumbnails supported it from underneath, and she kept her pinkies out daintily
showcasing their inch-and-a-half-long nails. Frequently she would slide her amazingly
long nails one after another in and out between her tender pink lips, or lick their entire
length top and bottom. Slowly. It was impossible for me not to stare. "Do you think my
nails too long?" she asked with her little accent and an innocent tilt of her head, posing
her hands with the grace of a ballerina. Rendered speechless, I just shook my head no.
Mais succulent Cupids bow lip curled into a toothy white smile that made her eyes
almost close. She reached across the table and rested both of her hands on mine. "Good,
because I only will have a boyfriend who like my nails," she stated. "I like them," I said,
my excitement more than evident in my trembling voice. "Ohmygod, do you have a
girlfriend?!" she asked angrily, staring at the marks on my hand that Patti had left the
night before. "Uh…oh, um…no…no! Those are just…I was just arm-wrestling with my
buddys drunk girlfriend," I lied quickly. "Well…okay, I believe you. This time. But if
you even kiss some other girl, I will not ever speak to you again," she warned. "It sounds
like you want us to be a couple," I observed. "Maaaybeee," Mai said, drawing out the
word while she stroked her nails slowly across my hands as she withdrew hers with a
teasing laugh. "What do you say we go?" I asked, boiling with lust to get her alone
somewhere, anywhere. Mai shrugged, "Ok."
I tried my best to walk unhurriedly, hoping she wouldnt notice I was leading us back
toward my dorm. As we strolled I let my hand brush hers, and when she didnt take her
hand away I slipped my fingers between hers. Quickly Mai stopped, retracted her hand
and faced me. "It is only our first date," she said. "Im sorry," I apologized. "So you
understand, Im a good girl," she said. "Im sure you are," I said. Mai began walking
again, and for a few moments there was awkward silence. I thought to myself Id
screwed up and blown my chances with her. All I could see in my head were those
unbelievable long nails of hers--waving good-bye. But then I felt her fingers slip
between mine. I smiled at her, and she smiled for a second and then looked away shyly.
She tightened her grip a little, and I could actually feel the ends of her nails touching the
back of my hand, thats how long they were. I had to hunch over a little to conceal the
bulge in my pants as we continued. I abandoned the idea of trying to get her back to my
dorm, figuring that would blow my chances with her for good. Instead I suggested we
stop for dessert, but Mai said she had a quiz the next morning and needed to study. So I
walked her back to her dorm. It had a chain-link fence surrounding the grounds, with a
long walkway going up to the front door. Mai stopped at the gate. "Well, I guess,
goodnight," she said shyly. "I had a nice time," I said. "Me too," she said, flashing me
her toothy white smile framed with those succulent deep-pink lips, and she used her
amazing long nails to comb her long, softly-curled reddish-streaked black tresses away
from her face. "Id like to see you again…if thats ok," I said. Mai nodded. I smiled and
in as casual and non-aggressive way as I could, I put my hand up to her face and brushed
her cheek with my fingers. Mai didnt back away, in fact she just looked at me and
blinked her teardrop-shaped dark eyes. I leaned in to kiss her, felt her breath and the
brush of her moist, plump lips on mine. But it was only a brush, for instead of kissing me
she lowered her head shyly. As she backed away she raised her eyes and smiled at me,
and she gave me a little wave with her fingers, that I would describe as sort of scratching
the air with her very long nails. My hard-on was throbbing by that point, but I tried to
stay cool. Mai closed the gate slowly, but instead of turning to walk away, stood against
the fence and held onto it. The sight of her fingers and incredible long nails curled
through the links was driving me insane. As if that wasnt enough, she slipped one foot
out of her high-heeled pump and grasped a fence link with her toes. A quick glance
confirmed that all her toenails were long, not just the big one. Not outlandishly long, just
enough to be noticeable, and very sexy. "I really had a nice time," she reaffirmed, and
then she put her face up to the fence so her lips were within one of the open links. Mai
laughed a sexy giggle, and I came up to the fence and met her lips with mine. Her lips
were as sweet and soft as I had imagined. Through the fence we could only kiss gently,
and it was maddening. Mai slipped her fingers through the links and touched my cheeks
and I could feel the tips of her nails. I felt her hot tongue brush my lips just as she
withdrew her fingers, stroking my cheeks with her long nails, and I grabbed the fence to
keep my knees from buckling under my weight. Mai backed away slowly, smiling. "Can
I call you tomorrow?" I asked, hoping in vain to conceal the desperation in my voice. "I
will be finished studying by 2AM. You can call me tonight," she said with a toss of her
long, soft curls, and she gave me that little air-scratch wave again with her indescribably-
sexy long fingernails.
I badly needed to get off. So badly that I thought about calling Patti. But I knew there
was too much complexity involved in the logistics of doing Patti that I could manage to
sustain a fantasy of Mai. So with my stiff dick hurting at each step I hobbled back to my
room as quickly as I could, fumbled my pants down around my ankles, and dry-humped
the corner of my mattress. As I wiped up the mess I shook my head and cursed myself
for being such a hopeless loser. I tried to study, I watched some TV, ate remnants of cold
pizza from the day before. It was as if the clock was purposely slowing itself down to
torture me. Finally it was 2AM. I snatched up the phone, but then stopped myself to
wonder if I shouldnt play it cool and wait a few minutes. That mental debate lasted all
of fifteen seconds, and I heard Mais sweet voice say, "Hello?" "Hi…Mai? You are
done studying arent you? I mean I dont want to interrupt. I mean…." I babbled. "Yes,
Im done," she said, "My eyes wont focus any more," she said. "Oh. You probably
want to get undressed and in bed and go to sleep," I said apologetically, "We can talk
tomorrow." "Im too wired to sleep," she said, "But I am in bed, and I am undressed.
Why dont you take your clothes off and get in bed too, and we can talk." "Ok," I
laughed, "Ill call you back in a minute and…" "No, dont hang up. Talk to me while
youre getting undressed," she said. Trying to untie my shoelaces with one hand while
keeping the phone to my ear, it slipped and fell on the floor. "Sorry, dropped the
phone," I laughed. "Do you have a Bluetooth hands-free? Thats what Ive got," Mai
suggested. "Good idea," I said, fixing mine in my ear. "So…lets see…so what were you
studying?" I asked. "Were both naked and lying in bed. Do you really want to talk
about classes?" Mai asked. "I…I guess not," I said, a little shocked. "Dont you want to
think about me being naked?" Mai asked. "Y-yes. Sure. Of course," I said. "I have my
hand between my legs," she said, "Im touching myself." "If you want I could come
over," I offered, seeing as how she was obviously horny. "If I wanted you to come over I
would have asked you," she said sounding irritated. "Sorry, I just thought…" I began. "I
feel like having phone sex," she said, "But if you dont..." "No! I mean, yes! Great!
Lets!" I said. "Im really wet," Mai said, "How about you, Gary? Are you hard?"
Actually, I was so surprised by the whole thing that I wasnt hard yet, but I lied and said I
was. "Dont jerk it. Just touch it really soft and slow," Mai instructed, "Im touching
myself soft and slow, too. Can you picture me, lying naked, touching myself?" "Yes," I
sighed, "Youve got like the most beautiful body Ive ever seen." "My breasts are quite
small by American standards," Mai said. "Oh, um…thats ok," I said. "Whats the part
of my body that turns you on the most?" she asked. I panicked. How could I tell her the
truth, that it was her nails? "All of it, I guess," I said. "You have to be specific," she
said. "Your hair, your eyes…your lips. Yes! Your lips! Your lips are really, really
sexy," I said. "How about my tongue?" she asked, "I let you have a little taste of it when
we kissed." "I know. It was great," I said recalling that brief, wet brush between my lips
just before she backed away from the fence leaving me burning with unfulfilled desire.
"Im touching myself a little faster now," Mai informed me, and I could hear she was
breathing harder. "Okay, me too," I said. "Not too fast," she said, "You have to make
yourself last as long as I do. The idea is for us to cum together." "Ok," I agreed. "Im
rubbing myself in little circles. Can you picture it?" Mai asked. "Yes!" I exclaimed.
Indeed I could imagine her ultra-long nails, glistening with her juices, going round and
round as she fingered her wet, pink pussy. "Im imagining your dick. Its really hard,
isnt it?" she said. "Yes," I said. "Im putting my finger inside me now," she panted,
followed by a little squeal and then a laugh. "Whats so funny?" I asked. "I thought of
all the girls on my floor, who always are asking me how I can do anything because my
nails are so long," she snickered. A wave of adrenaline washed over me, and I let go of
my dick quickly otherwise I would have cum. Mai continued, "The girls here all say I
should cut my nails. I dont understand. Where I come from, some girls have very long
nails and some dont, but nobody tries to pressure the others to conform." "American
girls are like that," I said, "Dont pay any attention to them." "What about you, Gary?
Do you think my nails are too long? Shall I cut them for you?" she asked. "N-n-n-no!" I
said, in what could best be described as a pitiful whimper. "Its ok, you can tell me the
truth. Ill cut them if you think theyre not sexy," she said. "I do think theyre sexy, so
dont cut them!" I said emphatically, scared she was about to grab for the clippers.
"Relax, I was just testing you, Gary. I know you think my nails are sexy. You think I
didnt know you kept looking at them, but it was really obvious the first time we met,"
she said. "Im glad youre not upset or angry," I said. "I have nails to be sexy, so why
would I not be pleased that you think they are sexy?" she asked with genuine confusion.
"I dont know, but American girls even if they have nails, seem to think its creepy if a
guy gets excited by their fingernails," I explained. "Most American boys think its
creepy that I also have long toenails, as is the custom with some girls where I am from,
but when I put my toes up on the fence, and I saw the desire in your eyes, thats when I
decided I will make you my boyfriend," Mai confessed. "Are you sure you dont want
me to come over?" I asked hopefully. "Would you like to feel me scratch my nails on
you?" she asked. "Oh God yes!" I blurted. Mai laughed. And then she began moaning
rapidly. "Im going to cum any second, Gary. Start jerking yourself! Please! Hurry!
Cum with me!" she pleaded, "Think about my nails, how long and sexy and dangerous.
Think how I would scratch your back when I cum. Think of how I will curl my toes
when I cum. Think of my long, hot toenails, how I would rub them up and down your
legs…" In a harmony of her soprano squeals and my baritone grunts, we came
simultaneously. After a long pause with lots of gasping for air, Mai said sweetly, "Good-
night Gary." "How about tomorrow?" I gasped, "Meet me at the library again?"
"Maaaybeee," she drawled.
(…..to be continued)
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Part 10
Long Nails Journey Into Night (Part 10) … by Gary B.
The next day I made sure to be at the library well before eight. I was still standing there
alone at eight-twenty, debating with myself whether to call Mai or just play it cool.
Finally at eight-thirty-five I called her dorm room and she picked up. "Oh…I forgot,"
was all she said in the way of an explanation for standing me up, and in lieu of an
apology offered to engage me in phone sex again as she had the night before. I
explained that I was still at the library and would call her when I got home. I raced back
to my dorm, but when I called Mai her line was busy…and remained so for the next two
hours. Finally I turned out the lights and went to sleep. Suddenly I was jarred awake by
the telephone ringing. "Hello?" I answered, groggy. "Hi, Gary," Mai said cheerfully,
without asking if shed awakened me despite that my voice couldnt have left a trace of
doubt I had been sound asleep. "I tried calling you forever," I said yawning. "I left the
phone off the hook by mistake," she said, but something made me suspect it hadnt been
accidental. "Do you want to…," she started. "I dont know if Im up for phone sex
now," I said looking at my clock that said 4:33 AM. "Actually I was going to ask if you
wanted to come over," Mai said, "But I guess youre right, its really late. Sleep tight,
Gary. " She hung up, and I banged my head against the wall a few times cursing myself
for being an idiot trying to beat a girl at her own game. Unable to go back to sleep, I
watched as my window shade gradually grew brighter as dawn approached.
That day I tried calling Mai before dinner, but there was no answer. Dejected, I headed
out to the library and found a deserted table where I spread my books out and threw
myself into studying. About eleven oclock I felt warm breath against my face and at the
same time heard a light clicking on the table-top. I glanced from my notes to see Mais
unmistakable very long fingernails tapping, and as I turned toward her she planted a wet
kiss on my cheek. "Come with me," she whispered, sliding her hands down the front of
my shirt. "Im almost done studying," I said. "Are you sure you arent done now?" she
whispered into my ear while pressing with her fingers and scratching her nails up the
front of my shirt so I could hear them scrape and feel them on my chest. I couldnt catch my
breath, and I jumped to my feet and gathered my books and notes in a frenzy. Mai smiled
as she led me across the room to where there was a long row of little one-person study
cubicles, and opened the door to the last one. Glancing around to be sure nobody
noticed, Mai pulled me inside and shut the door and closed the blinds. She eased me into
the single chair and sat on my lap. A smile, a gentle caress of my cheek with her
astounding long fingernails, and she engaged me in the longest, hottest kiss of my life.
We made out for a long time. Mai had the most succulent, plump lips one can imagine,
and she made little contented moans while she kissed me, enveloping my head with her
hands and running her fingers through my hair. Her extraordinarily-long fingernails
made a soft crackling sound as she scratched my scalp lightly and sensually, and brushed
my ears with the side edges of her thumbnails which were probably an inch and a half
long. Mai turned and sat with her back against me. She leaned her head against my face
and her silky hair brushed my lips, and the smell of her shampoo wafted up my nostrils.
She took my hands and wrapped my arms around her waist, and she began to grind her
hard little ass on my lap. I put my hands over her little breasts, but she gently brought my
hands back down to her waist. "I didnt think youd mind," I said. "I wont…when the
time is right. Going slow is sexier," she whispered. "Ok," I acknowledged, although
slow was definitely not the way I wanted to go. Mai kicked off her flats and put her feet
up against the edge of the counter, and she reached down between her legs and put her
hand on my fly. She oohed with delight when she felt how hard I was, and she rubbed
my crotch in circles with the palm of her hand. "Oh God," I gasped. "Am I doing
something wrong?" she asked with phony innocence. "Maybe we should get out of
here? Go back to your room?" I asked hopefully. "Youre rushing again," she said.
"Im sorry," I said. "Apology accepted," she said…and began stroking my crotch
rithymically with the tips of her extremely-long fingernails. "Mai! Youre going to
make me mess my pants!" I gasped. "If you cant handle this, how will you ever last
long enough to please me in bed?" she whispered. "This is completely different!" I said
very defensively. With a deep sigh, Mai suddenly stopped stroking my crotch with her
long fingernails. My head started to pound and I held it in my hands.
Mai got off my lap and hopped up on the counter where she sat with her legs folded.
She looked sympathetically at me rubbing my temples, and she unfolded her legs and put
her feet against my shoulders. She moved her feet to my neck, then put her soles against
my cheeks, and began massaging my temples with her toes. "Does that feel better?" she
asked. "Yes, its…," I began, but my words caught in my throat when I felt her long
toenails dig lightly. "Its…what?" she asked. I took her feet in my hands and she
wiggled her toes and giggled softly. Her feet were small and delicate, her toenails long,
but beautifully contoured and sparkling clean. "Have people ever told you you have
really beautiful feet?" I asked. "Lots…but youre the first guy," she said. "Shit. That
was really gay," I laughed nervously, regretting the remark. "Do you think theyre sexy,
or just beautiful?" Mai asked. "Definitely sexy!" I said. "In that case…definitely not
gay," she laughed. "Are your feet ticklish?" I asked, brushing the marshmallow-soft part
of her soles below her toes with my thumbs. Mai shook her head. "Not at all," she said,
gently pushing her feet forward until the tips of her toenails were against my lips,
"Actually, I love to have them kissed but most guys wont do it." I noticed the slight
aroma of perspiration and leather, and wasnt certain I wanted to oblige her, but she
quickly added, "It turns me on so much I cant control myself." That was all I needed to
hear.
I placed a little kiss on the pad of her big toe, and then on each of the others. She gently
wrested her right foot from my grip and while I continued kissing her left toes, touched it
to my face. Suddenly she blurted out, "Gary, what I really meant is that I like to have my
toes sucked." I smiled and put my lips over the tip of her second toe. "If you want to put
them all into your mouth its ok," she informed me, though obviously she meant thats
precisely what she wanted me to do. I opened my mouth and Mai put her little foot deep
inside and wiggled her toes. Feeling the sharpness of her long toenails with my tongue
was incredible, and at the same time Mai was stroking her right toenails down my cheek
over and over slowly. Eventually she made me switch to her right foot, and she stroked
the other side of my face with her left toenails which were wet from my saliva. When
she was thoroughly satisfied, she thanked me and rested her feet on my thighs. "Please
dont think Im rushing you, but…," I began, hoping she was as ready as I was to go back
to her dorm. "I really like you, Gary," she said, "Thats why I especially dont want to
rush. I want us both to enjoy every second when we are together." "Oh, I do enjoy every
sec…oh God!" I gasped, when Mai put her feet in my lap and began rubbing my crotch
with her toes and scraping with her long toenails. "Mai! Please! I meant it, youre going
to make me make a mess in my pants!" I implored her in a harsh whisper. "So do you
want me to stop?" she asked. "Of course I dont want you to, but I think you had better,"
I sighed. "So ask me to stop," she said. "Ok, Mai, will you please stop?" I begged. "No,
I will not," she whispered with her succulent, glistening lips curled in a puckish smile,
and she started scraping my crotch faster, making long strokes with her toenails.
"Please!" I whined. Mai grinned and shook her head. I grabbed her ankles, but her legs
were surprisingly strong and she kept at it. Finally I jumped to my feet. Mai laughed and
she put her arms around my neck and gave me a long, hot kiss. When I felt her start to
rub my crotch with her knee I backed away gasping, "Mai! Why are you intent upon
making me cum in my pants?" "I told you, Im training you to last so that when we have
sex you can rock my world," she laughed with a sexy toss of her long black hair with
bronze streaks. Mai was radiantly, heavenly beautiful…dark, sexy Asian eyes sparkling;
plump, wet lips begging to be kissed. I smiled at her like a love-struck fool, and she
caressed my face with her incredible, long, slim, clear fingernails. "Lets go back to your
dorm now," I begged. "I want it just as much as you do, Gary," Mai said softly, "But the
moment has to be absolutely perfect." I had no idea what that meant, nor what was
imperfect about this moment, but the plain fact was I had to abide by her will. "Ok," I
sighed with resignation. "Are you going to kiss me goodnight?" she asked. I held her
and we kissed for a long time, there in that tiny little cubicle, her pressing me against the
door, stroking my neck and back with her incredible long fingernails. Suddenly she
started rubbing my crotch with her knee, and before I could utter a protest, she held my
lower lip gently between her teeth and chewed it lightly…while she reached down and
began stroking my crotch with her long fingernails, faster, harder, more urgently, faster
still. "Mai!" I gasped and held her wrist. Mai smiled. "See, youre getting better," she
laughed, "Before, if I had done it like that you would have blown for sure. At this rate it
wont be long at all before we have sex." Then she eased past me into the hall and waved
her sexy long fingernails at me as she turned and walked away. I stood there as she
walked down the hallway, listening to the sound her flats made as first they peeled from
her little damp soles with a light smacking, and then struck the wooden floor sharply,
while her ass-cheeks rolled sensuously inside her thin skirt with each step.
I got back to my dorm around 11:30PM, and I flopped onto my bed and relieved myself
of the un-spent load Mai had left me with. Almost the moment I finished shooting, the
phone rang. It was her. "Youre like a second too late!" I laughed, a little out of breath.
"I wasnt calling to have phone sex, Gary," she said pointedly. "Oh," I said, not sure
then why she was calling, or why she seemed irritated. "I was calling to invite you over,"
she said in a very sexy voice, "But since you already…" "No! I mean, yes! Yes, Ill
come right over!" I exclaimed. "Come as fast as you can!" she pleaded urgently, "I really
want you here, right now." I could hear rapid clicking in my ear, and I knew she was
drumming her incredible long fingernails on the receiver impatiently. I dashed out the
door and raced across campus.
Heaving out of breath I arrived at Mais dorm. The front door was locked, and I banged
on it frantically, hoping there was somebody in the lobby who would let me in. Having
no luck, I called Mai on the security phone and, somewhat annoyed, she agreed to come
downstairs. She arrived wearing a white silk robe and red bamboo flip-flops, her long
black hair with chestnut streaks flowing freely, looking more seductive than I thought
possible. I smiled at her and pointed to the doorknob. She smiled back…but instead of
immediately opening the door, Mai put her palms flat against the glass and tapped with
her perfect, long fingernails. She licked her plump upper lip, and bit her lower. Glancing
quickly to be sure nobody was around, she undid her robe and pressed her nude front
against the glass door. "Kiss me," she mouthed silently, and pressed her succulent lips
against the glass. I started to pant, but I did as she did, and we "kissed" through the pane.
Mai stepped back slowly closing her robe, and took her time opening the door. I lunged
to embrace her, but she held me off with her hand. "Someone will see us," she said
anxiously. "So?" I said. "So, I do not wish myself to be the subject of stupid dorm
gossip," she told me, "Now lets go…quickly. Boys arent allowed on the floors after
midnight."
Mai took my hand and whisked me through the lobby and around a corner. Eschewing
the elevator for the less-used stairs, she led me quickly up the five flights to her floor, and
then down the hall to her door, all the time anxious that no one see us. She practically
shoved me into her room, and without warning she jumped up, wrapped her arms and
legs around me, and kissed me with burning passion. When it was over, still clinging to
me she gave me a smile that said "I own you." And there was no denying, she did.
Slowly Mai slid off me, and took my hand. She led me to her bed and gently sat me
down. I beckoned her, but she just smiled and wagged her inch-and-a-half long pointer
fingernail at me teasingly. Without a word, Mai carefully brushed aside whatever was on
top of her desk, and sat up on it facing me. She opened her robe and, spreading her legs,
placed her feet at opposite ends of the desk-top, and she leaned back against the wall. I
gaped at her pussy, and it gaped back, wet and glistening. Licking her soft pink tongue
around her plump, tender lips, Mai half-closed her eyes and began to slowly caress her
smooth thighs, forming shadowed indentations in her soft skin as she pressed with her
ultra-long nails. After a while, she began to stroke her pussy lips with the sides of her
very long, straight thumbnails, like a goddess strumming the strings of a lyre. Mai sighed
and moaned contentedly, lost in her own bliss. I was as much fascinated as aroused, and
I sat quietly watching her, not wanting to disturb her performance. Soon she began
rubbing her pussy in little circles with her fingers, which were splayed flat, which I
imagined was to keep from scratching herself with her long, sharp nails. But it wasnt the
case, because to my astonishment, Mai slid two fingers deep inside her and began
working them in and out slowly. She curled her toes and I could hear her long toenails
scrape the wooden desk-top. Suddenly she thrust one beautiful leg out at me and
wiggled her foot urgently while uttering a whine/moan. I knew from the library what she
wanted, and obligingly I cradled her ankle and began to suck her toes. Licking around
her sharp, long toenails made me re-aware of my own desperate arousal, and I started to
stand. But Mai pulled her foot back, and whispered, "Dont rush, ok?" I was panting
like mad, but I took a deep breath and said, "Ill try." "Try hard," she said, resting her
foot in my crotch, "And speaking of hard…" "Oh god, if you do that Ill never make it!"
I cried. "Really…" she said with a twinkle in her dark, asian eyes, and she slid off the
desk and got down on her knees in front of me. She put her hands on my thighs near my
crotch and pressed with her long fingernails, and then dragged them back toward my
knees. "Do you want me to take it out?" I asked hopefully, reaching for my belt. "No,"
she said. "Oh. Ok," I said with frustrated dejection. "I want to take it out," she smiled.
Mai deftly worked my belt open and unzipped my fly without looking, keeping her eyes
fixed on mine as though intensely interested in savoring my every reaction. Suddenly her
nails were inside my underpants and all over my dick as she freed it over the elastic
waistband. She worked my briefs down comfortably, and she leaned forward and blew
softly on my throbbing cock. "Some guys like that," she observed. "Uh huh!" I nodded.
"Some guys like this," she said, and placed a wet kiss on the head. "Yeah!" I panted.
"And this," she smiled, and slowly licked her warm, butter-soft tongue around the rim.
"Youre driving me insane!" I cried. Mai laughed. "Most guys like this," she said, and
took my entire cock into her hot mouth, wrapped her plump lips around the base, and
gripping tightly, slowly sucked the length of my shaft, letting it pop out of her mouth at
the top of the stroke. "Are you trying to make me cum?!" I demanded with exasperation.
"If I was, I would stroke it with my nails," she said staring intently into my eyes with a
look that told me unmistakably that she had me completely figured out…and the look I
returned her evidently confirmed it, because she smiled with satisfaction. "Your turn
now," she said suddenly, hopping back up on the desk and spreading her legs. Eagerly I
stood up and came toward her. Mai laughed at my innocence, and she put her hands on
my shoulders and pressed down until I was on my knees. Id never eaten a girl out
before, and recalled all the negative things other guys had said about it, and the stigma
they attached to doing it. But I would have done anything Mai wanted at that point…and
obviously, that was what she wanted. She held my head in her hands and guided me to
do it exactly right for her. I could feel her nails against the back of my neck, and the
more she liked what I was doing, the harder she dug and scratched. Soon she pressed her
feet against my sides and scraped with her long toenails, as her breathing quickened and
her sighs grew more vocal. In a few moments every muscle in her body contracted and
she dug all twenty of her long nails in painfully for several seconds, until gradually her
pressure lightened and she relaxed with a deep, contented sigh. Mai slid off the desk and
whispered, "Hold me," as she melted into my arms and we settled on the bed. "Tighter!"
she pleaded. I squeezed her against me and she purred like a kitten. I tilted her head
back and kissed her, meanwhile I slipped my other hand down and massaged the small of
her back, and then on to her ass---it was much firmer than I had imagined---and she
wrapped her legs around me and kissed harder. As soon as the kiss ended, Mai fastened
her plump lips to the side of my neck just below my ear, and as she suctioned my skin
into her mouth I could feel her gnawing lightly with her teeth. I knew it would leave an
enormous hickey that wouldnt be hidden by my shirt so despite the wonderful feeling, I
gently pulled her away. Mai gave me a defiant smile, and she slipped her hands up under
my shirt and scratched my back with her super-long fingernails. "I can do it harder if you
want," she said in such a way that I knew she knew I did…and without waiting for my
reply she clawed my back harshly. "Harder?" she asked, and again without waiting for a
response she scratched me again, with unbelievable gusto. I was amazed that with nails
that long she could press that hard without causing herself pain. My back was on fire,
and the way it throbbed long after made me certain she must have broken the skin. I
hadnt been scratched like that in ages, and as always it thrilled me indescribably.
"Would you like me to scratch you like that again sometime?" she asked earnestly. "God
yes!" I answered. "Then dont ever stop me from doing something that turns me on," she
warned, "Like for example, giving you a hickey." And she immediately re-attached her
mouth to the same spot on my neck as before and bit-suckled furiously.
I figured she was so turned-on she was ready, and I grabbed my dick and started trying to
put it into her. But Mai rolled sideways and closed her legs together. "Whats wrong?" I
asked. "Nothing," she said with a sweet smile, rolled me on my back, and placing her
hands on my knees, gently spread my legs apart. "You seemed really turned-on and I
thought maybe you wanted me inside you," I suggested hopefully. "I was, I am, and I
do," she said with a little laugh. "Well then…," I started. "You wouldnt want to miss
whats coming," she whispered, "Trust me." "But…," I began. "Trust…me," she said
slowly. "Ok," I replied meekly. Mai lay on her stomach between my legs and smiled at
me, and then looked at my dick which was standing at attention. She took a handful of
her long hair and draped it over my cock. The silkiness felt incredible against the super-
sensitive, throbbing head. "Do you like it?" she asked softly. "Mmm, yes!" I replied.
Mai looked up at me and said, "I was speaking to him," then looked back at my dick.
"He likes it," I said. "I know. He opened his little mouth and told me," she said, and
licked the pre-cum from my pee-hole with the tip of her tongue. Slowly she scratched
her very long fingernails up and down the top of my thighs, with her thumbnails
scratching my inner thighs. At first she did it very gently, but then raked harder and
harder until she was leaving bright red lines on my skin. "Tell me if my scratching hurts,"
Mai said. "Dont stop," I pleaded. "I didnt say I would stop. I just want to hear you say
it hurts," she said with a sensuous stare. "It does," I confirmed. "Im getting you really
hot, arent I," she said. "God yes!" I said. "Am I making you want me?" she asked.
"You know you are!" I exclaimed. "Yes I know. But again, I want to hear you say it,"
she replied, seeming slightly annoyed that I wasnt intuitively saying exactly what she
wanted me to. "I want you! I want you more than Ive ever wanted anyone," I told her.
"Would you like to put your cock inside me and screw me now?" she asked sitting
upright, with her knees bent so I could see her pussy. "More than anything in the
world!" I gasped, reaching for her. Mai shoved me back with her foot, and she laughed.
"Come on, Mai! Lets do it already!" I begged, struggling to sit up again. Mai grabbed
my thighs digging her long fingernails in with all her strength. "Ow! Ow! Ow!" I cried.
"Well screw when I say so," she stated angrily. "Ok, ok.," I said, "Im sorry!" "No, Im
sorry," Mai said contritely, "I should have stated it kinder."
"Please, lie back," Mai said, softly pressing me down with her beautiful feet. When I was
on my back, she smiled and pulled her knees up, slowly scratching me from chest to
crotch with her long toenails. They were surprisingly sharp, and left red lines in their
wake. She grasped my hard cock between her big toe and the next, squeezed my cock
firmly and worked it up and down slowly. She reached under and gently began to stroke
my balls with her very long fingernails. At the same time, she began to scratch my hip
with the long toenails on her other foot. "With all my fingers toes its like having two
girls do you at once," she observed. That made me get even hotter, and I started to pant.
Mai held one hand above my cock-head and opened and closed her fingers. "Beg me to,"
she said. "Please! Please! In gods name, please do it!" I begged. "Only if you promise
not to cum," she bargained. "I promise!" I said. "Are you sure you can hold off?" she
asked, "I mean, just look at my nails! Look how long they are. Imagine how theyre
going to feel on your cock." "Please! I promise I wont cum! Just do it already!" I
gasped. "Okay," Mai sighed with a shrug. Very slowly she lowered her hand until the
tips of her nearly two-inch-long nails almost touched the tip of my cock, and then
touched it feather-light. "Are you doing ok?" she asked. I nodded. "Sure?" she asked. I
nodded harder. Mai traced the side edge of her pointer nail around the rim of my cock-
head, first clockwise then counterclockwise. I clenched my teeth and took deep breaths
trying desperately not to explode. "You look like youre about to cum," Mai observed,
"Perhaps I should stop…" "No dont!" I gasped, "I can handle it. Really I can."
"Okay," she said sweetly, "If you think so." Mai placed her palm against my pee-hole
and closed her fingers together. Her fingernails were so long that they reached her toes
which were still gripping the base of my cock, and she picked her long toenails and
laughed. "How are you doing?" she asked. "Ok," I said quickly, took another deep
breath and held it. Slowly she stroked her thumbnail up and down the underside of my
cock. "Hanging in there?" she asked. "Yeah," I gasped. Mai stroked all her fingernails
up my shaft from the base, over the rim and off the head, then quickly placed them back
at the base and began to do it again. "Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!" I gasped. Mai took her
hand away quickly, and she reached under and behind my scrotum and pressed in with
her thumbnail. I returned instantly from the brink! "Thanks! How did you do that?" I
inquired. "Ancient Chinese secret," she smiled. "Really?" I asked. "Maybe. How
should I know? Im not Chinese," she laughed. "Where are you from?" I asked.
"Singapore," she replied. "So, that makes you…?" I pressed further. "Hot and sexy,"
she replied, "And makes you totally under my control."
Mai removed her thumbnail from pressing behind my scrotum and spread both hands
over my cock. She gave me a delicious look and flashed a smile. With her one foot she
pulled up on my dick, and put her other foot under my balls, then she pressed in with the
long nail of her big toe. "Totally under control," she nodded, and she began slowly
scratching all her long fingernails up from the base of my cock, then turned her hands and
scratched back down. Over and over she did it, occasionally stopping to stroke my pee-
hole apart with the sides of her very long thumbnails. I was gasping so hard I could
barely breathe, and my heart was pounding like it would explode…but the firm pressure
of her long toenail behind my scrotum kept me from cumming no matter how badly my
balls ached and my brain cried out for release. "So, should I be your girlfriend?" she
asked. "Y-y---y---y---eh-eh-sss…," I gasped. "Hmmm. I dont know…," she mused.
"P---please!" I croaked. "Well…you do eat pussy amazingly well. Maybe Id let you be
my boyfriend…if you promise to do it whenever I want," she said stroking my cock with
her ultra-long fingernails. "I promise!" I panted. "Ok, do it now," she said, instantly
letting go of my cock and lying back with her legs spread wide. "Now!?" I cried, feeling
a thunderous ache in my balls. "Yes now," she said, "I want it now!"
I got on my belly, pushing my rock-hard dick to one side so I wouldnt break it, crawled
so my face was in her crotch, and put my tongue in her hot, tangy pussy. Mai mewed like
a kitten, and when I began to suck and nibble her bud, she gasped, "Oh my god, youre
awesome," and she draped her hand over my head, dug her fingernails into my neck, and
clawed up and over the top of my head…which made my softening dick get hard once
again. Mai moaned contentedly, for Im guessing almost half an hour, until she began to
get louder. It took at least another fifteen minutes before she closed her thighs tightly
against my head and sat up, reached over me and raked me with her long fingernails from
the small of my back up to my shoulder blades, where she dug them in with all her
strength and she began to quake. In fact the entire bed with both of us in it shook and
rattled. I could hear her scrape the wall with her long toenails, and she reached back and
dug her fingernails into my sides and clawed up to my armpits. Her orgasm seemed to go
on forever. Finally I could feel her calming down, and she relaxed her thighs. I raised
my head and we smiled at each other. She was so beautiful, lying there breathing
heavily. Her breasts were very small, that her chest looked almost flat when she was on
her back, and yet lying there with her extremely long fingernails resting softly over her
small areolas, she was the epitome of feminine sexiness. I got on my knees and crawled
forward, leaving kisses up her flat little belly as I advanced. "Gary," she began. I started
to lick her, brushing her hands aside so I could suck her little nipples. "Gary," she
repeated. Brushing aside her long, flowing hair and depositing kisses on her neck, I took
my throbbing cock with my hand and pressed it to her pussy. "Gary? What are you
doing?" she asked. "I thought…," I began. "Im sorry. I cant," Mai sighed, "Not now.
I need to sleep. Im sorry. Dont hate me, please." She turned over on her side with her
back to me and buried her face in her pillow. "Ok. I can just hold you…like you like," I
offered. "I want you to, but if you fall asleep everyone will be in the hallway by the time
we wake up and youll be trapped. I think youd better go." "Kiss me?" I asked. Mai
rolled on her back and put her arms around me. Even exhausted, her kiss was electric,
and as she finished she caressed my cheek with her long fingernails and smiled
seductively. "Are you sure you….?" I began hopefully. "Ill see you tomorrow," she
whispered, and then she turned away and closed her beautiful eyes.
As I walked home I didnt recall having ever been that horny before in my life. My head
and my balls ached with equal intensity. All the way home despite trying to think
distracting thoughts, my mind would return to Mai and I would get hard. By the time I
trudged up the stairwell to my floor I was thoroughly miserable, and all I wanted was to
get to the bottle of aspirin in my desk drawer, and then to collapse on my bed and try to
pass out. As I came down the darkened hall I made out the silhouette of a girl with long
hair sitting on the floor by my door leaning against the wall. I didnt know how Mai beat
me back to my dorm, and I didnt care. My heart started racing, and I walked faster until
I was almost sprinting. "You have no idea how glad I am youre here!" I shouted.
"Wow! Thanks!" she said, looking up and stretching her arms to embrace me, "I was
afraid youd be mad." I froze in my tracks like a deer in headlights. "Natalie?!" I
gasped.
…(to be continued)
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Part 11
Long Nails Journey Into Night (Part 11) … by Gary B.
I must have looked as shocked as I felt. I hadnt seen Natalie in almost two years, and
didnt think I ever would again. "Ohmygod, you were expecting someone else, werent
you!" she said slapping her forehead, "Im such an idiot. Im so sorry. Ill go." "Dont
be ridiculous," I said, "I really am glad to see you. Come in and lets catch up." "You
sure?" she asked. "Sure Im sure," I said unlocking the door. Natalie slung her huge,
well-worn backpack over one shoulder and went in ahead of me. "Are you hungry?" I
asked, "Theres half a cold pizza in the fridge." "Sure you dont mind?" she asked
dropping her heavy pack on the floor. "Of course not!" I replied. I put my books on the
desk and cleared some junk off a chair, and reached for a box of paper plates. But by the
time I turned around, Natalie was sitting with the empty box on her lap from the pizza I
expected we would share, licking her fingers. She still had her long, untidy, uneven
fingernails. Greasy from pizza and with black dirt lines underneath, they still turned me
on as they always had for as long as I could remember. "Mind if I have a Pepsi?" she
asked, already popping the top with her long thumbnail. Natalie whisked her wild mane
of streaked blond hair off her face and smiled at me. "Damn! Its fucking great to see
you again, Gary," she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She burped, and
then she rustled in her backpack until she came up with a bag full of joints. "Get high
with me," she said flicking her lighter. "In a minute," I said. I found my aspirins and
took the Pepsi from Natalie to wash them down. "Sick?" she asked. "Nah, just a horrible
headache," I said. "College stress?" she asked. "Something like that," I responded.
Natalie kicked off her well-worn sneakers and rubbed her fingers between her toes. In
my tiny dorm room the smell of her feet was inescapable. So was the sight of her
familiar un-trimmed, dirty toenails. "Jesus I need a shower," she apologized, sniffing the
downy tufts of light-colored hair under her armpits, "Where is it?" "This is a mens
dorm," I informed her. "So?" she said, but in a second she sighed, "I forgot, Im back in
America. I can use the sink," she said glancing at the little wash basin on the wall. She
got up and without hesitation began to strip. "Ill go hang out down in the lounge," I
offered. "Why? Youve seen me naked millions of times," she said. "Yes but…," I
started. "Oh. I get it. Youve got a girlfriend," she said.
"Well, sort of. Not exactly yet, I wouldnt say shes my girlfriend. Its complicated," I
said. "That giant hickey on your neck doesnt say complicated to me," she chortled.
Natalie turned toward the wall and soaked a washcloth in the sink. She was tall, as tall as
me, and she had the sexiest ass Id ever seen. She turned slowly to face me, holding the
wet washcloth against her chest. Little rivers of soapy water cascaded over her
spectacular tits and raced along her smooth curves down her long, shapely legs, forming a
puddle around her feet on the tile floor. Physically, Natalie was everything Mai was not.
"You havent had sex with her yet," Natalie stated with confidence. "Why do you think
that?" I asked defensively. "The only time I ever saw you get a headache is when I got
you all hot and we were someplace we couldnt screw," she replied. "Ok. Brilliant
deduction, Holmes," I sighed. Natalie stated, "Lose her, Gary. Shes a cock-tease."
"Thats pretty presumptuous!" I retorted. "Shit Gary, even when I had my period I still
took care of you. She obviously wont even suck you off," Natalie said. "Weve only
seen each other a couple times," I explained. "Not even a hand-job," Natalie observed.
"Give me a break," I said. "How bout I give you what you really need," she said
suggestively, sweeping the wet cloth up from her ankles to her hips, and over her tuft of
snatch. For a moment I was torn. Natalie had a smoking body and a beautiful face, and
she was as sexually-liberated as they come. She would do anything I asked, with no
strings attached. And my balls still ached from my Mais protracted tease. But I
declined, not out of faithfulness to Mai, but because I couldnt stop thinking of Mais
meticulously-groomed and amazingly-perfect nails as I looked at Natalies grow-till-
they-break assortment. "Whatever," Natalie shrugged, "If you change your mind, the
offers still open." And with that she plopped her wet body on my bed and slid over
against the wall.
I stood there for a moment. "Do you want me to sleep on the floor?" Natalie asked with a
hint of hurt. "Dont be silly," I said. "Im not the one being silly," she said, "Just come
to bed and lets go to sleep." I shrugged and got into bed with her. "Youre not going to
take your clothes off?" she asked. Natalie sighed deeply and shook her head and said,
"Honestly, after living in Europe I realize just how fucking prudish Americans are." "Im
not prudish," I insisted, "Its just that, well, were broken-up." "We still care for each
other, dont we?" she asked. "Sure," I agreed. "So stop being an idiot and get
undressed," she said. I stood back up and stripped down to my briefs. "Undies too,"
Natalie said, and tried to pull them down. "Stop!" I cried, trying to be serious but unable
to keep from laughing on account of being very high. "Ive seen your dick plenty of
times," she smiled. "Go to sleep," I said. "Whatever," she said in a huff, and turned her
back to me. But as soon as I turned off the light, Natalie turned around and said, "Its so
insulting that you have your underpants on!" and snagged my briefs with her thumb, and
when she had them down to my knees she used her big toe to get them the rest of the way
off. For my attempts to stop her, I got a few accidental scratches from her long, un-
manicured finger and toenails. In my condition after Mai, thats all it took for my dick to
begin hardening. Natalie said, "Oh come on! Let me finish what your little cock-tease
started. Your headache will go away and youll sleep like a baby afterward." "Thanks
but no thanks… and stop calling her that," I told her. "Whats wrong with you, Gary?
Do you want me to leave?" she asked. "No, of course not, Natalie," I said, "But youve
been gone a long time, and Ive moved on." "Good for you," she said, in a way I wasnt
sure if she really meant it or was being sarcastic. But she kissed me sweetly on the
cheek and closed her eyes. I closed mine, and tried to fathom why the vision of Mais
incredible nails haunted me so deeply I was willing to snub the beautiful girl lying naked
in bed with me perfectly willing to fuck me.
I had nearly managed to drift to sleep when I suddenly became aware of a sharp sensation
traveling up and down my leg. I opened my eyes and Natalie was propped on one elbow,
just looking at me. "What are you doing?" I asked. "Scratching your leg with my
toenail," she said. "I know that!" I said trying to keep my composure. "So why did you
ask?" she asked. "I meant, WHY are you doing it?" I said. She put her lips right up to
my ear and whispered, "You know why." "What do you mean?" I asked trying to sound
innocent. "Did you think I hadnt figured out about your thing for long nails and being
scratched?" she asked as she continued stroking her toenail along my shin. I swallowed
hard. "Wow, I guess you did think I hadnt figured it out," she whispered and dragged
her fingernails lightly but firmly from my shoulder down my arm. "But obviously I did,"
she said, dragging her toenails from my knee up my inner thigh. "Ive known from the
day when we were kids and you treated me like I didnt exist after I cut my nails to take
piano lessons." "Oh my god. And you didnt hate me?" I asked incredulous. "It hurt,
but actually I blamed my mother, because she made me cut my nails," Natalie said, "And
later on when we were teenagers…well, I was horny and you were cute. And anyway I
had my long nails back, so I had no reason not to accept you as you are. I sort of got off
knowing I could make you nuts with my nails. Still can…" she said slipping her hands
under me and raking my back hard. My jaw dropped with a gasp---my back was already
raw from Mai---and Natalie filled my mouth with her tongue. She rolled me on top of
her and wrapped her long legs around me, guiding my throbbing hard cock into her hot
pussy. I came in a couple of seconds. "Shit!" I sighed. "Shit you came too quick or shit
you couldnt resist me?" Natalie asked brushing my face with her long fingernails.
"Well…," I began, not knowing how to respond. "Dont tell me. I dont really care. Im
really horny. Just fuck me," she said and she stroked her nails down my neck …and over
my shoulders, and across my back…harder and harder. She had me up again in
moments. I lost count of how many times we fucked that night, but I think it was a
record even for us.
It had been a long time since Id gotten that high, or fucked that much, and it was 10AM
and I was still dead to the world. I only awakened when Natalie stepped over me on her
way back from the bathroom. She was wearing only a fleece hoodie which barely
covered her crotch and was unzipped halfway down the front, and I imagined she must
have made quite a hit with the guys on my floor. "Good morning sleepy-head," she said
kissing my forehead, and she flopped down in the bed alongside me. "God Im
exhausted," I sighed. "Really? I wonder why," Natalie said facetiously. She reached
down to the ashtray on the floor and picked up a roach with her long nails; lit it, took a
long drag, and offered it to me while she held her breath. I tried to wave it away but she
insisted. "Youre going to kill me," she said. "Why?" I asked. "Cos I want you to fuck
me again," she whispered and sucked my earlobe. "Oh, Natalie! I cant!" I protested.
"Betcha you can," she said raking her long fingernails through my pubes. "I cant
move," I whined, even as I felt myself getting hard against my will. "You dont have to,"
she said, mounting me, "You can go to sleep for all I care." "I honestly think I could," I
groaned. Natalie rode me until she climaxed, and then fell over next to me and kissed
me. "You didnt cum," she said looking at my dick which was still standing at attention.
"Its ok, Im too tired to care," I said. "Bet I can make you care," she snickered, and
dragged her long fingernails quickly up my sides. "Jesus!" I gasped. "Told you I could,"
she said bringing her mouth to my cock. Natalie had always given the greatest head of
anyone I knew, and time had only improved her technique.
"How long are you staying?" I asked hopefully, holding her head against my chest,
stroking her wild, touseled blond-streaked hair. "I leave for Amsterdam tonight," she
said quietly. "Really? Oh. Ok," I said with unpleasant surprise. Natalie picked her head
up at the obvious dejection in my voice. "Come with me!" she begged. "Its the middle
of the semester," I observed. "So what? You can always go back to school, Gary," she
said, "But well never get this time in our lives back. Lets spend it together," she said.
"Are you saying you want a committed relationship?" I asked. Natalie buried her face in
her hands. "I hoped you might be over that possessive shit," she sighed. "Possessive
shit?!" I exclaimed, "You said lets spend it together. In my book, together means we
dont fuck other people." "Right now I dont want to fuck anyone but you," she said, "I
just dont want us to make promises to each other we cant keep." "I can keep that
promise, Natalie," I said emphatically. "Even if I cut my nails off again?" she asked and
rested her head back against my chest. I think it was at that moment that I realized I
loved her and always had. I felt her hot tears trickle down my chest, and knew she loved
me as well. We looked into each others eyes and wondered why we couldnt just love
each other free of the burdens of our psyches: her obsession for independence and mine
for long nails. Natalie reached into her backpack and took out another joint, and we both
got high again. After we were thoroughly stoned and couldnt focus on the angst of our
reality, we fucked like animals again, and then we both fell asleep.
We awoke with a start from a knock on the door. "Whos there?" I called out. "Its me,
Mai," came sweetly from beyond the door. "Just a second!" I cried, while Natalie and I
looked at each other in a panic, still stoned. I heard the knob turn and the door open.
"Shit! You didnt lock the door?!" I gasped. "Forgot," Natalie said. But it was too late.
Mai stood there for a moment, ashen and speechless. "Mai, its not like it looks!
Natalies my friend from when we were kids! Shes like a….a….cousin!" I blustered.
"Youre in bed naked together! How stupid do you think I am?" Mai screamed. "I take
it youre the cock-tease," Natalie said to Mai, "How stupid do you think Gary is? How
long did you think hed go around with blue balls before he fucked someone else?" Mai
turned to me with a look of abject betrayal and hate. "I wanted you as much as you
wanted me," she said coldly, "I denied myself for the same reason, to make our desires as
strong as could be. I came here now, because I could not bear another second to be
without you. The sex would have been better than your wildest fantasy. I would have
torn you apart." Mai made a grand flourish with her hands, her fingers curled. "Nice
nails," Natalie said, more to me than to her. Mai stamped her foot and grunted with
exasperation, then she turned and stormed for the door. "Mai! Wait! Let me explain!" I
cried. "Remember I told you if you ever cheated on me I would never speak to you
again," she said without turning around, and slammed the door behind her.
"This is my fault," Natalie said, picking her jeans up off the floor, "Im really sorry."
"No youre not," I said calmly. "Ok, Im not," she said, "That girl is a bitch, and totally
wrong for you. If she didnt have those nails you would see it, too." Natalie dressed and
picked up her backpack. "Dont go," I beseeched her. "I have to catch a bus to the city,
and then another one to the airport, so I should really get going," she said. "I mean, dont
go back," I said, "Stay here with me." Natalie tore a piece of paper from a notebook on
my desk and scribbled something on it. "Heres my address in Amsterdam," she said
stuffing the paper in my hand. Natalie took my face in her hands and kissed me softly,
and as she stepped back she let her long fingernails caress my cheeks. Then she turned
quickly and left.
I sat on my bed feeling as profoundly lonely as a person could. I lost two girls that
day…and twenty amazing, incredible long fingernails and toenails. I knew it was
pointless to try fixing things with Mai, and I knew the improbability of ever finding
someone as beautiful and seductive as her with nails that spectacular. I crumpled the
piece of paper with Natalies address and tossed it angrily in the waste basket. I picked
up the last little roach from the ashtray and managed to coax a couple tokes out of it,
thinking as I held it with a paperclip, of the way Natalie would pinch a joint between her
long, un-tended fingernails. I could feel myself beginning to get hard. I retrieved the
paper from the waste basket and opened my drawer to put it away for safekeeping.
Perhaps sharing Natalie with other guys wasnt as bad as not having her at all. I
unfolded the paper and stared at her sloppy yet unquestionably-feminine handwriting.
There below her address was a little note: "PS, Ive loved you since we were kids and I
always will. I dont want to fuck other guys, and I promise never to cut my nails."
Three weeks later I was holding that same piece of paper…standing at the door of a
narrow little row house along a canal in Amsterdam.
-
LUCKY IN VEGAS PT.1
LUCKY IN VEGAS PT.1
This short piece is the first in a series of "Nailhangers". Hope you enjoy it. Pete Russell plopped down in a seat in the waiting area. It was early Monday evening and he was at gate C28 of the Midfield Terminal of Dulles International Airport in the suburbs of Northern Virginia. He had picked a seat near the gate that gave him a good view of the waiting area. Never know what you might see while waiting for a plane. He quickly scanned the waiting women with a trained eye. "Nothing to get excited about here", he thought, "yet." He pulled out his ticket and looked at it. He had a direct flight to LAX in Los Angeles where he would catch a connecting flight to Los Vegas. At least he had a direct to LA. He checked his watch. They should announce boarding soon. He sighed and put his ticket back in the zippered pocket of his carry-on.
It was already late. He was sort of hacked off at this boss for making him work a full day before leaving. Now he had to take a late flight. Even with the time change it was going to be midnight before he got to his hotel room in Vegas. He was also hacked because his boss had sat on the paperwork to register, so instead of getting in one of the hotels really close to the convention center, he was at the MGM Grand. He had been told that was a swank hotel, but he appreciated convenience&emdash;especially when in a strange town. But he couldn't be too mad. He was sort of going on a boondoggle and was looking forward to a fun week. He was supposed to be going to a computer conference to see the latest and greatest and attend talks and sessions. In reality he was going to booze it up and party his butt off in Vegas and attend as little of the "talks and sessions" as he thought he could get away with.
For a computer-type, he was actually pretty good looking. He had just turned 31, was single, and had a decent build. He worked out in the gym (another good place for sightings). But like many computer-types he was painfully shy, which is one reason he was still single. He loved women. But unlike other guys who liked breasts, legs, butts, or whatever, his obsession was fingernails. The longer the better. He didn't know why, but he had always been attracted to them. Airports were great places for sightings, so he had his "antennas up". His favorite airports were Dallas Fort Worth and the one he was going to, LAX. For some reason there seemed to be lots of long-nailed beauties at those airports.
He had brought his company-owned laptop with him. For "note taking" and to "check my email" he had said. What he really wanted it for was to view the long fingernail pictures he had downloaded off the Internet. He had put a large collection of his favorites on a couple of floppies. What he really loved to do was to build a briefing file using PowerPoint with one picture on each "slide". He would then set it up in "slide show" mode with each picture displaying for 10 seconds or so. Then all he needed to do was sit back and enjoy as the pictures automatically displayed over and over. That left his hands free...
He was looking forward to getting to his hotel, relaxing with a drink, and firing up the laptop. He hoped he wouldn't be too tired or too late.
A flight attendant at the gate desk picked up the paging phone and started to make the usual boarding announcements. "...we'll be boarding by rows, anyone with small children or those requiring special assistance..." He waited for his row to be announced. Since he had three pieces of carry-on, counting his laptop, he wanted to be sure and get on right away to guarantee space in the overhead for his stuff. The attendant finally announced his row and he made his way to the gate. He held out his ticket to the attendant at the gate and checked out her hands as she took it. Nice nails he thought. Not too long but nice. He hoped she would be working the coach section. She gave him a big smile "have a nice flight."
"Thank you" he smiled back.
This was the part he hated&emdash;or at least one of the parts&emdash;waiting in a long, slow moving line to get to his seat. As he made his way into and through the plane, he checked out the nails of every flight attendant and every woman in first class. Nothing to get excited about.
He found his seat on the starboard side and stashed his garment bag and laptop in the overhead. Since it was a late flight, the attendants had put blankets and pillows on the seats. He picked up his blanket and pillow and sat down in his aisle seat and stuffed his cargo bag under the seat in front of him. He pondered for a second what to do with the blanket and pillow and laid them on the seat next to him. He was in a row of three seats. Maybe there would be no one else in his row and he could stretch out, he wondered.
As it turned out, the flight was lightly populated and he started to wonder if he would be by himself. As the last passengers took their seats, he saw that the plane was only about a third full and so far the seats next to him were still empty. For once he would have the luxury of room! Then he looked up and saw a late boarder. She was a stunningly beautiful women with long, straight blond hair with bangs. She looked to be around 27-28. She was tall and willowy with a short, tight leather skirt, dark stockings on extremely long and shapely legs, and pert, full breasts beneath her tight sweater. She was obviously a women that worked out. He couldn't quite see her hands though, since she was carrying her bags. He noticed that she was wearing red high heels on very shapely, small feet.
Then she paused and dropped one bag and lifted her hand to look at her boarding pass. His heart stopped. She had the most beautiful nails he had ever seen. They were all long, maybe 2 inches or more past her fingertips, uniform in length and shape, and painted a brilliant day-glo pink. They had just the slightest curve to them. Oh please, he pleaded to himself, let her sit somewhere close so I can look at those nails!
She picked up her bag again and shuffled down the narrow aisle looking at the row numbers on the overhead bins and stopped in front of him. She looked at Pete and smiled "I'm sorry, I have the window seat" she said, pointing with a long pink nail at the seat.
"Oh, OK" stammers Pete. He gets up and steps into the aisle. She starts to lift up her carry-on to put it in the overhead compartment. "Here, let me help you" offers Pete. He takes her bag. As he does, her nails lightly trail against his fingers. He lifts and places her bag next to his.
"Thank you" she murmurs looking into his eyes. Her eyes are a piercing blue and wonderfully make up. Long lashes. Moist. Bedroom eyes. Now, close to her, he can smell her intoxicating perfume.
She starts to try and get to her seat, but it is awkward and she starts to loose her balance. She reaches out and puts her hand on his chest to steady herself. He can feel her nails through his shirt. "Oh, sorry" she says.
"Not a problem" he says. You can touch me all you want, he thinks. She takes her seat and starts rummaging in her handbag. He takes his seat and hears the flight attendants securing the hatch. There will be no other passengers. It is just her and him in that row all the way to LA. There is an empty seat between them&emdash;but she is so close!
He glances over at her. She sees him looking and smiles as she takes a magazine out of her bag and places the bag under the seat in front of her. She reaches up and turns on the light with a long pink nail and starts to read. It's a copy of Nails magazine. His heart is beating like a drum. What can he say? He must say something to meet this woman! He can't help but stare at her long, perfect nails. Now that she is closer he can see that they are each at least 2 inches long. Pink and shiny with just the slightest curve. Just the kind that really turn him on. His crotch swells as he gets an erection. It's going to be a long, wonderful flight, he sighs.
She notices him staring at her nails with a sidelong glance and just smiles. He could swear she looked at his crotch as he looks away embarrassed. He picks up his own book and tries to concentrate on it, but he keeps reading the same paragraph over and over. All he can think about are those nails. Periodically he steals a glance. Eventually the flight attendants start the beverage service before the meal. As the beverage cart gets close to them, she puts her magazine down and lowers her tray. She looks over at Pete and extends her hand "By the way, my name's Serena Boudreau. You are?"
Pete reaches to take Serena's hand and as he does, she pokes him "accidentally" with one of her nails. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I poke you?" she asks innocently. Her hands are warm and she gives his hand a gentle squeeze. He could swear she poked him deliberately.
"Oh, that's OK" he says. "I'm Pete Russell. Do you live in LA?"
"Actually, I live in New York" Serena purrs. But I'm on my way to Vegas for a convention."
"Oh really?" says Pete. Now this was interesting. "So am I. Are you going to the UNIX Developer's Conference?"
"Oh god no!" giggles Serena. "I'm going to NailShow West. It's being held at the MGM Grand."
Pete's mind begins to race. A nail show at his hotel! And she is going to be there! Was he dreaming? "What's NailShow West?" he asks innocently.
She smiles and lowers her eyelids "Somehow I think you know" she chides, "but if you don't, it's a big trade show for people in the nail business. I have my own company called US Nail and we're an exhibitor at the show. We make a variety of nail products but my big item right now is a revolutionary nail hardener. Go ahead, feel them." She extended her hand to him. He couldn't believe what was happening. He reached up timidly and touched her nails.
"I said feel them" she said again for emphasis. The way she said it sounded almost like a command. This time he carefully felt and examined her nails. They were incredibly healthy, smooth, and strong.
"I call the product "Tempered Steel" and I'm announcing it at the show" she explains. "Its got silica in it and makes nails absolutely rock hard and virtually unbreakable. Sort of like what happens when bones turn into fossils. You can grow them as long as you want" she smiles, then leans over closer to him and repeats deeply, drawing out the words, "Just-as-long-as-you-want."
He now has a full blown erection and wonders if she notices. She continues, "Listen,
it's kind of awkward talking across this seat, why don't you move over for the meal? Then it will be easier to talk."
"Sure" he says. Anything to get closer to those nails. He unbuckles his seat belt and lifts the arm rest to slide over. The enormous bulge in his crotch is quite obvious. She glances at it but pretends to take no notice. Again with that little smile.
As they wait for the food, she drums her nails lightly on the tray looking over at him playfully, just loud enough for him to hear. He can't help but watch, savoring every moment. They are so long and beautiful, so perfect. She notices, and smiles. She's deliberately teasing me, he thinks. Oh if only they weren't on this plane!
During dinner, she does things to tease him while she eats her food. She holds bits of food in-between her thumbnail and index finger nail and eats it, making sure he sees. She uses her nails to pull apart her dinner roll with her fingers never touching the roll, just her nails. At one point she turns to him to lick some sauce off a nail, putting her nail to her mouth and licking it with her pink tongue.
Pete starts to wonder if he is going to have to excuse himself and go to the lavatory and relieve himself. His hard-on is beginning to ache. But he doesn't want to miss a second of this performance.
After they have finished eating, Serena starts to talk about how different guys like different things. Some like legs, some like breasts, some likes asses. She turns to Pete and puts her hand on his thigh, brushing her nails against his leg and whispers in his ear "And you like nails don't you Pete?"
Totally flustered and taken aback he stammers "Ye-ye-yes. Big time."
Now she brushes her nails up his arm and whispers again, her mouth right in his ear "My nails really turn you on don't they?"
"Oh god yes" he moans. His erection is somehow even bigger, harder than before, straining at the fabric in his crotch. He can feel a wet sensation on the tip of his penis. He wonders if his cock is going to explode.
She continues whispering in his ear, now gripping his arm with her nails "After they pick up the trays, they'll show the movie. Everyone will turn out their lights. If you want, we can have some fun then. Everyone will be watching the movie, and anyway, there's hardly anyone on board. No one will notice. That is of course, unless you'd rather watch the movie?"
"Y-y-yes, I mean n-n-no" he stammers.
She raises the armrest between them and moves a bit closer to him. "There," she says, "that will be more comfortable. Why don't you lower the other one?" she asks. "That will keep you nice and snug next to me." He obeys. He didn't care what was going to happen next or what anyone would think. There was no way he was going to miss this!
Finally the flight attendants came through the cabin and removed the food trays. Pete thought it would never happen. Serena raised her fold down tray and tells him to do the same. "Don't need that in our way" she says.
She holds his hand while they are waiting, and lets him feel her nails. She runs them up his palm and lower arm. "Not much longer" she says.
The movie finally starts and overhead lights are turned off all around. The flight attendant requests others to turn off their lights to make it easier to see the movie. Serena reaches up and pokes the light button with her nail.
"Now," she whispers in his ear, "take the blanket and drape it over you like you're going to sleep. Recline your seat all the way back." He does. She also takes a blanket and puts it over herself, overlapping her blanket with his, and reclines her seat
"Now close your eyes" she says. He does. He feels her hand slowly move to his crotch under the blankets and start to stroke his cock through the fabric of his pants. He is so hard he just knows he is going to burst. She starts to try and unbutton his pants but has trouble since the pants are now so tight because of his erection.
"My nails are so long I can't unbutton your pants" she whispers. "Please help me." He unfastens his belt, and unbuttons his pants while she rubs and cups his genitals.
"Now relax" she says as she slowly lowers his zipper, "and remember, no matter what, you must be quiet." With her long nails jabbing and poking him in the most wonderful way she digs into his underwear and finally frees his straining cock. Slowly she strokes his cock up and down using only her nails. Then she concentrates just on the bulging head, lightly scraping and stroking. He has to bite his lip to keep from moaning. He feels her starting to poke one nail into the hole at the tip of his penis. He stiffens, wondering what she is going to do. "Relax" she says. She slowly inserts it a bit, moving it from side to side as she gently runs her nails up the shaft of his penis. She inserts the nail a bit deeper. He gasps. "Shh" she says.
"Do you like this?" she asks. He nods, his eyes closed. The pleasure is so intense. "Is this what you wanted?" she asks. Again he nods. "You and I, we're going to have lots of fun in Vegas" she whispers and slides her tongue in his ear. He had been so caught up in the moment that he had not even considered this! Good lord! If this could only go on and on for the whole trip!
She continues stroking and stroking, just with her nails, all the way up and down his shaft. Finally he can stand it no longer and erupts, spewing his molten fluid all over the underside of the blanket, and all over her beautiful hands. Lubricated with his own cum, she continues the stroking. His penis is now so sensitive that while she does this, the pleasure is so intense that he almost wants her to stop. Almost.
She cups the tip of his penis with her long thumbnail and moves it about. The rest of her beautiful, perfect nails curl around his shaft and gently stroke up and down. He wonders if he is going to get another erection so this absolute heaven can continue but his erection subsides. "You've made quite a mess" she says quietly. With her other hand she pulls a pocket size package of tissues from her purse. She pulls several out and starts to wipe off his penis slowly underneath the blanket, squeezing the tip gently. "I want to get every drop" she says smiling.
"Now that I've taken care of your needs, you need to take care of mine." She says.
"Yes, yes, anything" he says, wondering what would happen next.
"I'm going towards the lavatory at the rear of the plane. Wait exactly 5 minutes" she instructs him, "then walk on back and I'll meet you."
He removes the messy blanket, crams it under the seat in front of him, and gets up to let her out. She slides out with a smile and a "thank you" and walks towards the rear of the plane. He watches her walk for a bit in her high heels. What a beautiful ass he thinks to himself. Just look at her walk.
He sits back down and waits. There's no thinking about what is going to happen next. He knows he must. He has never wanted to do anything so bad in his entire life.
After the requested five minutes have gone by, he gets up and walks to the rear of the plane. No one really notices, they're all watching the movie. She's in the back, just casually staring out the window. There are no flight attendants near. There's no one in the lavatories. Everyone is watching the movie or sleeping. The drone of the engines is loud and muffles any sounds. They are alone. She reaches up to his shoulders and clutches them, digging her nails into him. She bends him down and kisses him gently at first, then thrusts her tongue eagerly into his mouth. Her breath is hot and sweet. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her to him and grabs that marvelous ass.
She reaches down with one hand and grips his crotch, her nails digging into his penis. He is already hard&emdash;again. With her other hand she reaches behind his head and bends his ear down to her mouth, all the time stroking the back of his head with her nails. She breaths into his ear "You love my nails don't you? I knew you'd get hard again&emdash;easy. All I have to do is touch you, or show you my nails and you get hard." She gripped his penis with just her nails for emphasis. "You're going to fuck me whenever and wherever I want. You make me happy, and I'll make you happy. Happier than you've ever been. Right now you're going to fuck me on this plane! Go in the lavatory and sit down on the toilet lid, I'll come in after you."
He knew he had to. He entered the lavatory, sat down, and closed the door but doesn't lock it. She looks around to be sure no one is watching, and then opens the door and squeezes in. It is very tight with both of them in the tiny lavatory. She manages to close the door and lock it, and turns to him with a smoldering look in her eyes...
-
LUNCH-TABLE LUST
LUNCH-TABLE LUST
When I was about fifteen I was still rather introverted and shy with girls, and tended to sit
at a table with my mates every day for lunch. Most of the girls did likewise. But there
were a couple of tables where individualsoutcasts as it weresat separated from one-
another, eating in solitude. One day I happened to glance over at one of those tables and
there was a girl who caught my eye. Or, more properly, her hands caught my eye. From
far across the room I detected white tips on her fingers and immediately my nail-radar
sounded-off inside my head. The next day I saw her again, and decided to get a closer
look, so I took a seat at her table, allowing a sufficient distance not to make it appear we
were eating together. She was what one would call a "nerd" in to-days universal jargon.
She was slim and wore no make-up, not even lipstick. Her lips were rather plump and
her two front teeth were a bit rabbit-like. She dressed in a sloppy, haphazard style and
her long black hair was rather wooly, and she kept it tied back with an elastic. She had
thick, dark eyebrows and wore spectacles, which made her gray eyes look smaller than
they actually were. But then there were her hands. She had delicate hands with slender
fingers, and her fingernails were more than a centimeter long, straight, square-tipped and
snow-white. If I looked at them straight-on from the front they formed nearly perfect
half-circles. I observed from the way she used her tableware that she was left-handed,
and whilst she ate she read from a textbook that was open on the table beside her, and
unconsciously clicked her right-hand nails on the tabletop. Occasionally she scratched
her head and I could hear the sound her nails made against her scalp. Once she scratched
an itch on her left arm and I could see the white tracks her nails made. I did all my
observing surreptitiously of course, not wanting to alert her that I was watching her.
Especially, I didnt want her to sense that I was fascinated with her nails. But I had to
wait several minutes after shed left before I could stand, lest the entire room see the tent
in my trousers.
The following day I sat at a different table, trying to be coy, but the day after that I sat at
her table again. "If youre expecting your mates Ill leave," I said. She looked up and
with a very slight hint of a shy smile simply shook her head a little and lowered her eyes
to her book. "What are you reading?" I asked. She said nothing, but held the book up so
I had a look at the cover. It was a grammar text but I mostly paid attention to her long,
straight, white-tipped fingernails. "Sorry, I didnt mean to disturb you," I apologised.
"You didnt," she said in a barely-audible voice, "grammar is boring." "What sort of
subjects do you like?" I asked. "Science," was her soft reply. "Whats your name?" I
enquired, telling her mine. "Rebecca," she said shyly, lowering her eyes and blushing
slightly. We ate in silence for a while, but now that wed spoken, she was stealing
glances at me as well, which made it more difficult for me to watch her nails without her
knowing. As she arose I noticed she hadnt touched her dessert, and I asked, "Arent
you going to eat that?" "Im full," she said softly, and started to walk away. But then she
turned back and without looking me in the eye asked, "Would you like it?" "Yes please,"
I responded. Rebecca picked up the plate from her tray and began to hand it to me but it
slipped from her fingers and landed on the floor, shattering the plate and scattering cake
everywhere. Rebecca dropped to her knees and started picking up the pieces, and I knealt
to help her. "Im sorry," she kept repeating, "Im so awfully clumsy." I could hear the
light scrape of her long nails against the tile as she gathered up the spilt dessert and
broken shard of plate. "Careful, dont cut yourself," I warned. She looked up straight in-
to my eyes for the first time. "Thank you," she said with a shy smile. As we carried our
trays to the repository I said to her, "Would you mind if I sat with you again to-morrow?"
"Why would you want to?" she asked. "I dont know," I replied. "All-right," Rebecca
said, "See you to-morrow," and she blushed and gave me a little finger wave with her
beautiful long nails.
The next day as I sat down at Rebeccas table the first thing she did was place her plate of
cake near my tray. "This is for yesterday," she said solemnly, "For me being so clumsy."
"Anyone can drop something," I offered, "It doesnt mean youre clumsy." "Oh, I am
clumsy," she replied, knocking her fork to the floor accidentally. She blushed and rolled
her eyes and said, "See." She picked up her fork and began to arise. "Here, take mine, I
can use a spoon," I offered. Rebecca blushed again and gently took the fork from my
hand. As she did, the straight tips of her long, white nails gently brushed my fingers and
as I watched them I felt myself flush and my erection strained hard against my trousers.
"So Ill see you at lunch to-morrow," I said brightly as she finished her meal and stood.
"All-right," she said as she walked off, "but I still dont know why you would want to sit
with me instead of your mates." "Youre, er, ah, prettier…I mean, that is," I stammered,
and seeing her blush bright red and fearing Id tipped my hand too soon and scared her
off, I added, "And at least you chew with your mouth closed!" Rebecca smiled and
giggled.
The following day as I approached the table I noticed that Rebeccas hair wasnt tied
back, but instead framed her face in a dark, puffy cloud of woolliness. She had also
removed her spectacles and laid them on the table, and I was pleasantly surprised at how
those two changes improved her looks dramatically. It was apparent as I sat down and
spoke to her that she couldnt see me well, and when finally she decided to put her
spectacles back on, she had to feel about for them and in so doing accidentally swept
them off the edge of the table. I caught them but as she grasped in the air her long,
straight-tipped fingernails sliced my arm. "Thanks," Rebecca exclaimed as I handed her
her spectacles, "I couldnt live without them." And once she could see again she noticed
the red streaks on my arm and she put her hand over her mouth and started to apologise
for scratching me. I couldnt very well tell her that it turned me on, so I just responded
with typical teen-male bravado and said "No bother. Doesnt hurt a bit."
I noticed that one of the books in her pile was on the subject of palmistry. "What class is
that for?" I asked. "Oh its not for a class. Just something Im reading. Its very
interesting," Rebecca responded. "Can you read palms?" I asked curiously. Rebecca
nodded, "Would you like me to read yours?" "Yes please," I replied, offering her my
upturned palm. Rebecca took my hand in hers gently. Her fingers were soft and warm
and slightly damp, and as I watched up-close the long, straight white tips of her
fingernails as she grasped me, I could feel my arousal grow instantly. Rebecca began
talking in a soft voice, which I found eerily hypnotic. "This is your life-line," she purred,
as she gently traced her long, square-tipped fore-fingernail along a line on my palm, and I
felt my arousal boiling. "Youre going to live a long time," she assured me softly. I
thought to myself, with you holding my hand and stroking my palm with your long nails I
may have a heart-attack any instant. "Thats good," I said, gazing at her. Her mouth
looked especially luscious, with the edges of her two front teeth and the tip of her pink
tongue slightly visible between her parted lips, and I was consummed with the desire to
kiss her. "And this," she continued, placing her pinkie nail which was probably two
centimeters long, against my palm and tracing it gently along another line, "is your love
line." "It tells how many girlfriends youre going to have in your life," she informed.
"Oh," I said, "I thought it would point toward the girl I fancy." Noting instantly that the
line was pointing at her, Rebecca blushed red as a tomato and dropped my hand.
Rebecca suddenly glanced at her watch and said that she had to go to class, and she
quickly began gathering up her books and lunch tray. "Would you care to have an ice-
cream after school?" I blurted. "Why?" she asked hesitantly. "You dont like ice-
cream?" I asked. "No…I mean, yes…I meant why would you want to invite me?" she
responded. "I dont know, I just do," I said, with typical fifteen year-old vacuousness. "I
have choir practise after school," she exclaimed mournfully. "Oh," I replied, dejected,
and we walked silently out of the hall. By the doorway Rebecca detained me as I walked
and I shivvered at the sight of four white tracks her long, white nails made as they gently
raked my arm. "I just remembered: To-day is Friday and I dont have choir practise to-
day!" she exclaimed, "So if you still want ice-cream…" I smiled and we agreed to meet
in the front yard after school.
I carried Rebeccas books and we walked to the ice-cream shop after school. I asked her
what flavour she preferred, and she replied that anything except strawberry was all-right,
that she had an allergy to strawberries. I ordered two dollops of chocolate ice-cream,
which the bloke behind the counter proceeded to place in-to a single dish with a wink,
and handed it to me along with two spoons. We took it out-side on a small table under a
near-by tree, and, as shy youngsters are wont, we ate more than we conversed. Because
she was left-handed and I am right-handed and we were sitting across from one-another,
my left hand was resting near her right hand and on an impulse I touched it and she didnt
withdraw it, in fact she closed her fingers against mine. I felt her long fingernails
touching me, and also watched her other fingernails as she held her spoon, and my
trousers grew very tight. The sight of her slowly taking the ice-cream off her spoon with
her luscious, full lips and her pink tongue increased my arousal to the point where my
shyness began to boil away and I set down my spoon and leant forward. Rebecca had
just taken a mouth-ful of ice-cream and she tried to swallow it quickly, meanwhile I
began to sit back. "Im sorry," she giggled and blushed. "Thats all-right," I assured her.
"Im full, I cant eat another bite," she said, resting her spoon and looking straight in-to
my eyes. More than a little dense at fifteen, I didnt get the subliminal message, and in
retrospect I still admire how much effort it must have taken for painfully-shy Rebecca to
lean forward and turn her head slightly whilst closing her eyes, so that I would meet her
in a kiss. Her first real kiss, as it were. Rebecca instinctively reached her left hand up
and held the back of my neck, and as we kissed some more, she caressed my face. When
her long nail-tips gently brushed my cheek I nearly exploded in my shorts, and I moaned
softly in-to her kiss. "So, would you fancy being my girlfriend?" I asked, with a fifteen
year-old boys absence of finesse. "If youre certain you want me to," she replied, with a
shy, insecure fifteen year-old girls absence of self-confidence. "Im certain," I assured
her. And so we kissed again and parted company for the week-end.
Saturday and Sunday passed with agonising slowness. In our nervous awkwardness, I
hadnt thought to ask her telephone number, so I couldnt even ring her. Numerous
times throughout the week-end I wanked to the thought of her beautiful long, straight
white fingernails. I barely could keep my seat in classes Monday morning, anticipating
seeing Rebecca at our table at lunch. Finally the hour approached and I raced to the
hall, spying her already eating. As I sat down, she leant toward me with her eyes closed,
hands in her lap, anticipating a kiss. Suddenly she remembered and brought her napkin
up to wipe her mouth, and instantly it was as if the world had stopped. I could hear no
sound, and I felt an icy chill come over me from head to toe. There holding the napkin to
her lips were her ten fingers, all her incredible long, white fingernails were gone, cut
short to the quick.
Rebecca opened her eyes and looked at me with utter confusion. "Whats wrong?" she
asked, with dire concern in her voice and on her face. "Your hands!" I exclaimed.
Rebecca smiled, "Oh, right. I cut my fingernails." "Why? Why?..." I spluttered. "I
thought you hated them. You kept staring at them, and when I touched you with them
whilst we kissed, you made the sorrowfulest sound Ive ever heard."
Before me now was just another girl, and not a particularly fetching one at that. She
didnt turn me on, and I didnt really want to kiss her. What was I supposed to say? Tell
her that her long fingernails had been the cause of my attraction to her? That I was no
longer attracted, and implore her to endure my lack of attraction for weeks or even
months until they grew long again? Sensing something was deathly wrong but unable to
fathom why or what, Rebecca began to weep, and she ran from the hall. I ran after her
but she disappeared. I didnt know what I could say to her without revealing my secret
fetish, but I knew Id hurt another human being and I had to try to do something about it.
I waited outside in the yard after school, and spied Rebecca as she was leaving. Her
books were clasped in front of her and her head was bowed. I ran along-side her but she
kept walking, and when I touched her arm she pulled away from me. "Please talk to me
Rebecca," I begged her. Finally she stopped and turned to me, wiping the tears from her
cheeks with her boyish, short-nailed fingers and demanded, "What made you hate me
since Friday?" "I dont hate you!" I cried, "I love you!" I think that was the first time I
said that to a girl just to get her to stop crying, but it did stop her crying, and more
importantly, it triggered the perfect explanation to appear in my mind. "I was so
shocked," I began, "that you would cut your beautiful nails simply because you
thoughtmistakenly I should addthat I disliked them," and I continued, "that I didnt
know what to do or say, and then you ran off." "You mean you still want me to be your
girlfriend?" Rebecca sniffled. "More than ever ," I replied, "And I positively insist that
you start to work immediately growing-out your nails again!" "Oh, thats all-right," she
sighed, "Its probably time I was done with long fingernails anyway…" "But Rebecca," I
said sorrowfully, "If you cut them for me, why wont you grow them back for me?"
"Well…" she began hesitantly. "Please?" I begged with clasped hands. "You really
fancy them long? I mean, youre not just saying it because you think I do?" "Cross my
heart!" I exclaimed, "Now, promise me." "All-right, I promise," she said, "They grow
really fast and theyll be that long again in a month or two at most." The thought of
watching her nails grow long again day by day excited me and I put my arm round her as
we walked home. Rebecca giggled, "My father will be most un-happy when he sees Im
growing my fingernails again, he still thinks Im too young for long nails." "Really?" I
chuckled. "Yes, in fact he kept making me cut them until this year," she said, and
confessed, "In fact, to spite him I secretly stopped cutting my toenails." "Really?" I
cried. "Yes,"she replied sheepishly, "Isnt that disgusting?" "Let me see," I demanded.
"No, its really disgusting," she resisted. "Hey, Im your boyfriend, you have to show
me!" I pleaded. "Promise you wont vomit?" she insisted. "Promise!" I exclaimed. And
she stopped at a bench and removed her shoes and stockings and, giggling, wiggled her
toes, which had perhaps a half-centimeter of straight-edged snow-white long nails. I
stroked her thick, wooly mane of black hair and removed her spectacles and kissed her
long and hard. Rebecca had no idea it was her toenails, and not the fact shed shared
their secret with me, that inspired the return of my lust and sustained it whilst her
fingernails were growing out. True to her word, Rebeccas fingernails grew quickly to
their former length and then some. We remained boyfriend and girlfriend for the
remainder of our school days andwhen we were of legal age of courselost our
virginities to one another with Rebeccas long, straight white nails playing an important
part in that event.
-
married
I have married one girl. She has very sexy long nails - about 2cm from her finger tips. Her nails are long enough to bend like claws and she cuts them in oval shape closer to a v-shape. It takes courage to have sex with her as she uses her claws a lot. She says that she loves drawing my blood when she's aroused and she does. She runs her claws on my back and waist making a tearing sound. The pain that she induces - only I can bear. Her strong hands are just unstoppable and makes very loud scratching noise. Once she got so aroused that she grabbed my face hard with her paws and pulled hard. She's just amazing during sex and I always end up having a painful pleasurable sex with my beautiful wife. I love her !!!!
-
Mein erstes Mal: Scharfe rote Krallen im Männerrücken
Seit ich ungefähr 21 war und meinen pietistischen Eltern endlich entflohen war, habe ich mich für Männer immer aufreizend zurechtgemacht. Meine Lippen, meine Fingernägel und meine Zehennägel habe ich seit damals immer blutrot angemalt. Am Anfang habe ich noch gedacht: „Na, Isi, das sieht doch ein bisschen übertrieben aus", aber die Männerblicke, die ich einfing, waren so wild, dass ich noch ein bisschen mehr übertrieb. Damals wurde ich gerade Sekretärin, und bei den modernen elektrischen Schreibmaschinen konnte ich mir endlich lange, spitze Fingernägel leisten.
Klar hatte ich damals auch viele Verabredungen mit Männern, die meine schicken Nägel bewunderten und sich auch mal ein bisschen kratzen ließen. Doch einmal, im Sommer, hatte ich ein ganz besonderes Date: Ich trug absichtlich keinen BH, damit meine Brüste unter dem leichten Sommerkleid hervorstanden. Normalerweise gucken die Männer dann auf meine Brüste und kommen gar nicht los davon, und nach einer Weile bekommen sie Spendierhosen und kaufen mir etwas Schönes. Doch der smarte Geschäftsmann, mit dem ich mich traf, sah nicht auf meine Brüste, sondern unverwandt auf meine spitzen Fingernägel. Ich bemerkte, wie seien Hände zu zittern begannen, als er seine Kaffeetasse hob, und wie er errötete, als ich ihm in die Augen sah.
Ihr habt sicher schon gemerkt: Ich spiele mit den Männern so lange, bis sie spendabel werden. Auf die Art bin ich schon an manchen schönen Schmuck gekommen oder was mir sonst gut und teuer ist. Na, da kam mir der Typ gerade recht. Wenn er meine Fingernägel bewunderte, dann sollte er sie haben. Aber zuerst wollte ich noch mal probieren, ob ich mich wirklich nicht geirrt hatte. Ich fuhr mir also leicht durch meine schulterlangen Haare und sorgte dafür, dass meine Nägel dabei deutlich zur Geltung kamen. Der Blick meines Gegenübers hob sich sofort, und er bemühte sich krampfhaft, Haltung zu bewahren. Nun ging ich aufs Ganze: ich griff nach seiner Hand, sah ihm in die Augen und drückte meine Fingernägel leicht in seinen Handrücken. Es dauerte nur wenige Minuten, bis ihm der Schweiß ausbrach und er heiser sagte: „Nicht hier …"
Sofort zog ich meine Hand zurück, und kaum hatte ich dies getan, begann er zu stottern: „Ich würde die bitten, damit an einem anderen Ort fortzufahren, wenn Sie mögen". Ich musste innerlich grinsen. Der Typ war unglaublich schmerzgeil und gierte so nach meinen Krallen, dass er sich kaum noch halten konnte, und blieb trotzdem übermäßig höflich. Ich bewegte meine Fingernägel dezent, aber deutlich krallend in seien Richtung, woraufhin bereits wieder der Schweiß ausbrach. Was ich mir wohl wünschen könnte, wenn ich ihm die Gunst schenken würde, seinen nackten Körper zu zerkratzen? Na, ich rechnete mal 50 Euro pro Finger, und sagte eher scherzhaft: „Ich könnte einen mittelgroßen Diamantring brauchen, hier, für meinen linken Ringfinger." Als ich sein Zögern bemerkte, drückte ich ihm den Zeigefinger so tief in seien Haut, dass er sich nur noch mühsam beherrschen konnte, nicht laut aufzuschreien. Danach sagte er sehr leise: „Auf dem Weg zu meinem Hotel beim Juwelier … gehen wir?"
Was soll ich euch sagen? Ich bekam nicht nur meinen Ring, sondern einen Liebhaber, der immer bei mir anklopfte, wenn er in der Stadt war. Ja, er übernachtete sogar wieder im gleichen Hotel. Es machte ihm wohl nichts aus, wenn das Zimmermädchen morgens die blutbefleckten Laken abziehen musste, die meine Fingernägel nach etlichen tiefen Kratzern auf seinem Rücken hinterlassen hatten. Ich durfte sogar jedes Mal mit ihm frühstücken, damit er noch einmal sehnsuchtsvoll einen Blick auf die scharfen roten Krallen werfen konnte, mit dem ich ihn die Nacht ohne Ende malträtiert hatte.
-
My Awakening
My Awakening (by Greg)
Ive read a lot of accounts by guys who have the "nail thing" for women, and it seems
like for a lot of people it started early in life. It did for me too, way back in third grade.
The girls thought boys were "stinky and dumb" (we were!), and we thought girls were
spoiled and favored by the teachers (they were!). If there was an altercation between a
boy and a girl, the teachers always believed the girls story and took her side. A girl
could assault a boy pretty much at will, and as violently as she felt like, and all she had to
do to get a free pass, was to claim self-defense. Boys got no such privilege, and if we so
much as pushed a girl, we were treated as though wed committed capital murder. Mind
you, at that age very few boys were physically larger or stronger than many of the girls,
but we were conditioned never to retaliate. Fortunately, most of the girls Id come across
in class up to then had been fairly docile, although I had experienced the occasional light
pinch, slap or shin-kick from the fairer sex. But then came Marci.
Marci looked like a fairy-tale princess: perfect features, deep blue eyes, and long, thick,
wavy platinum-blonde hair that shimmered when she tossed her head in that confident
way girls do who know instinctively theyve got "it". She always had an entourage of
girls who followed her around like groupies. Marci was one of those girls who had an
angelic smile and could radiate pure sweetness and innocence that fooled every grownup
into disbelieving she could possibly be to blame for anything she did. Id seen Marci in
previous years, and like all the boys did, thought she was pretty, which she was. But I
never really spoke to her, and in any case Marci didnt pay any attention to boys
whatsoever, other than to tattle on them when they "bothered" her.
The first day of third grade I got on the school bus and looked for a seat. My stop was
the last one, and the bus was almost full. The only empty seat was next to Marci, and I
sat down without even looking at her. She stared out the window with her nose turned
up, ignoring me entirely. Marci was chewing bubblegum, and she started blowing a huge
bubble. I put my finger up like I was going to pop it. Fearing it exploding all over her
face, Marci sucked the bubble back into her mouth fast and almost swallowed her gum.
"Jerk!" she said to me. "Youre the jerk," I retorted stupidly. She said, "You better watch it. I
grew nails over the summer, and I scratch!" Now, my older sister had sort of longish
nails, at least, compared to mine which I bit, and sometimes she used to dig them into my
arm if I was annoying her, so I wasnt really afraid. Marci started blowing another
bubble, not as big, but this time I popped it.
I saw her hand go for mine, but she moved so fast I didnt have time to react. She curled
her fingers and stabbed her nails into the back of my hand and clawed backward very
fast. I swear, I think I saw blood before I even felt pain. Marci just sat there smirking
and flexing her fingers. "I told you I scratch," she said. My eyes about popped at how
unbelievably long her fingernails were. They were a good half inch from the tip of her
fingers (I remember because later Marci took out a ruler and measured them to show me)
with the corners just rounded off. They were amazing, so shiny and clean and perfectly
shaped. I just sat there hypnotized by Marcis long fingernails.
"Touch them," Marci said to me. I was still in sort of a trance I think, because I didnt
say anything, I just reached up and started to really lightly feel her nails with my
fingertips. They were really smooth, and the tips were really thin and sharp, kind of like
razorblades. As I was feeling her nails I was also seeing the back of my hand and the
four scratches shed made. They were about as wide as her nails, bright pink, and raised
up on my skin, and down the middle of each one was a thin strip where the skin had
broken and bled. Just the air made them burn and throb. Marci kind of peered around at
the scratches and she smiled and gave a little laugh. "I bet it really hurts," she said
grinning. Being a boy, I was obliged to show bravado, so I said, "No it doesnt!" Bad
move.
Marci grabbed my forearm with both hands and dug all her nails in hard. It was like
being grabbed by an eagles talons. It hurt like hell and I started to try to pull away but it
just made the pain worse. I went to pry her fingers away but that just made her dig in
with all her strength. I didnt want to scream out because I didnt want any of the guys to
call me a sissy. I was trying very hard not to cry but I remember my voice trembling and
me saying "Im telling!" and Marci staring at me and saying "Tell, and Ill scratch your
face." I knew by the look in those cold blue eyes of hers that Marci wouldnt hesitate to
do it. Suddenly, Marci said, "Do you want to be my boyfriend?" Just as suddenly I
answered, "Okay."
So Marci and I hung out together, I carried her books and generally was attentive to her,
and in third grade that was being boyfriend and girlfriend. Usually, "relationships" lasted
anywhere from a few days to a week, max. But I was under the spell of Marcis long
fingernails and would do anything she told me, just to be around them, and she was drunk
with the power she had over me. So we remained an "item" all the way through the
school year. If I was even a little slow to follow one of her orders, shed immediately
tear into me with her long sharp nails. I found myself purposely doing things to incur
getting scratched, and being disappointed if she didnt.
During the summer she hadnt done much except grow her nails, but now Marci was
active as before, and her nails started to break. Whenever one of them broke, she was
unhappy, but I was truly griefstricken. After maybe a month, almost all of them had
broken, I think she had both pinkies and her left ring finger still really long, and one
morning she came to school with those cut short to match the others. When I say "short"
I dont mean all the way to nothing, they were still maybe an eighth of an inch and still
really sharp and could scratch pretty good, but they just didnt have that jaw-dropping
effect on me anymore. I was very depressed, plus I was embarrassed to ask her if she
planned on growing them again. But she told me she was going to grow them back, also
that now she knew she had to be a little more careful not to break them. They actually
grew pretty fast, but not fast enough to suit me. It was torture waiting for her nails to get
really long again. I even swiped my moms bottle of Sally Hansen Hard As Nails and
gave it to Marci as an early Christmas present. Soon all of Marcis fingernails were very
long again, and life was good for me. I tried my best to do things for her, like opening
things, that could endanger her nails, and she rewarded me with digs and clawings.
The next year Marci went to Catholic School, where Im pretty sure the nuns mustve
made her cut her nails. Anyway I never saw her again, but from then on Ive always had
to have a girlfriend with long nails.
-
My Best Friend
My Best Friend…by Bethany
Hi my name is Bethany but everyone calls me Beth. I just wanted to tell you about me
and my best friend for life, Lisa. Me and Lisa met the first day of first grade. I was
really skinny and very shy, and I was just sitting on a swing at recess sorta kicking the
dirt when Lisa came and sat on the next swing. She was really pretty even then, with her
big blue eyes and long, light brown hair, so I guess the other girls were already a little
jealous of her, and on account of being new she didnt have any friends to hang around
with yet. Like I said, I was really shy, so I didnt actually look at Lisa for a while, but I
kept hearing this sorta clicking sound and it got my attention. She had her hands in her
lap and the sound I heard was her picking at her nails, and then she held her hands out in
front of her with her fingers spread apart, like she was admiring them. Thats when I saw
how long her fingernails were. I mean, they were like maybe a half-inch, which on a
seven year old is majorly long. I mustve took a deep breath because Lisa looked at me.
Ok, I should mention that all the beautiful women on TV and in the movies had long
nails, so every girl considered them the symbol of being grownup and pretty. But long
nails were considered "too adult" and probably dangerous, so nobody I knew my age or
even less than about sixteen, had them. My Mom and Dad would check my hands often,
and if they saw any white nail growing, they would send me to the bathroom to cut them.
Since my nails grew pretty fast, that was like 2-3 times a week, so I remember pretty
clearly. So when Lisa looked at me, I just gasped and screeched, "Dont your parents
make you cut your nails?!" And Lisa just shook her head and grinned proudly. "My
parents wont let me have even a little bit of nails," I told her, and then I said, "Theyre
really pretty!" Lisa turned sideways on her swing and held her hands out to me and said,
"Wanna feel them?" I very lightly brushed my thumb across the ends of her fingernails
and OMG they were like the edge of a knife, or maybe a razor blade. "Theyre really
sharp," Lisa told me, "When I scratch someone I make them cry and bleed." That scared
me, and I pulled my hands in and put my arms behind my back. but Lisa quickly said,
"Dont worry, I mostly scratch boys." Then she made a face and said, "Boys are icky."
"How about girls?" I asked nervously. "Ill scratch a girl if she deserves it," Lisa
answered. "Like what?" I asked naively. "Like, if she annoys me," Lisa said calmly.
"Like how?" I asked, seeking to know for the sake of my own well-being. "Oh, youll
know if you annoy me," Lisa said, forming her fingers like claws. Thats what I was
afraid of, but I decided it best not to interrogate her further, in case that might be
something that annoyed her.
Lisa quickly became the queen bitch of the entire school. She had no inhibition about
digging those sharp half-inch nails into the arms of any girl who pissed her off even the
slightest. Being Lisas enemy was definitely not healthy. But being Lisas friend had
perks. Well ok, at that point I was more like Lisas lackey and sidekick than a true
friend, but whatever. The important point is that nobody picked on me, either, because
they knew Lisa would find them and punish them with her nails. That was expecially
true about boys, because scratching boys was like a fun sport for Lisa. Not that she
played fair. In fact, she would make a bunch of girls go and capture some boy and bring
him to her and hold him while she scratched him up. Her favorite place to scratch boys
was their arms and hands, but often she went for their backs or chests. Her nails were so
sharp that she could make someone bleed scratching them right through their shirt.
Sometimes she went for their necks and faces, but she reserved that mostly for when a
boy was stupid enough to pick on her…or me.
It was Lisas luck that our teacher and the principal were both women with long nails
who I guess mustve got picked on when they were kids, because even though a few
parents complained that Lisa had scratched up their kids, Lisa was never made to cut her
nails. We got to be tighter as the year went on, and me and Lisa would have sleepovers.
My Mom didnt really like the fact me and Lisa were best friends, because my Mom
thought Lisa was a bad influence. She expecially disliked Lisas nails, as she thought
they were too grownup for her age. The weird thing is, my Dad who always insisted on
me cutting my nails to the quick, was strangely silent whenever my Mom brought up the
subject of Lisas nails. Anyway, so I enjoyed sleeping over at Lisas more then her
sleeping over at my house. Her parents were like, whatever. You know, as long as we
didnt bother them, we could pretty much do whatever. Like staying up really late
talking and playing with dolls. Lisa liked to play that Barbie and Skipper (supposed to be
Barbies little sister, but Lisa pretended Skipper was Barbies best friend) were Amazons
and they would capture Ken in the jungle and scratch him with their long nails, and then
shed put Barbie and Skipper in bed in Barbies Dream House while Ken had to sleep
outside in the yard. Haha! We also would make me "long nails" by cutting white plastic
drinking straws into inch-long pieces and then cut them in half lengthwise and stick them
over my nails with Elmers glue. I would look at them and wish I had Lisas parents so I
could grow my own nails like hers. Also Lisa would "hypnotize" me, talking real soft
and making very faint circles on my skin with her long nails. I would try to resist, but
she always put me right to sleep like that.
Ok so things went on pretty much like that for the rest of elementary school. Oh yeah,
we had this new gym teacher in sixth grade who told Lisa she had to cut her nails because
she could accidentally scratch someone, but Lisa refused and her Mom came to school
and there was some kind of major big deal about it, and Lisa ended up having to trim
them to about a quarter-inch, but they grew back really fast and Lisa refused to cut them
again, and I guess the teacher didnt want to go through it all over so she caved and that
was that. Anyway, Lisa never scratched anyone accidentally. It was always on purpose.
Me? Even in sixth grade my parents still insisted I keep my nails super short. Once I
secretly let my toenails grow out for a couple months, as if it was some kind of
compensation for short fingernails, but they made holes in my socks and scraped against
my other toes inside my shoes so I ended up cutting them. By seventh grade I finally
convinced my Mom to let me try long nails, and I actually got them to about a quarter of
an inch but they kind of turned up and didnt look pretty like I expected, and plus they
were sorta weak and broke really easily so after a while I had two long pinkies and
maybe a little length on my ring fingers, and the rest were all short. So I came to realize
that long nails, at least real ones, werent in the cards for me. Mom was kinda
disappointed for me, but my Dad seemed weirdly relieved when I stopped having them
long. At least I think so, because he stopped sneaking looks at my hands and acting all
nervous around me like he did when my nails were growing.
So now we were in middle school, and people started liking each other. I mean, boys
liking girls and vice-versa. Everyone was going through that awkward stage too, where
most of us girls were either too fat, too tall, or too skinny (that was my situation) and of
course we all looked in the mirror and we looked worse to ourselves than we were in
reality. Those of us whos boobs were developing were self-conscious, and those of us
whos boobs werent developing (again, that was my situation) were even more self-
conscious. OTOH Lisa was turning into a gorgeous hottie. I dont think she ever got a
zit. And just like her parents didnt have a problem with her having long nails at seven,
they didnt have a problem with her wearing makeup at thirteen, which made Lisa look
lots older. All the boys our age were like totally infatuated with her, but they were too
intimidated to approach her. It didnt help that Lisa still liked to scratch boys just for the
fun of making them bleed. That part might have saved her from some bad stuff though,
because whenever we went somewhere, older boys were always hitting on Lisa not
knowing how young she was, but one swift rake of her razor-sharp talons along with a
tearful, "Im only thirteen!" sent them off nursing their wounds in shock. Then she
would laugh her ass off.
After while, Lisa took it up a notch and started purposely teasing those older boys, trying
to get them to hit on her. And then when they did, shed do her "Im only thirteen"
routine and slash them with her nails. Little by little Lisa got bolder and bolder and each
new guy she got hornier than the previous one, before scratching him. Once I saw Lisa
getting out of this seventeen-year-old guys car and he was screaming "Shit! Fuck!" and
he had his shirt off and I could see from clear across the parking lot long bleeding cuts
across his chest and down his arms and on his cheeks. Thats when it began to dawn on
me that Lisa was out of control. Ok, remember I was only thirteen too, so I was pretty
naEve and dense I guess. Anyway, I warned her that these boys were a lot stronger then
her and one day one of them might smack her around but good. Thats when she told me
that she had a secret to tell me but I had to swear Id never tell anyone. So I swore, and
she told me her dad would get drunk and smack her mom around. Lisa said so if some
guy ever smacked her shed rip his eyes out. And from the look on her face, I knew she
would.
Well, so anyway, when we were seventeen, Lisa was still pulling the Im-only-thirteen-
and-then-scratch scam on guys, except now she was doing it to guys in their 20s too, and
by then I was starting to come out of denial that Lisa had some really deep issues going
on. Still, me and her had been best friends since first grade and so I couldnt just cut
myself off from her. But I did kinda start to distance myself. And plus, about that time I
got my first real boyfriend, Todd. Maybe Lisa was feeling like I was abandoning her, I
dont know. Whatever, Lisa started getting totally out of control and scary-weird. The
first thing I noticed was that she started getting really possessive of me, trying to get me
to blow off my boyfriend to spend time with her. And when I didnt, she first would get
all sad and cry, and then shed switch in a heartbeat to being all pissy, and then back to
crying. Thats when I suddenly realized that Lisa never had went on a date even though
like a million guys asked her. Of course I was a teenager and said something really
insensitive like that she should get a life and let me have mine. Then Lisa grabbed my
upper arm with those dagger-nails, which by this time shed grown to almost an inch. It
was actually the first time in all our years knowing each other that she used her nails on
me, and, Oh. My. God. The pain was unreal. I like, saw stars. The top of my head was
gonna explode off. I bet they heard me scream in the next block. Lisa just stared in my
eyes for a long time with a hatred look, gouging her knife-sharp nails in deep. I was
crying and trying to pry her fingers off but OMG I couldnt budge them. I had no idea
she was so strong. Finally she let go, and there were five purplish cuts in my arm and
blood was dripping out of them. Right away Lisa started bawling and apologizing and
she was all like, "Here, let me get some alcohol and clean those before you get an
infection," and I was like, "How could you do that to me Im your best friend?" and Lisa
was all like, "I know I know, Im a terrible person and dont deserve your friendship."
And we just kinda broke down and cried in each others arms for a long time.
So things were better for a while, or at least so I thought. I was pretty distracted by other
things in my life anyway. My Dad got laid off and him and my Mom started fighting all
the time and then they seperated and Mom went to stay with my aunt across town, and
Dad was like completely depressed all the time, sat around in his pjs all day watching
TV. Also about that time, my boyfriend Todd had started acting weird and me and him
broke up. I didnt really blame him, I wasnt much fun to be around, and plus he was
really frustrated and resentful that I wasnt ready to have sex. I really needed my best
friend at that time in my life, so I tended to forgive and forget Lisas weirdness. Her
mom had left her dad a couple years earlier, and her mom went through a series of
boyfriends, most of them who sooner or later tried hitting on Lisa (she swore she didnt
entice them, but I didnt really believe her) and she scratched them…a couple of them,
really bad. Lisas mom blamed Lisa so their relationship really went to hell, and Lisa
started spending almost all her time at my house. Most nights she slept over. And she
started flirting with my dad. I could see him responding, and I knew in his depressed,
vulnerable condition he wasnt going to be able to resist her. I mean, I dont think too
many guys could of resisted Lisa, she was really hot and she really knew how to drive a
guy wild. I mean, we were both eighteen by then, it wasnt like my dad could go to jail
or anything, but I knew Lisa didnt want a relationship with him, or even to have sex.
She would just end up ripping him to pieces, emotionally as well as literally with her
long, sharp nails. That would end our friendship, so really I had nothing to lose by
confronting her and asking her to lay off my dad.
One night me and Lisa sat on my bed passing a bottle of wine back and forth, and after
we were both pretty mellow, I told her we needed to talk. When I asked…well, it was
more like pleaded for her not to seduce my dad, she didnt even deny thats what shed
been doing. Instead she was just like, "Ok. Whatever." Then she was like, "Beth,
remember when I used to hypnotize you to sleep with my nails?" and I was like, "OMG,
yeah. What made you remember that?" and she was like, "I love you Beth," and I was
like, "I know, I love you too," and she was like, "No, I…love…you, Beth," which she
stressed the word love. I mean I saw her coming closer, but still she caught me off
guard…I guess…I dont know, maybe I was curious. Whatever, the next thing I knew,
me and Lisa were kissing. OMG her lips were so soft and warm and her tongue tasted so
sweet. She was doing that thing where she made really light circles on my skin with her
nails and I was getting hypnotized, except not to sleep, it was like I couldnt move. The
next thing I felt was the straps of my nightgown being brushed off my shoulders, and
then those soft, warm lips of Lisas were on one of my nipples. I could feel my heart
pounding, and of course I knew what was happening. Here my best female friend since
first grade was trying to make love to me. My brain told me I didnt want it to happen,
that I was totally straight. Despite my brain, I was getting really wet. My only sexual
experience before had been heavy petting with Todd, and he was pretty clumsy and
immature. Lisa was incredible. She like, was playing me like an instrument, she like
totally knew exactly what to do that drove me insane. I tried to gently push her away, but
I guess it was a pretty feeble attempt because she just interlaced her fingers with mine
and held my arms down against the bed while she kept sucking and licking my boobs,
and it was getting me hornier by the second. The next thing I knew she stroked those
razor-sharp nails really, really lightly down the underneath part of my forearms and
tugged my nipple with her teeth, and I had this completely mind-blowing orgasm.
NaEve me figured we were done. Ha! Lisa was only warming up. We kissed some more,
and then Lisa started kissing her way down along my body, at the same time she was
stroking me with her sharp nails. She was doing it harder than before, but even though I
could see she was leaving pink lines on my skin, it didnt hurt. Along with the sound and
the wet-hot sensation of her sucking kisses on my stomach and around my hips, the
feeling and the sound of her long nails scratching across my taut skin was getting me
even hornier than before. Suddenly I felt her lips and tongue at my pussy and I kinda
came to my senses for a second and tried to close my legs together, but Lisa held my
thighs and I could feel her press with the tips of those razor-sharp nails. I knew if I didnt
let her in she might dig her nails in deep, and I already had experienced that pain once
and didnt want to again. And, I think a part of me wanted her to do me. I relaxed and
spread myself, and OMG Lisa was amazing. She ate me slowly, and while she did she
scratched my stomach and hips and thighs with those long, sharp nails. I lost count of
how many orgasms she gave me. She had me almost to one when she suddenly stopped,
and she looked up at me. I was totally frantic, I so much wanted her to keep going. Lisa
came up and kissed me. I could smell and taste my own juices on her lips and tongue,
and I remember being totally surprised that it didnt gross me out, in fact it got me off!
She just smiled and was like, "Its your turn to do me for a while." I remember I was
really scared, not so much about doing her, as about that I might not do her good enough.
"Dont worry Beth," Lisa reassured me, "Youll know if youre doing it right." I didnt
know exactly what she meant, but it didnt take long to find out. The second I got her
boob in my mouth she clawed my back for the first time. I was like on fire, it burned so
bad. Lisa was all like, "Im sorry Beth, its coz Ive been waiting so long for this." I
asked her what she meant…I mean, I totally thought it was like a totally spontaneous
thing, you know, like it just sorta happened out of nowhere. "Ive been in love with you
forever I think. But Ive wanted you really bad the last few months. Its been driving me
crazy," she said. I was trying to take it all in, to make some sense of it. This was really a
shock…I mean, my best female friend was in love with me. It didnt help my thought
process any that now my back was throbbing from Lisas long, sharp nails. "This is
kinda freaking me out," I told Lisa. "We can talk about it later," Lisa said, but I was like,
"No I need to talk about it now," and she was like, "Youre starting to piss me off, Beth.
You really dont want to do that." To help make her point she slightly dug her nails into
my arms, and I got the message. So we started making out, and in a short time I was
eating her, and Lisa was moaning like she was in heaven. She kept on dragging her nails
over me, but thankfully not as hard as she did the first time, except when she would have
an orgasm, which would make her lose control and scratch the shit out of me. I could
feel it burn from hers and my sweat, and I knew her nails mustve broken my skin and
made me bleed in lots of places. I just hoped I wouldnt have permanent scars.
We made love all night, doing each other in turn. Finally we were both totally worn out
and Lisa cuddled me and told me Id done her really good, better than she ever
fantasized. She told me again that she loved me, and that made me start to cry, and Lisa
said it was ok, that I didnt have to say it back, but she said she knew someday I would.
That made me cry even harder, and I sobbed to her that how could I know if this was
right if wed never done it with guys, and Lisa got really quiet, so I was like, "You mean
youve done it with a guy?" and she couldnt look at me. I had this horrible panic and
sorta whimpered, "Daddy?" "Oh! No!" Lisa said, and I relaxed. "So who then?" I asked
her, and she turned her eyes away again. "Promise you wont hate me," she said really
quiet. I was totally confused and didnt say anything, and Lisa was like, "Promise me!"
and I was like, "Like I could ever hate you!" and so then Lisa kinda bit her lip and
whispered, "Todd."
"OMG!" I said, but then I was like, "Well I guess it doesnt matter, were broken up."
Again Lisa was strangely quiet and didnt look at me. I went, "OMG, you mean you
slept with him before me and him broke up?" Lisa just looked at me and lowered her
eyes. I screamed, "Why? Why him? You could have had any one of millions of guys.
OMG, you did it purposely to break us up, didnt you?" "You promised you wouldnt
hate me," Lisa said contritely. I told her I didnt hate her but how could I ever trust her
again. We didnt speak for a while, just laid there staring at the ceiling. "Beth?" Lisa
finally said. "What?" I answered, trying to sound mad but in fact I was just overwhelmed
and confused about everything. Lisa asked, "Remember when you let your toenails grow
because your parents wouldnt let you grow your fingernails?" "Yeah, so?" I said. "That
was truly pathetic," she said. I glared at her, but then we both burst out laughing. When
I could catch my breath I said indignantly, "I thought my toes looked cute with long
nails!" "I thought so too," Lisa whispered, and suddenly we were kissing and making out
again.
Me and Lisa had like almost constant sex for about the next three months. She tried to
control herself but my body was still covered with scratches all the time, and even
wearing a flannel shirt to bed didnt help, her nails were so damn sharp. My nails were
still no good for growing any real length but at Lisas asking I managed to keep them
about an eighth-inch, because she really liked the feeling of them scratching her back.
And I let my toenails grow about the same and painted all twenty nails black because
Lisa thought it was sexy on me with my black hair and really white skin. I stopped
overthinking about it and decided to just enjoy what we had. But yet again, unbeknown
to me, Lisa needed to kick it up one more notch. One night she said why dont we go to
the bar, and I said ok, sure.
Lisa kept pointing out different guys and going like, "Isnt he hot?" or "Wouldnt you
love to do him?" and I finally I was like, "Lisa I thought you didnt like guys," and she
was like, "I dont, but I thought maybe you might." Well, it was true. Id never done it
with a guy, but I was definitely attracted. But as long as I was out with Lisa, no guy was
gonna hit on me. Hell, no guy was probably gonna even look at me. And plus I was still
very shy. "No problem," Lisa said, "Just tell me which one you want and hes yours." I
was getting really weirded out, and I was like, "Why would you want me to have sex
with someone else?" and Lisa was like, "Because you hafta find out if youd rather be
with a guy." OMG I realized then how much she really loved me. So I picked a really
hot guy and it took Lisa like a second to get him to pick her up, and we followed him
back to his place. Ok, that guy was super-smokin-hot, obviously he worked out coz he
was totally ripped. But he really wanted Lisa, not me. It was so embarrassing. But once
Lisa kissed him and licked him and ran her nails over his muscles and got him totally
horny, he was like her slave and wouldve done anything she wanted, and she said she
wanted to watch him do me first.
OMG, that guy had the hugest cock! I mean, the only one Id seen in real-life before was
Todds, but I knew this guys was a lot bigger coz I used to give Todd handjobs and this
guy I could get both hands on it, one above the other! While I watched him put on a
condom I was so scared he was gonna hurt me, on account of I was still technically a
virgin, that I almost bolted. And it did hurt like hell but just for a couple seconds when
he put it in me, but after that it felt incredibly amazing. I couldnt help myself dig my
little nails into his back and claw him with all my strength. He didnt even flinch, so I
guess my short nails arent very sharp either. Ok, so all this time Lisa was just watching,
but suddenly she was kissing me and fondling my boobs, and that turned the guy on even
more. We could tell from his grunting that he was about to cum, and Lisa got behind him
and slipped her arms around him, and just when he started cumming, I watched her curl
her fingers and dig her long, sharp nails into his bulging chest muscles and scratch him
down to his abs. I mean she did it really hard, and I watched the blood fill the scratches
immediately following her nails. And then she reached back up and clawed him
again…and again. He screamed but because he was in the middle of cumming he
couldnt bring himself to stop her. Finally he like shrugged Lisa off and pulled out of me
and rolled on his back, holding his bleeding chest and yelling, "You bitch! You fucking
bitch!" and Lisa was like, "Lets go!" and she shoved my clothes at me and I frantically
put them on and we bolted for the door. He came after us but Lisa turned and swiped her
nails across his face and he screamed and dropped to his knees. We ran to the car and
Lisa peeled out of the apartment parking lot. I was almost hyperventilating, I was so
scared, but Lisa was on this major adrenaline rush and was like, euphoric. As soon as
we got home Lisa just like pounced on me and we had the most incredibly amazing sex
wed ever had.
Well, after that we started going out a couple times a week and Lisa would get some guy
to pick her up and hed have sex with me and just as he was cumming Lisa would slash
him with her nails, which by the way, would give her a humongous orgasm, and then
wed go home and have unbelievably great sex. I insisted we couldnt go back to the
same bar twice, because I was scared of running into one of the guys wed done it to.
Lisa wasnt scared at all, in fact nothing seemed to scare Lisa, she was like totally numb
to fear. I guess thats part of what makes her so hot, at least to me. Anyway we finally
ran out of bars where wed never been, and so we actually moved to another city. Me
and Lisa are still together, and I hope always will be, and we still love picking up a guy
and doing him together. Me for sex, and Lisa for scratching the living shit out of him
with her long, razor-sharp fingernails.
-
My deepest secret pleasure
my deepest secret pleasure 1
One of my deepest pleasures has to do with my old French teacher, Ms Julie. She was a petite lady, and when I was 12 years old, she would have been about 21 or so. She had long, curly dark brown hair, and had the flair for wearing short skirts. My story about her begins when I noticed that her nails had grown to about 1 inch in length. At that time, nails that long was not unusual, and she was no exception. She was a beautiful woman, to say the least.
I came to her class, and I was aghast at the length and beauty of her nails. They were squared of at the edges, and when I first noticed them they were unpainted, and they curved ever so slightly. They were, surprisingly enough, the same length as each other, and I couldn't help but admire them everytime she went to explain something. She had this habit of using her hands to explain things, and once in the lesson she happened to come close to me as she roamed the class to explain a concept to the class. I happened to have the most beautiful view under her nails, and I was drooling at the fact that the light was shining underneath them
Eventually I couldn't stand it anymore. I had to see her and get closer to her nails. I made up my mind to pretend to see her after school
After the class, I decided to see her and ask for an appointment, which she gives easily enough. I came aound to her desk. She was reading something, and I made sure that I was the last student to leave. Her nails were spread across the pages of the book she was reading, and they were still unpainted. I carefully stole as much glances at her nails. They were still at least an inch long, and the closer I got the more I decided how strong they must be to reach that length. Ms Julie looked up at me as soon as she realised that I had stopped in front of her desk
"Yes Chris?" she smiled
"Ms Julie... I need to ask a few things about the lesson
"I can make a time for you for tomorrow morning just before the class"
"That would be great" I said
Ms Julie smiled as I left the room, and she resumed her reading. I stole a parting glance at her nails. They were so perfectly square, they just got me really excited
The next morning I made sure I plonked my bag next to the door of her room. I waited for a few minutes, and then she turned up, rounding the corner. she was flipping through her keys. She wore a black skirt, just cut below her knees, and a white, plain, collared shirt. As she came closer, I noticed that her nails were painted clear, and they shone very nicely against the flourescent lighting.
She smiled as she opened the door. You don't need keys with nails like those, I thought. I asked myself why she doesn't just use her nails to open the door, instead of bothering with keys. Her inch long fingernails looked so strong against the light I really wanted to imagine her using her keys to open the door.
we both came inside and we settled onto her table. I noted that her eyes were absolutely tired from too much crying.
"What?" She asked as she noticed my staring at her
"Are you OK?"
"Oh, it's nothing" she said, almost sobbing. I made a face that must have looked so sympathetic that she just started crying. I don't know what came over me, but I just reached across and hugged her. Miraculously, she just hugged me too. Tightly, as if she really needed someone to hug. We hugged for a few minutes, with her sobbing away. It was 7:30 in the morning, and there was no chance anyone else would come for another hour.
Eventually, she stopped hugging me, and she started to explain what was wrong. Her boyfriend had moved out the night before, and she was terribly lonely. She was explaining everything as she waved her beautiful fingernails around, still an inch long, and looked very strong. I listened to her pour out her frustration and sadness as her relationship fell apart.
"I'm really, really down" she said after her explanation, and she put her head in her hands and cried. Her sobbing, I'm sure, could be heard miles away. But I hardly noticed as I was too busy staring at her long talons. I was starting to get a hard on, but I controlled myself and I hugged her again.
After a little while she stopped hugging me again, and she stared at my eyes. Her deep, brown eyes had a penetrating stare. I don't know what came over me, but I leaned closer to her. She kept staring at me, but she didn't lean back. Eventually my lips touched hers, and it was the most wonderful feeling as she returned my kiss. We frenched for quite a while, or so I thought, and then she withdrew her lips. She grabbed my hands and both of us stood up, and she pulled me into a side room. She asked me to close the door behind her, which I did.
The room was very small, only a few feet long, but slightly wider, and it contained all manner of books and tapes. But my eyes were for Ms Julie. She pulled me further into the room, and then turned around and frenched me again. She grabbed my hands, and then put them on her breasts, which I could feel, was starting to become firm. I massaged them, and then she pulled away and placed my other hand on her other breast. I just leaned over and kissed between her breasts, and then started unbuttoning her shirt, and started licking her tits. Ms Julie moaned with pleasure. I didn't know what was happening at the time, but it sure felt right, if not it made me a little worried.
"This is so wrong, Ms Julie"
"Isn't it, Chris?" she said as she grabbed my face and frenched me again
Ms Julie then unbuttoned her shirt
"Lock the door" she said. I happily complied, but it took me a few minutes to work out how to do it. By the time I finished, and turned around, I was met with a sight that completely shocked me. Ms Julie was stark naked, except for her heels, which was about 2 inches high. I must have had my jaw drop to the floor. Ms Julie had her hands in her hips, and her breasts and privates were showing in their full splendour. Her nails glinted in the dull light that was available
"Close your mouth and come here" she whisphered. I came over and kissed her squarely on the lips. "Do you know what a bonk is?"
"No" I shuddered
"Then I will teach you how to give a woman the most amount of pleasure" she said, looking into my eyes "Then I will give you something back"
"Ok" I said.
She grabbed my hand with hers, and she accidentally scratched me. It was painful, and arousing at the same time. She placed my hands in her privates.
"Now massage... gently" Ms Julie said. I massaged her as gently as I could, and I could feel that she was starting to get wet. I would have squirmed but the look on Ms Julie's eyes encouraged me to keep my hands where it was. "Yes, Chris, Yes, that's how you start...." Ms Julie said as she stared into my eyes. Her breathing had changed to deeper, slower breaths, and her mouth had opened. I stared at her tits, and then I don't know what happened, but I just started to suck them. Slowly at first, and then harder. Ms Julie moaned with pleasure. She was getting very, very wet, but it felt so good fingering her like that.
She hugged me, tighly, and then I felt her nails line up against my back. Then she started dragging them, slowly. The pain was really intense. She must have been putting a lot of pressure on her nails. I heard the low, soft crackle as they sliced past my skin, and I could feel my skin explode with pain, and I felt a shiver of great pleasure at the same time.
"Oh my GOD...." she moaned as I massaged her harder. She dug her nails harder into me. I tried not to squirm at the incredible pain
"Sorry about my nails" Ms Julie said, as she gently explored my ears with her warm, luscious tongue "I just love using them" I could feel myself losing control
"I wanted you to use them, Ms Julie" I started "I want to know everything about them" I heard a pleasurable breath as I kept massaging her. I felt her getting more excited
"And what do you want to know about them, Chris?" she asked. She lined up her nails again on my back, and dragged them down again. I almost exploded with pain, but my stick was absolutely rock hard. I couldn't understand it
"You'll break them if you keep scratching me that hard"
"Oh... darling, no" she said, as she kissed me on the lips, frenching me and exploring my mouth with her tongue. It was so pleasurable, I couldn't believe it. I was about to explode, but at the time, I didn't want to be embarrassed, and I held it. "My nails are long.... but they are... strong.... VERY strong"
I felt my mouth opening at the incredible pleasure at her saying those words.... and the fact that she was slicing my back to ribbons as I massaged her more intensely. I breathed deeply
"I have very strong nails...." she said, and I squirmed as she raked her nails down very hard. I could only imagine the welts that she was leaving on my back
"Strong.... and very sharp.... more than enough to rip you to shreds"
A couple more strokes of my finger, and suddenly Ms Julie went all hard. She dug her nails so hard that I almost screamed with pain. I was afraid her nails would puncture through my shoulder blades. After a few moments, with tears in my eyes, She relaxed, but with her powerful nails still about to impale me.
"Oh, GOD, that was fantastic. Thank you" she said as she kissed me on the forehead. "Oh, I'm am so, so sorry about your back, darling"
"Th..that's OK Ms. Julie." I said. She looked down, puzzled
"You're still hard" she said "Normally my boyfriend would be all limp after I tear him apart with my nails"
"Ms Julie, you're going to think this is really stupid, but..." I said, staring into her eyes
"Try me, darling" she said, staring right back, wanting to find out what it was
"Your nails... really make me feel... nice" Ms Julie smiled. She motioned for me to lie down, and I obliged. She sat next to me, cross legged. She examined her nails, which was red at the tips. I could see underneath them.
"How... nice, darling?" she asked, and she had a wicked inflection in her tone, as she started cleaning them in front of me.
"It makes my thing do that" I pointed at my stick.
"Oh...." she said, without looking at my stick. She kept cleaning her nails. I stared at them. I couldn't help it. They were so perfect.
"Does it turn you on how strong they are then?" she asked, smiling
"They must be really strong to get that long, Ms Julie." I said. Her face had the look as if she had me where she wanted me
"Yes, they are strong, Chris... VERY strong" Ms Julie said. She then did the most amazing thing. She grabbed my stick, and very gently wrapped her fingers. The sight of her nails wrapping around my stick was awesome "Is that what makes you feel good about my nails, Chris? Just thinking how strong they must be?"
"Oh... Ms Julie... "
"Or is it how long they are that turns you on?"
My mouth opened involuntarily as I turned to look into her beautiful eyes. They seemed to say that she wanted me to have what she was giving her. She rested her other hand on my chest, and spread out her fingers. She made it so that the tips of her nails were just touching my skin. I was breathing deeply, and slowly, attempting to control my body. It was getting harder and harder. Ms Julie moved her fingers down my stick, and up again. I breathed deeply as the pleasure intensified. She smiled at me, as she continued to move her hands slowly up and down my shaft.
"My nails are so sharp as well, you know, darling...." she said. She started raking her nails on my chest. Lightly, at first.
"Do you feel how sharp they are, Chris?" she said. I moaned with pleasure as she kept moving her hand on my shaft. I was breathing more and more deeply
"Just think about how strong my nails are, darling.... They're strong enough to rip apart a lot of things...
"Oh, Ms Julie...."
"Do you like this?" she asked. I was about to climax with pleasure. She was starting to rake at my chest harder, leaving long, red welts
"Oh, Ms Julie, Oh my GOD, Oh, my GOD!" I said, almost screaming.
Ms Julie held her hands just above my face. I could see underneath her nails. They were so perfect, so square, so strong, so sharp.
"Just imagine how easily I can tear apart an apple with these nails, darling... just imagine.... " she said. "And my nails are so strong, so unbreakable, stronger than steel...."
"Oh, Ms Julie... please don't stop"
"My nails are sharper than a razor blade.... I slice things so easily with my them.... I can't help it.... I can rip apart coconuts if I wanted to.... And I will.... very easily, just because my nails are so strong... and sooo razor sharp.... coconuts can't possibly stop my nails digging into them.... I'll show you, darling" she said.
I couldn't stop it any more. I convulsed as the pleasure coursed through my body. It was so intense. I shot out a full load, and it went a mile into the air before coming down, all over Ms Julie's fingers. I thought that she would squirm, but all she did was smile. She then proceeded to put her fingers into her mouth, and made sure I was watching as sucked her fingers clean. She put her nail inside her mouth, and sucked each finger slowly, pleasurably. I was about to go sick, but I couldn't help but watch her.
After she had finished, she held up her hands. Her nails glinted so nicely at the dim light. I had started staring at them, and started getting hard again. Ms Julie smiled. "I do think I know how to give you pleasure" she said, with a wicked tone in her voice. I didn't realise what she was about to do next would change the way I looked at things, as if she hadn't already done already
junior high - my deepest secret pleasure 2
Ms Julie mounted me like I was a horse. Except she did something I had never experienced before. She glanced at my hard stick, and then met my eyes, staring into me, smiling as I felt pure pleasure through my body. I gasped as I struggled to understand what she was doing.
She had wrapped herself on me. I drew a sharp breath as my stick was consumed inside of her. I drew short, sharp gasps, and her smile became wider. She sat on me for a few moments, staring at me with bedroom eyes. She shook her head, making her hair move in such a sexual way, that awakened an animal instinct inside me, which I struggled to suppress. She stared into me again, and she ran her fingers through her hair. The sounds of her nails scraping against her hair made me feel incredible inside.
"Ready?" she asked. She was incredibly beautiful. I was lost for words.
Then she did it. She lifted herself incredibly slowly, and I gasped as the pleasure went through my body, and again when my stick disappeared into her. My stick had never felt so hard in my life.
She kept sliding into and out of my stick. Ms Julie kept running her fingernails through her hair. The sound they made was incredibly erotic. I had my eyes closed, feeling the pleasure for all it was worth. I chanced to open my eyes, and the incredible body that plonked itself in and out made me thristed for more. Ms Julie had her mouth open, drawing long, deep breaths.
Then she slowly opened her eyes. I could see something had changed inside of her. Her eyes was no longer soft, and understanding. it was now filled with a rage, a fire that I had never seen. She gritted her teeth. I was anxious that I was hurting her, but she kept sliding in and out of me.
She slumped her body, and smacked her hands on my chest to support herself. She kept sliding in and out of me, and I knew it must be incredibly tiring, but she showed no signs of it. She did just the opposite. She started sliding in and out faster.
I could feel her nails resting on my chest, and I could just anticipate what she was going to do.
"You are a very, sick boy" she began. There was almost malice in her voice "Screwing your teacher is NOT a very nice thing to do".
"Yes Ms J..."
"Shut up!" she hissed through gritted teeth "I am going to have to punish you". Her sliding in and out got faster and faster.
"Do you know how I punish silly little boys like you?" She started dragging her nails down my chest. Not that my skin could stop her nails. I felt a burning pain on my chest as her nails sliced down my skin. The scraping sound of her nails was stirring inside of me, and it was bursting to get out.
"I am going to rip you apart" she said. Her face was knotted and angry, and her eyes told me she wanted to destroy me, as if she was getting hurt by what she was doing, but there was a strange beauty even as her rythm became faster and faster. She placed her thumbnails on my shoulders. She was thumping up and down now, and something was itching to get out of me, but the more I held it, the more intense the pleasure I felt.
I felt Ms Julie's nails start trying to dig into me. I felt a little bit of pain at first, but as her thumping increased, so did the amount of pain she gave me. I knew she was trying to dig her nails into me, but I just took it. I had to. This was the best feeling of my life.
"Ohhh-Uhhh" she started gasping, repeatedly. "Are you holding it too, Ms Julie?"
"How dare you talk back to me?" she hissed, as she kissed me aggressively. I felt her tongue explore my mouth, and I meekly responded with mine, but she was like a tigress. She wrestled my tongue with hers
I felt her nails start puncturing my skin, on my shoulders, and my shoulder blades. But she was now thumping me like a locomotive. I felt something edging closer, and I was trying to hold it in, but I felt the more she thumped me, the more difficult it was to keep inside.
Finally she gasped and opened her mouth, and her face had a look that I was doing something really bad to her. She thumped me a little bit more, and then I felt her nails really digging into my flesh, sliding inside and feeling it really slicing through my muscles.
But then she froze. I froze, too. I couldn't hold it in any longer, and I felt an explosion come rushing out of me, and into her. I could only describe the feeling as the most incredible of my life so far. A few moments later I felt the burning sensation, and I struggled to keep tears flowing from my eyes.
"Oh, my GOD! I am so sorry, Chris, this is going to hurt a little bit, OK?" I looked at her. I must have been a sorry sight, as I could no longer hold back the tears, and they started flowing freely. Ms Julie pulled her nails from me. I clenched my teeth to take the pain, and the burning sensation was even more pronounced once her nails were gone.
I had gone limp, and she lifted herself off me, and held out both hands as if to help me up. Her nails were bloody, at least for the bottom half, and she was biting her bottom lip as she looked at me with sorry eyes. I gazed at her nails, half feeling sorry for my self for being in such pain, but part of me was ecstatic at the experience.
I clenched my teeth as she wrapped herself around me in a great, big hug. I couldn't help but return it. She kissed me on the forehead, and looked at me, her face lined with worry.
"I'm so, so sorry, Chris" she began "I just get a little carried away when I bonk. I.. I didn't mean it... I was just... sad" I looked at her, and couldn't help but smile
"Don't worry, Ms Julie" I paused for a moment, as I tapped her naked butt gently. "I won't tell anyone if you don't"....
-
My Icelandic Experience
My Icelandic Experience This is a true story with some embellishment. I recently went to Iceland as the first part of my European vacation. It was really just supposed to be a connection but the flights were booked so my friend who I was travelling with was in Iceland for about 12 hours while I was there for about 36 hours. Even with the inconvenience the price for going through Iceland still made the stopover worth while. Iceland was great; it looked sort of like the moon with some beautiful sights thrown in. We did the sightseeing thing during the day and in early evening my friend departed for the airport while I figured I would hit the nightlife. The Icelandic women were on average, beautiful, they had brilliant blue eyes, great skin and a smart short haircut; but unfortunately for a long nail lover like myself, short nails. I don't know if it was hard work or the cold climate but everyone I saw had unpainted short nails. The women were very cute and very friendly and outgoing so I didn't stay away. I had always heard that Scandinavian women treated sex like any other hobby like playing cards and although I hadn't seen any orgies their friendliness did not deter me from this view. After conversing in a bar/club with various local women for a little while it happened. I noticed her at the bar. She didn't look very different from most of the other women, she had the same short blond hair, she was about 5' 10 and she had those same captivating blue eyes. The one difference was that she had 2-inch long fingernails painted with a white gloss. They were perfect. Whatever kept there skin smooth and perfect did the same for their nails. The people had been friendly and since I wouldn't see these people again if I was rejected I took the chance and approached her. I introduced myself to her at the bar and bought her a drink. This was no little thing if you knew how expensive everything was in Iceland; a beer goes for about 7 bucks her drink was about 12. We were talking, she worked in a travel agency, and I told her about my vacation plans. After about 10 minutes she mentioned that I was staring at her nails. I confessed, since I couldn't take my eyes off of them. I told her that they were the best I had ever seen, and that I do a lot of looking. Afterall, my country has almost 300 million people while hers has only 250 thousand. She was flattered. She told me she some times gets some guff for having them since so few people have long nails in her country, and it was nice for them to be appreciated. We talked for a while and then went back to her place. I had mentioned to her what I had heard about sex and Scandinavians so she said since I was such a beginner that she should take control. She told me to lie naked on the bed. She kept her clothes on. She started lightly scratching me all over. She started at my head and face and went down. She went past my privates giving them their turn and down to my feet. After once past my whole body she took her shirt off. Occasionally she would stop and kiss me but for the most part she would scratch and caress. She would make a run past my whole body and then take another article of clothes off. Lets just say by the time she was naked I was worked into a frenzy (It is cold there and people wear layers of clothes). We then had some of the most incredible sex I have ever had. She continued to use her nails on my back, ass and face during the act, and all over afterwards. She left for work in the morning and we said our good-byes. Later that day I went to the airport. I was early and mine seemed to be the only afternoon flight. I went to the bar to hangout and wait. Amazingly enough the bartender had these great 1-inch to 1.5-inch nails with clear nail polish. She had dyed red hair but otherwise had that same beautiful Icelandic look. She probably saw me staring at her nails and walked over. She looked down at my arms and then gave me two names. I was shocked for a second then realized that by looking at the light scratches on my arms she could tell that I had been with a women with long nails the night before and I guess she knew the two possibilities in town. I told her it was the first. She then started running her nails up and down the scratch marks on my arms. I was bewildered but was not going to stop her. I figured she knew she could do whatever she wanted with her nails. She ran them over my face and my chest a few times but mostly stayed with my arms since we were sitting in the middle of the airport. She mentioned that her nails were not quite as long as the other girls were but knowing how to use them was just as important. I'll tell you she knew how to use them. She said that there were only three single girls in all of Iceland that she knew of with nice long nails. I was lucky enough to encounter two of them in 24 hours. I asked her why so few had long nails. She decided to answer why the three of them did have them. She said besides liking the way they looked which was the main reason, she said that it was better for sex. It made sex better and more dangerous. I could attest to the better part from last night. She had some other customers but always came back to me and my arms. My arms were getting pretty scratched up now. We talked and she scratched for about 40 minutes before I boarded my plane. That was my great Icelandic experience.
-
Nail Story.Thomas
True Long Nail Story....By: Thomas J.
I'll start with the aftermath of the breakup with my girlfriend before
my last exgirlfriend. I met this girl at a car dealership as I
was having work done. She was an accountant and I started chatting to
her, dated her, and we broke up because of too many differences. But,
believe it or not, we are still good friends, which sometimes I can't
if you think of the "we can still be friends" routine. But we are, and
that's okay. It seems we are better as friends than as a couple. I met
that girl two days before I started work as a manufacturing operator
at an outboard marine manufacturing plant. About the same amount of time
I dated her, I was laid off. Man, is looking for a decent job a
pain in the ass.
As I came to my ex's apartment, we were watching T.V. and she was
sitting on the couch across the room from me, looking at me and said,
"Hey, Tom, you find a job yet?" I glanced in her direction, and said,
shaking my head twice, "No, I haven't yet." She glared at me with an
irritated stare and replied, "Damn Tom, you need to get off your ass
and get a job!" "Oh, what am I supposed to do?" I bellowed across the
room, "Get a 5 dollar an hour job? I'd like to think I am a little bit
better qualified than damn near minimum wage." "You think like all the
rest of those people," her boyfriend said, coming out of the kitchen
with food in his hand as usual. "A lot of people would kill to make 5
dollars an hour." "What, teenagers?", I asked, "Kids in highschool
that need extra cash for the weekend? How the ***k am I 'sposed to pay
off a 90 Camaro on 5 dollars an hour? I would end up going broke in a
quickness!" We argued for about two hours, give or take a few minutes,
before I decided to go home.
After another week or so of searching, I came across a chemical
waste disposal pipe fabrication company, and I called my (ex) to tell
her the news. "Holy ****! You found a job? That's great!", she said,
"Where is it?" "It's in Lake Bluff", I replied, "not too far." She
yelled to her boyfriend, "Hey, honey, Tom found a job!" "Cool, tell im
good goin'", he said from the bathroom. "Hey Tom?", she said, "Mi-", I
cut her off, "I know, I heard him," I said, "Tell him thanks. Well, I
gotta get going, I'll see you two later-bye." "Bye Tom and good luck."
I started out in the fabrication department for about eight months
and got transferred to the warehouse. God, did I hate working in that
department, but little did I know, it would lead me right to my last
exgirlfriend. One of the workers would want me to give them a ride so
his girlfriend wouldn't have to pick him up, and it was not out of my
way. I would head down Route 41, take Grand Avenue to Jackson Street,
and I would just let him out right there. "10 bucks a week for THIS", I
was thinking to myself, "not a bad deal!" So from there on, I would just
take him home, not in the morning or anything, just after work. Okay, it
was a LITTLE out of the way, not much, and DEFINITELY worth 10 bucks.
Now here's how the meeting of that girl came into play. I had been
getting tired of the long line of cars that would be lined up from the
intersection of Grand of the off ramp from 41, so I took 41 and went
down Washington Street instead. As I headed for the Washington Street
on ramp, Guilermo asked, "What the hell are you doin'?" "Just want to
take a quicker way instead of dealing with all those cars on Grand." I
was passing a few cars that caught his attention, as he looked back,
he said, "Okay, whatever." As I'd approached the Washington/Jackson
intersection, Guilermo said, "Just be careful here, man." The problem
being, this particular intersection had only four lanes, two on both
sides of Washington Street, no protected turning lanes or green arrows
for left turns. I was waiting for all the traffic to clear, started to
make my turn, and a speeding car swerved from behind a van, each car
hitting the breaks, clipping each other on the front end.
"Oh, MOTHER***K! I can't believe this s***!", I said, as I got out
of my car, examining the extent of the damage. The other driver sat in
her car for a minute, got out, looked at her car for a minute, then
walked towards me in an almost timid way. "Young mexican girl, hardly
17," I thought. "You DO have insurance, right?", she asked, handing
me her insurance card. "Well, yeah", I said, digging for my card, "I
got a sweet ride sittin' there, full coverage." We talked for not even
a minute, walked away, and waited for the police to arrive. The police
arrived about 10 minutes later, started to take the information, and
asked the girl questions first, then me. As they finished, they handed
us the accident reports, and told me I was at fault, as the Law states
"Anyone making a left turn into a foreign lane that is struck by an
oncoming car is at fault." As I drove off, I said, gripping the wheel
aggressively, "***DAMMIT! I cant BELIEVE this s***! On the frigging
weekend and my vacation hasn't even started!" "Man, that's why I don't
like taking that way home for JUST that reason," Guilermo said, "That
intersection's all messed up!" I dropped him off, and headed for my
insurance agents' office to notify them of the incident.
As I walked into the office, Craig, the manager, looked up at me
in a surprised manner, and said, "Tom, what brings YOU here?" "I got in
an accident," I replied. An uneasy expression feel upon his face and
said, "Was anyone hurt?" "Wha--no-o-o", I replied, as I shook my head,
"everything's cool." A sigh of relief overcame him. "Good", he said,
"Now you'll need these forms to fill out." Reaching over the desk, he
handed me the papers, and I filled them out in about 10 minutes. As he
looked them over, he said, "Okay, now you can go to the back and Diane
will have to process the information. I think she's making copies, so
she'll be a few minutes." I walked back, slumped into the seat, and felt
a hand patting me on the back, and a sweet voice that seemed to
touch me from inside. "Oh come on now, it's not all THAT bad is it?",
she said, as she sat down, with her arms folded, resting on her desk.
And there she sat, a gorgeous brunette, 5'10", HUGE breasts, tight
ass, super sexy body, and the one main thing that set it all off. Inch
and half POINTED nails! My jaw dropped slightly as I stared in awe of
these devilishly sharp talons, TRUE talons, not these crappy little
descriptions to describe long nails, but TRUE, sharp talons. "Now, the
information's correct, right?", she asked, as I was totally oblivious
to everything, seemingly mesmorized by her beautiful red nails. I had
snapped out of it after 10 seconds, and uttered, "Huh-wha? Yeah, yeah
it's all there." She asked me how the accident occured and a perturbed
look fell upon her face. "How can that be your fault?" She said, "If
she was speeding....." I explained to her the law was specific on such
an incident, yet we both disagreed. As she went on typing, I noticed
a sullen look in her eyes and asked, "What's wrong?" She stopped typing
with those sexy long claws and said, "It's my boyfriend, well,
my EX...I should say....he treated me like crap. I left him 5 months
ago and haven't dated since." "WHAT?!" I astonishly replied, "HOW the
HELL can a gorgeous girl like yourself NOT have a boyfriend?" "I don't
know", she said. "I gotta get this girl to go out with me," I thought,
as I was staring at her nails again, "I have a couple movie tickets
that're gonna expire soon, would you like to go with me?", I asked.
"No." "Why not?" "I don't even KNOW you," she said. "That's how people
meet", I said. "If you meet someone you seem to like, ask them out,
and take it from there. Too big of a move?" She nodded. Now my brain
was firing like Hamburger Hill, and I said, "A movie or dinner is too
big of a step, so how about lunch tomorrow?" She smiled and said, "I
think that can be arranged." Great 12:00?", I asked. She nodded, and
I said goodbye by kissing her hand just to hold her hand just to feel
her sharp claws touching my skin, just in case she changed her mind.
Our first date was okay, if you consider the fact it was spent at
McDonald's. We talked, and of corse, I held those sharp nails in my
hands once again. I stared into her eyes, and she said, "What?" "Oh,
nothing", I said, "I just love sexy, soft brown eyes." "WHA-A-A-T-T?
They're BROWN!", she exclaimed, "Why would you like brown eyes?!" I
always have. I never knew why. I don't even know why I like pointed
nails, but I do. Big boobs, too. Her hands were awesome too, although
they were on the big side, they were as shaply and feminine as they
ever could be, even though she was on a rather large frame. Dispite all
that, ALL the feminine shape was THERE, from head to toe. But our
second date was even better, lunch in the park and it was quite a well
ballanced meal of food, tounging and body grabbing. It wasn't till we
went to the hotel where I would only begin to realize just what she
could do with those nails of hers.
On the day we went to the hotel, I could not wait, for I knew what
I was in for. We checked in, got to our room, and I was ready to go
before the door clicked shut! "Paitience!! Relax, take a shower, I've
already showered, and you got off work and you need to. Besides,", she
said, pulling out a rather large nail file, "I have to get ready for
you." So I took a shower for about 40 minutes, four times longer than
I normally do. I put on my clothes, like she asked while I was in there,
and she said, "Now I have to put my nails to good use." Taking
her thumb and index finger, she took her nails and undid my zipper,
slowly unzipping my pants. She grabbed my pants with only her thumbs,
pulling down, raking the skin of my legs with her other free fingers
and she slowly scratched. "Feels SINful, doesn't it?", she said, "Now
I have to take off your shirt!" She grabbed the shirt tail in the same
manner, thumbs only, raking my back as she pulled up and over. She did
the same with all of my clothes, as I soon stood nude. She grabbed my
manhood, and started to lightly scratch with her nails, saying, "Oh
my, look what I've done! I hate to start a job and leave it unfinished
so get going!" She shoved me onto the bed and scratched me all over
my body. After that INCREDIBLE foreplay, she started to go on me in such
a way where your manhood starts to get that tickle feeling, which
is usual, then, it went to a tingle feeling, and it quickly went to a
"nerve" feeling, not about to emit "fluid", but it just got to the
point where I couldn't stand it anymore and had to rest for about 15
seconds. After about seven "shots", I rested.
Diane looked at me and said, "You know Tom, I have had these nails
for about two years now. They were meant for protection. I have NEVER
seen anyone actually get pleasure from them. I think most people hate
the sharpness. My last boyfriend HATED them, but I don't care. I LOVE my
pointed nails!" She looked at two outstretched hands, turning them to
the backside, glancing over, with a menacing grin, and said, "And so do
you, don't you, Tom?" All I could was nod. She threw her hands up into
the air, and said, "Oh, what I could do to you with these nails! I could
slice you really bad, requiring stitches, but I'd rather play, instead."
She started to talk dirty, in an innocent way. "What could you do?" I
asked. "Well," she said, as she grabbed my manhood with the points, "I
have these nails, on every finger, filed to PERFECT points, to scratch
EVERY inch of your body, your head, your neck, your (manhood), your
legs, your ass, your feet..ALL BELONG TO ME, got it, honey? I have these
V-e-e-r-r-r-r-y long nails filed to v-e-e-r-r-r-y sharp points....Oh
Tom, I don't know what it is, I lose control when I'm with you! I can be
ve-r-r-r-r-r-y naughty!" With that, I released some of the most fluid at
one time then ever before. "If I were to die tonight, I would be
satisfied," I thought to myself as I soon lay to rest and slept like an
infant. What woke me up was when Diane awoke, scratching me, she went
over my butt,
with her hand sideways, used the points of her nails to scratch across
my butthole. God, the sensation was unreal, and we never got the same
reaction again, yet I still loved it each time she did it. Her nails may
have been that porcelain filled whatever, but they were better than real
nails, because they almost never went dull!!
We had incredible sex like that almost all the time, but I had to
break up with her for other reasons, mostly B.S. mindgames and wanting
too many things her way. HELL NO! She didn't use sex or her nails as a
way to get her way, but a few bricks were loose in the foundation. It
has been about 19 months since I had a girl with nails like that, as I
met her in early April of 97 amd broke up with her in August of that
same year. I just wish I could meet someone with nails like that
............................A..G..I..A..N!!
A fan of sharp nails,
Thomas J.
-
Nails By Proxy
Nails By Proxy…by R. Starkweather
Larry and Carl were roommates, and had been best friends since nursery school. They
often discussed womens boobs, legs, ass, eyes, hair…in other words, all the physical
attributes that "normal" men found sexy. But Larrys overriding turn-on was womens
long fingernails, and had been as far back as he could remember, but it was something he
was embarrassed to reveal to anyone including his best friend. They had both been in
somewhat of a dry spell of late, so when their gal-pal at work, Linda, offered to set them
up with two of her friends, Larry and Carl jumped at the chance.
They decided to meet their dates at the restaurant after work, so Linda could introduce
them and break the ice. The three women were already seated when Larry and Carl
arrived, and Linda waved them over. "This is Larry," Linda said to one of her friends,
and to Larry she said, "And this is Shawna." Shawna had long, thick dark hair, huge
sultry eyes, large breasts, and plump, full lips that beckoned to be kissed. A spectacular
beauty by anyones standards. Yet even before she extended her hand, Larry was already
eagerly trying to catch a glimpse of her nails, and when he finally saw them his heart
sank. Shawnas nails, although polished a deep shade of red, were clipped almost to the
quick. Ten little burgundy squares surrounded on four sides by pale pink skin. Larry
smiled politely, and Shawna returned his smile, stroking her hair between her fingers, a
sign that she was attracted to him. Larry was used to dating women with short nails of
course, given that the overwhelming majority of women today keep them short, or else
get false nails, and Larry reacted to false nails much the same as he would if he knew the
woman he was dating was bald and wearing a wig. So he really didnt feel terribly let
down that Shawna had short, stubby nails. After all she was otherwise very hot.
"Carl, this is Fiona. Fiona, this is Carl," Linda said. Fiona had short, straight, streaked
blondish hair with dark roots, small gray eyes, a little pointed upturned and freckled nose,
and a small mouth with thin lips accentuated by garish red lipstick. Her breasts were
much smaller than Shawnas too. Larry felt a smug satisfaction that his date was clearly
the more attractive of the two, and was pleased that Linda had set them up the way she
did. That is, until Fiona extended her hand to his best friend Carl. Both mens eyes
bugged out when they caught sight of Fionas nails. They were about three-quarters of an
inch long, and being unpolished, it was obvious they were real. All ten nails were perfect
and unbroken and had that special look, that subtle curve and taper and delicacy that
Larrys trained eye understood meant they were at once very strong, and razor-sharp. He
felt his dick grow rock-hard and strain against his pants, and he sat down quickly. "Im
starving. Lets order, ok?" he blurted, meanwhile in his mind he pondered the cruel irony
that had just been perpetrated on him, and tried desperately to think of any way he could
undo it without hurting anyones feelings, and especially without revealing his secret.
Just then the waitress appeared and asked what everyone was drinking. Linda refused
polite requests to stay for dinner, and she left. The foursome ordered a large pitcher of
beer and a double order of buffalo wings and curly fries, and then they exchanged
awkward pleasantries and smalltalk until their meal arrived. They were all grateful for
something to put in their mouths because none of them were brilliant conversationalists,
and all they actually had in common was being horny and wishing they could just fast-
forward past the meal, to the point where they would end up back at someones
apartment. Dinner was especially torturous for Larry, watching Fiona digging her long
nails into the finger food and then after eating it, slowly inserting the entire length of each
finger into her mouth and just as slowly drawing it back out, until the long, tapered nail
emerged wet and shiny from her little red lips with a sucking sound. Every so often
Shawna would touch her hair and smile at Larry and give that little forced laugh that
women do when theyre attracted to a guy. After a while she started touching his arm
too, which would initially turn him on, then his attention was drawn to her stubby dark
red squares of clipped-to-nothing nails, which turned him off again. Larry hoped that
after so many ups and downs he would still be able to get it up and keep it up later.
Shawna suggested they meet at her apartment because it was closest to the restaurant.
Larry hoped that on the ride over he might be able to talk Carl into switching dates
without revealing his thing for Fionas nails, although he didnt know exactly how theyd
then go about explaining it to the women. But he never got the chance because Shawna
strode up to the passenger side of Larrys car and insisted Carl go with Fiona. On the
ride she rested her head against Larrys arm and poked her fingers between the buttons of
his shirt and played with his chest hair. He silently cursed his friend Linda for her choice
in pairing them off. But he quickly came around to cursing himself, that if hed had the
courage to confide in Linda about his nail fetish, it would be Fionas fingers inside his
shirt, turning him on with the touch of her long nails.
Shawna opened the door to her apartment, which was a studio, and they all went inside.
The first thing she did was step out of her shoes, and seeing the snow-white carpet, the
others followed her lead. Larry stole a quick look down and noticed Shawnas very
plump toes with the same dark red polish as her fingers. The nails on her big toes were
also surrounded on all four sides by skin, and the nails on the rest of her toes were but
little slivers. How someone with a beautiful face and body and reasonably pretty hands
could have such unattractive toes puzzled him, as did the reason why she would call
further attention to them by polishing her toenails, but it wasnt the first time hed
encountered it. Larry also couldnt help but peek at Fionas toes. They were long and
narrow, and her toenails were not polished and had a trace of clear tip growing. Great,
one more reason to rue the fact she was Carls date instead of his.
Shawna took a sixpack of Bud Light from the fridge and offered everyone a bottle, and
they sat down at opposite ends of the long, tan leather sofa. They made polite
conversation while everyone mentally counted down the time until it was socially
acceptable to start making out. Shawna set her beer on the end table and in doing so
reached over Larry, pressing her ample rack against him. She giggled and apologized
half-heartedly, but before Larry could respond, she had her tongue halfway down his
throat. Fiona took the cue and kissed Carl, and then she sat on his lap and leaned back
against the arm of the sofa. Shawna was running one hand through Larrys hair while she
frenched him, and with her other hand began unbuttoning his shirt. He opened his eyes
for a second and looked back over Shawnas shoulder, and saw that Carl already had his
shirt off, and Fiona was scratching her sharp long nails over his back, making the most
incredible scraping sound and leaving long, thin white lines that turned pink. Larry
trembled with lust---for Fiona---and he was hard as a rock---for Fiona. Shawna felt
Larrys hardon pressing against her and assumed it was the result of her doing, which
turned her on further, and she kissed and pawed him feverishly.
While they made out, Larry kept peeking secretively at Fiona, hoping nobody else would
notice. Fiona held Carls head while she tongued him, combing her long fingernails
through his hair. She wrapped her legs around him and crossed her ankles and tightened
her grip, encouraging him to dry-hump her, and she moaned approvingly when he did.
Through one eye open just barely a slit , Larry watched Fiona slide her hands down to
Carls waist and then dig her nails into him and slowly drag them up his back, leaving
deep red furrows. Carl arched his back and grunted, "Shit!" Fiona opened her eyes
narrowly, and curled her thin red lips into a smirk. Then she winked at Larry. He could
feel his face go hot, and he knew by the way she grinned at him that Fiona saw him turn
red. Larry opened his eyes, and Fiona cast him a satisfied smile.
Feeling his raging hardon pressing against her and assuming she was the source of his
desire, Shawna thrust her hand down Larrys pants and started fondling his dick and balls
while she lapped her tongue around inside his mouth. His attention nonetheless focused
on Fiona, Larry watched her slip her big toes under his pal Carls waist, and force his
pants down. Then Fiona reached down and dug her long fingernails into his asscheeks,
urging him to dry hump her harder. Carl grunted and reached back to pull Fionas claws
out of him. When she let go, Larry saw the cuts she had left in his skin, and his wide-
eyed stare met Fionas lusty gaze, and she pursed her lips at him. Then she reached up
and raked her long nails from Carls shoulderblades down to the small of his back.
"Fucking A!" Carl bellowed. "Sorry," she whispered in his ear, but she looked into
Larrys eyes and winked again, while she slithered out of her skirt and panties.
Shawna probed her tongue around inside Larrys ear and whispered, "I want you inside
me," and she took her panties off and tried to pull Larry on top of her. He desperately
didnt want to lose sight of Fiona, so he maneuvered Shawna so he could still keep his
eye on the other couple, who by now had started fucking for real. Fiona was waving her
legs in the air, curling and uncurling her long toes. Larry watched her soles go from
smooth to wrinkled to smooth and back again and again. Fiona was moaning in a high-
pitched rhythm. She had her long nails dug into his friends shoulders, but Carl was too
into the fucking to stop her. Shawna gyrated herself on Larrys huge erection, completely
unaware that it was Fiona who was responsible for his burning lust. Larry closed his eyes
for a moment, but felt something rub his leg and it made him look. It was Fionas bare
foot, she was rubbing it up under his pants leg, clawing at his leg hair with her toes. She
smiled across at him and winked, and then she dragged her long fingernails down Carls
back. She moaned, "Fuck me harder," but all the time staring into Larrys eyes. "Your
nails!" Carl cried. "Oooooh, yessss….my nails! My loooooong, sharp nails!" Fiona
moaned, still staring into Larrys eyes.
"Youre amazing!" Shawna panted breathlessly, impaled on Larrys cock and bucking
hard. "Jesus! Shit!" Carl cried clench-jawed when Fiona dug her nails along his spine
and raked them out in opposite directions, hard and fast. Larry groaned when he saw
eight more raw scratches appear instantly on his friends back, and Fiona staring lustfully
into his eyes. Suddenly she swung Carl around and mounted him. She rode him
furiously, while Shawna did the same to Larry, her eyes shut tight and her face screwed
up in a lusty grimace. He really wanted to cum, but the sight of Shawnas fingers with
those dark burgundy squares of short nails surrounded on four sides by her pale skin, kept
distracting him. Larry glanced over at Fiona, and she was looking straight at him. "You
want to cum, dont you?" Fiona asked in a teasing voice. "Yeah," Carl groaned. Larry
nodded at Fiona, and she smiled wickedly. Slowly she leaned forward. Keeping her eyes
trained on Larrys, Fiona opened her little mouth and Larry watched her sink her teeth
into Carls neck. Carl cried, "Ow! Fuck!" and reached to pull her by the hair but she
pinned his hands over his head. After almost a minute she released his neck from her
sucking bite with a slurp. Larry saw shed left a perfect set of teeth marks surrounded by
an enormous purple hickey. "Am I too much for you, babe?" she asked in her teasing
way. "I…I…n-no," Carl stammered. But he couldnt see that she was staring into
Larrys awestruck gaze. "Im gonna make you cum like a bull, babe," Fiona said in a
hoarse, lusty whisper, burning her stare deep into Larrys eyes. Shawna felt Larry grow
even bigger and harder, and she screamed, "Ohhhhh yesssss! My God! Fuck me!" while
she bucked up and down with complete abandon. Fiona rolled her hips like a trained
belly dancer, and Carl groaned and gurgled and gasped. Looking deep into Larrys eyes,
Fiona licked her lips and winked, and then just as she got Carl past the point of no return
and he grunted and started to shoot inside her, she flattened her hands against Carls chest
and curled her fingers and dug deep into him and clawed him slowly down to his waist,
each of her ten long fingernails leaving a crimson furrow in its wake. As Larry watched,
he instantly boiled up and came like hed never cum before in his life.
"Shit!" Carl whined at Fiona when he regained his composure, "Youre one crazy
fucking bitch!" "Fuck you!" Fiona retorted. "Not again in this life," Carl snorted. He
quickly began dressing himself and shouted at Larry, "Im leaving. Are you coming with
me?" Larry looked at Shawna, who was sprawled out exhausted. She waved him off,
"Its ok. Go. Call me, ok?" "Im gonna go too, hun," Fiona said to her. Shawna closed
her eyes and nodded. The three of them left together. Larry touched Fionas arm and he
said to Carl, "Ill catch up with you in a minute, man." He turned to Fiona and began,
"Listen, Id really like to get together with you sometime." "Sorry, youre not my type,"
she said. "Huh? Not your type? I love to get scratched!" he cried. "Exactly," Fiona said,
giving his face a teasingly-light rake with her incredible long fingernails.
-
Nails lustschmerz.de
Fingernägel - Die Lust liegt im Ermessen der launischen Katze
Ich trage meine Nägel lang, spitz und feuerrot, seit ich als Teenager begriffen habe,
dass Männer Signale brauchen. Sie begehren sie, sie funktionieren auf Signale und
warum in aller Welt, sollte Frau sie ihnen nicht geben? Männer lieben das Luder in der
Göttin, die Schlampe in der Dame und Liebe geht bei ihnen etwas einfacher als bei
uns Frauen eben auch durch die Lenden.
Dass meine langen roten Krallen aber bedeutend mehr Potential als angenommen in
sich tragen, - das wurde mir erst Jahre später wirklich bewusst. Nach vielen
Komplimenten über meine gepflegten Hände, nach vielen fremden Blicken irgendwo in
der Öffentlichkeit. Männer sehen mir ebenso heimlich wie unverhohlen und begierig
auf die roten Spitzen meiner Hände. Manche sind magisch angezogen, können den
Blick nicht wenden und schwanken zwischen Scham und offensicht- lichem Begehren,
wenn sie merken, dass ich sie dabei ertappe, wie meine Nägel sie faszinieren.
Wenn mir ein solcher Mann begegnet, dann habe ich einen waschechten Fetischisten
vor mir. Einen, bei dem meine
Person zunächst wie bei fast allen Fetischisten im Hintergrund steht. Aber darüber
sollte Frau nicht unglücklich sein, -
schließlich bekommt sie von einem Fetischisten absolute Hingabe. Und: es macht
großes Vergnügen mit den Reizen
gehörig zu spielen, die für das Gegenüber eine absolute Offenbarung darstellen.
Hände lassen sich in der
Öffentlichkeit vorzüglich erotisch einsetzen und was gibt es für einen größeren
Genuss, als sein Opfer bereits in
einem "nichtsexuellen" Rahmen richtig heiß zu machen,
während er nichts tun kann als ergeben abzuwarten? Die
Zigarette zwischen Zeige- und Mittelfinger gesteckt und mit provokantem
Blick auf Feuer wartend - ein Bild das den
richtigen Mann zum Glühen bringt... Die Haare lasziv zurückstreichen,
mit den Nagelspitzen versonnen über die
Tischplatte fahren, kurz innehalten, den Bogen zurückverfolgen
um schließlich beherzt ein kleines Stück übers Holz
zu kratzen - und Verführung wird zum Kinderspiel.
Ab diesem Zeitpunkt ersehnt sich mein Opfer inbrünstig eine Berührung,
so zart sie auch sein mag. Er erhofft meine
Hand auf seinem Körper. Schulter, Oberarm... an mehr wagt er noch kaum
zu denken. In seiner Phantasie aber ist er
bereits nackt und bietet mir seinen blossen Rücken an.
Er giert nach allen 10 Fingern, die zunächst sanft über seine
Haut fahren, dann kraftvoller zugreifen, sich in sein Fleisch brennen und
zuletzt tiefe, rote Spuren hinterlassen. Wie
von einer Katze, die mit halbgeschlossenen Augen vor ihm liegt, lasziv
mit ihrer Pfote spielt und schließlich launisch
ihre Krallen in seinen Körper versenkt, möchte der gierige Kerl zerkratzt werden.
Er wird zur zitternden Maus die sich
in ihr Schicksal ergibt. Und er liebt es Maus zu sein, launisch gestriemt
und gequält zu werden.
Seine Wunschvorstellung gipfelt in besonderen Momenten: darin,
dass ich seinen Schwanz mit meinen Nägeln quäle,
ihn zwinge zuzusehen, während ich seine Vorhaut zwischen Zeigefinger
und Daumen zwirble, bevor ich ihn mit allen
Krallen einer Hand zeichne... wie ich mich um seine Brustwarzen kümmere,
von sanfter Stimulans langsam zum
Nagelspiel wechsle und in den letzten Sekunden vor seiner Erfüllung
mit immer stärkerem Druck seine Nippel
malträtiere, bis ihm beim letzen scharfen Stich ein schier unerträglich
geiler Schmerz "überlaufen" lässt. Noch Tage
will er davon zehren. Noch Tage kann er sich diese Situation zurückrufen,
wenn er sich selbst nur minimal an diesen
Stellen berührt..
.
Doch es liegt an mir, ob seine Träume Realität werden. Vielleicht berühre
ich nur sanft seinen Lippenbogen.
Womöglich darf er den Nagel lecken bevor ich ihn damit fast beiläufig kratze.
Vielleicht wird er aber auch nur die
Erlaubnis bekommen meine Nägel zu feilen und zu pflegen... sie akkurat in
ihrer gesamten Länge zu lackieren, bevor
ich ihm mit einem abschließenden Schnippen zum Gehen auffordere.
Ob sein Körper die ersehnten Zeichen erhält,
den scharfen Schmerz der distanzierten Wollust spüren wird ... dies liegt allein
an der Stimmung der launischen
Katze.
Lustschmerz Fetisch: Fingernägel
Fingernägel - Krallen - lecken - kratzen: Ein Gastbeitrag von Sisyphos
Es reizt mich sehr, hier einmal von jener für mich hoch elektrisierenden Sache, meinem
Fetisch schlechthin zu erzählen. Und doch weiß ich auch, dass mir letztlich die Worte
fehlen, dass ich mich nur ein wenig an das Gefühl, an die Empfindungen, die zu
beschreiben ich mir zur Aufgabe gemacht habe, herantasten kann, ohne dem Eigentlichen
wirklich nahe zu kommen. Die Empfindungen, die Sehnsüchte und Phantasien sind alles
andere als neu für mich. Im Gegenteil. Sie waren da seit ich mich erinnern kann. Neu ist
indes das Sprechen darüber und noch immer würde ich die Anonymität dabei nicht
aufgeben wollen.
Allein das Wort "Fingernagel" war Zeit meines Lebens ein seltsam ambivalentes
Wort, ein Begriff mit eigenartigen
Konnotationen, die andere nicht zu empfinden schienen. Eine seltsame Scheu,
war es die ich fühlte und die mich den
Gebrauch dieses Wortes vermeiden ließ, als handle es sich um ein Tabu.
Und dann der Anblick schöner, langer
Nägel an wohlgeformten Frauenhänden! Wie sie die Fingerkuppen überragen,
vielleicht ein wenig spitz zulaufend
oder rund gefeilt oder auch gerade, je nachdem. Ebenmäßig glatt oder
stark gewölbt, fast krallenartig. Lackiert oder
unlackiert, ja vielleicht lieber lackiert, in dunklen Farben, violett, dunkelrot,
schwarz... Der Anblick der überstehenden
Unterseite der Nägel, der tiefe Schauer in mir auslöst.
Die Vorstellung der Berührung. Die weichen Fingerkuppen auf meiner
Haut zu spüren und ein Stückchen entfernt
davon die Spitze des Nagels. Ein leichtes Kratzen oder vielleicht fester. So fest, dass rasch sich rötende Streifen auf
meiner Haut zurückbleiben? Und das immer wieder, bis es kaum noch zu ertragen ist. Am liebsten schaue ich dabei
zu. Schaue zu, wie die Hände meiner Freundin über meinen Körper gleiten, wie sich die Fingernägel in meine Haut
bohren und sich weiterbewegen mit einem ganz leisen Geräusch. Ein elektrisierendes Knistern durchfährt meinen
ganzen Körper. Doch der Höhepunkt ist die Berührung mit meinem Mund. Langsam nähert sich die Hand, hält noch
einmal vor meinem Gesicht inne, so dass ich die schönen, langen, schwarz lackierten Nägel noch einmal in Ruhe
betrachten kann. Dann streckt sich ein Finger vor, ganz vorsichtig berührt die Fingerkuppe meine Lippen, ganz leicht
spüre ich den Nagel.
Dann dreht sich der Finger um, die glatte, etwas kühle Oberseite des Nagels streicht mehrmals über meine Lippen,
dann erneut die Kuppe und die Nagelspitze. Diesmal kann ich deutlicher die Unterseite des Fingernagels spüren, der
sich langsam zwischen meine Lippen schiebt. Besonders schön ist das Gefühl den Nagel mit der Zunge abzulecken,
erst von oben, dann von unten, wobei sich die Zunge ganz unter den Nagel tastet, beim Daumennagel geht es am
besten, weil er am breitesten ist. Je länger die Nägel sind, desto mehr Fläche kann von der Zunge ertastet werden,
desto größer ist der Reiz. Schön ist es auch, wenn vielleicht der kleine Fingernagel oder ein anderer etwas länger ist
als die anderen, so dass er erst am Ende, als Krönung an die Reihe kommt.
So erregend ich dies alles bereits finde, so reicht es doch noch immer nicht. Es kommt noch das Moment des
Zwangs hinzu, das dann den eigentlichen Kick ausmacht. Doch hier beginnt es, wirklich paradox und absurd zu
werden. Ich stelle mir vor, lange Fingernägel abstoßend und ekelerregend zu finden. Ich stelle mir vor, dass ich einer
Frau ausgeliefert bin - aus welchen Gründen auch immer, es gibt so viele Varianten...
Dass ich ihr ausgeliefert oder von ihr abhängig bin, ohne mich wehren zu können, und dass sie mich mit ihren
Fingernägeln quält. Sie ist sehr stolz auf ihre langen Krallen, legt größten Wert darauf, sich dafür bewundern und
anbeten zu lassen. Sie liebt es, den ihr wehrlos Ausgelieferten zu kratzen, sich ihre Fingernägel von ihm ablecken zu
lassen. Zuvor hat sie ihre Nägel liebevoll gefeilt, frisch lackiert, sie freut sich über den Anblick. Nichts reizt sie mehr,
als den Rücken und das Hinterteil dieses über einen Hocker gefesselten Wurms zu bearbeiten, bis die ganze Haut
von roten Kratzern überzogen ist. Auch an den intimsten und empfindlichsten Stellen macht sie nicht halt.
Sie freut sich über die verängstigten, aber auch faszinierten Blicke auf ihre langen Krallen, über die Lippen und die
Zunge, die ihren Nägeln die nötige Achtung erweisen. Ich versuche mich zu weigern, mich zu wehren, doch sie bringt
mich unter Strafandrohung, vielleicht auch Schlägen oder anderen kleinen Erziehungsmaßnahmen dazu, ihrem
Willen zu gehorchen. Ja, am Ende bringt sie mich, der ich mich in Schmerzen winde, sogar dazu, sie darum
anzuflehen, ihre Fingernägel in den Mund nehmen zu dürfen... So schließt sich der paradoxe Kreis: Das was ich über
alles liebe, was mich am allermeisten erregt, hasse ich in der Fiktion und werde doch gezwungen es gegen meinen
Willen zu lieben. Zwang und Abhängigkeit sind ein wichtiger Bestandteil meiner sexuellen Phantasien, aber im
Mittelpunkt stehen doch immer die Fingernägel.
Einige sehr schöne Bilder im Internet haben mich außerdem inzwischen zu der Erkenntnis gebracht, dass auch
gepflegte lange Zehnägel ihren erotischen Reiz haben. Vielleicht ist das eine Ergänzung und Weiterführung des
Spiels mit den Hornplatten an den Enden der Glieder des menschlichen Körpers, des Spiels mit Zwang und Ekel -
selbst wenn es nur ein vermeintlicher Zwang und Ekel ist. Ich werde nicht versuchen zu erklären, woher diese
Leidenschaft rührt, sie ist einfach da, sie war immer da. Alle Erklärungsversuche, die zum Fetischismus allgemein
kursieren, vermögen mich nicht wirklich zu überzeugen. Schon als pubertierender Junge habe ich die bereits im
Altpapier befindlichen Zeitschriften meiner Mutter nach Bildern von Fingernägeln durchforstet (Nagellackwerbung
etc.), während andere Jungen vermutlich eher nach Nacktphotos Ausschau hielten.
Ich habe mit Hingabe Frauenhände gezeichnet. So kam eine beachtliche Sammlung von Bildern zusammen, die ich
allerdings immer versteckte und irgendwann in einem Anfall von Verzweiflung vernichtete.
Später suchte und suche ich Bilder im Internet. Immer hat mich der Anblick langer Fingernägel erregt, egal wo, egal,
ob die Trägerin gut aussah, ob sie alt oder jung war. Nur offensichtlich künstliche Fingernägel reizen mich in der
Regel weniger. Und immer schon war da auch der Wunsch nach Zwang, nach Nötigung und bis zu einem gewissen
Grad nach Schmerz. Dennoch würde ich einfach mal die Behauptung aufstellen, dass letzteres sekundär ist, dass es
zunächst einmal die Fingernägel sind, die mich erregen. Seltsamerweise gibt es durchaus auch Fälle, wo mich
extrem kurze Nägel erotisch ansprechen. Ich weiß nicht, ob es der Kontrast zu meinen sonstigen Wünschen ist, oder
was sonst. Jedenfalls ertappe ich mich immer wieder dabei, dass ich Frauen in der Stadt, in der Straßenbahn oder
wo auch immer, heimlich auf die Hände spähe, dass ich, wenn mich diese ansprechend finde, kaum den Blick von
ihnen wenden kann, während ich zugleich Angst habe, dass die dermaßen Angestarrte es bemerkt.
LustSchmerz Fetisch: Stiefel
"Der erste Stiefelkuss " - Ein Erlebnisbericht von Uwe
Ich gehe auf sie zu, mit einem dicken Kloß im Hals. Kleine Schweißperlen stehen auf
meiner Stirn. Ich fluche innerlich darüber, dass ich es tun muss. Und doch weiß ich,
dass kein Weg daran vorbei führt. Ich muss sie ansprechen, es ihr sagen. Ich muss.
Ich muss. Ich muss. Sie hat mich in ihrem Netz gefangen. Im Vorbeigehen. Sie hat
noch nicht einmal bemerkt, dass sie mich am Haken hat. Sie steht dort an der
Schaufensterscheibe. Ein guter Ort. Ein guter Zeitpunkt.
"Entschuldigen Sie, meine Dame..." Sie dreht sich um, sieht mich erstaunt an. So ist
sie vermutlich noch nie angesprochen worden. Jetzt, wo ich vor ihr stehe, schätze ich
sie auf Anfang Fünfzig.
"Ja..., bitte...?" sagt sie. Ich merke, dass ihr Blick zwischen meinen Augen und dem Halsband mit dem Ring, das ich
trage, zögernd hin- und herspringt. Unauffällig und leise atme ich tief ein, fülle meine Lungen mit dem Geruch des
frischen schwarzen Leders, das sie trägt.
"Es klingt jetzt vielleicht aufdringlich, aber ich muss Ihnen sagen, dass ich Sie schon seit einiger Zeit unauffällig
verfolge....", beginne ich.
"So?" antwortet sie kurz und wartet misstrauisch auf meine weiteren Erläuterungen.
"Ja..., haben Sie vielleicht ein Viertelstündchen Zeit, um mit mir in dem CafI dort drüben etwas zu trinken?" versuche
ich mein Glück.
"Wie bitte? Ich kenne Sie überhaupt nicht, was soll diese Frage?" antwortet sie leise aber bestimmt. Sie beugt sich
leicht zu mir vor, was das Leder ihres langen schwarzen Mantels zum Knirschen bringt. Mich schaudert.
"Nun..., natürlich..., Entschuldigung, ich heiße Uwe Ochsmann..." bringe ich zögernd hervor, "und ich möchte Sie
fragen, ob... Sie schon jemanden in Diensten haben, der sich um die Pflege ihrer Stiefel kümmert..." Jetzt ist es raus.
Ich spüre, dass ich hochrot im Gesicht angelaufen bin.
Sie starrt mich an. Ist verblüfft. Dann schaut sie an sich herab. Ihr Blick folgt ihren Beinen, die in einer gut
geschnittenen schwarzen Lederhose stecken, hinab zu ihren schwarzen Lederstiefelletten mit den kleinen Riemchen
und dem bleistiftspitzen Zwölf-Zentimeter-Absatz. Es folgt eine lange Pause.
"Entschuldigung...", sagt sie schließlich, "aber ich verstehe ihre Frage nicht recht." Dann schaut sie an mir herab, ich
bin Mitte dreißig, schlank. Ihr Blick streift das schwarze Lederjackett und die schwarze Lederhose, die ich trage und
bleibt dann wieder an meinem Halsband hängen. Liegt da ein flüchtiges Lächeln auf ihren Lippen?
"Nun, sehen Sie, Sie tragen viel Leder, den Mantel, die Hose, diese wunderbaren Stiefelletten, und da dachte ich,
vielleicht heißt das, dass Sie..., dass Sie eine dominante Ader haben und sich über jemanden freuen würden, der
Ihnen Ihre Stiefel und Füße pflegt und Ihnen das Tragen Ihrer Taschen abnimmt... und Ihnen das Leben angenehmer
macht..."
Sie schaut mich stumm an, versucht scheinbar mühsam einzuordnen, was ich ihr da gerade gesagt habe. "Sie geben
mir den Kaffee aus, ja?" fragt sie schließlich. "Ja, selbstverständlich", antworte ich schnell. "Na, dann gehen Sie mal
voran." Sagt sie leise. "Gern", antworte ich.
Das ganze Gespräch findet in einer der eleganten Einkaufspassagen statt, mit denen die Düsseldorfer Königsallee
reich gesegnet ist. In der Mitte der sternförmigen Passage gibt es ein Rondell mit einem offenen CafI. Es ist nach
wenigen Schritten erreicht. Ich habe mich nicht umgesehen und bekomme jetzt ein wenig Angst, dass sie hinter mir
einfach in einem anderen Gang verschwunden ist. Doch als ich einen freien Tisch in der Mitte erreicht habe, taucht
sie neben mir auf. Sie stellt ihre Einkauftasche auf einen freien Stuhl und will gerade ihren Mantel ablegen, da bin ich
auch schon hinter ihr und helfe ihr. Kurz zuckt sie zusammen, lässt es dann aber geschehen. Ich lege den Mantel
sorgfältig neben ihr über die Stuhllehne. Unter dem Mantel trägt sie einen mittelblauen, weich-fliessenden
Angorapullover. Ich sehe, dass ihre Lederhose am Gesäß keine Taschen hat, sodass sich der kühle Stoff fest um ihr
Gesäß legt. Sie ist für eine Fünfzigjährige sehr schlank, mittelgroß und sehr gepflegt. Ihre Haare sind schwarz mit
grauen Strähnchen, sie ist dezent geschminkt, hat dunkelrot lackierte Fingernägel und ist umgeben von einem
leichten Hauch eines mir unbekannten Parfums. Ihre Falten erhöhen für mich den Reiz ihrer erotischen Ausstrahlung.
Ich setze mich ihr gegenüber, nachdem ich mein Jackett ausgezogen habe. Das Halsband wird weitgehend vom
Kragen meines dunkelblauen Hemdes verdeckt. Bis zu diesem Punkt hatte ich mich innerlich vorbereitet, jetzt gerate
ich ins Stocken und überlege, wie ich das eigentliche Gespräch beginnen kann. Auch sie scheint plötzlich
verunsichert, lacht mich aber zögernd und mit einem kleinen Glucksen an.
"Ja, bitte?" sage ich und lache zurück. "Später, erst sind Sie dran!" antwortet sie. Und dann: "Ich hätte gern einen
Milchkaffee. Das müsste schnell gehen, ich habe tatsächlich nur eine Viertelstunde Zeit." Ich nicke, stehe auf und
laufe der Kellnerin in die Arme, der ich unsere eilige Kaffeebestellung antrage.
Nachdem ich mich wieder gesetzt habe, nimmt sie die Initiative in die Hand. "Machen Sie sowas öfter?" fragt sie.
"Was meinen Sie?" antworte ich.
"Nun, eine Frau zu verfolgen, sie irgendwann anzusprechen, sie auf einen Kaffee einzuladen und ihr zu offenbaren,
dass sie ihre Stiefel putzen wollen, das meine ich", gibt sie zurück.
"Nein, ich habe es mich heute zum ersten Male getraut. Verfolgt habe ich auch schon andere, aber noch keine
angesprochen."
"Soso, und das soll ich Ihnen glauben?"
"Warum nicht?"
Sie atmet einmal tief ein und aus und fragt dann: "Warum ich?"
"Nun, sie tragen soviel Leder, haben einen festen..., dominanten Schritt, wenn ich das so sagen darf. Sie scheinen zu
wissen, was sie wollen. Das strahlen Sie aus. Und Sie sind - ich hoffe, das beleidigt Sie nicht - eine erfahrene Frau in
einem sehr anziehenden Alter. Ich habe gehofft, dass das erleichtert, dass Sie mich verstehen." Sie schaut mich an,
sagt aber nichts. "Sie werden es wahrscheinlich schon ahnen, aber ich..., ich bin ein Fetischist, ein Leder- und
Stiefel- Fetischist mit devoten Neigungen. Ihre Ausstrahlung berührt mich, regt mich an. Ich wollte unbedingt wissen,
ob dahinter eine dominante Frau steckt, eine, die bewusst weiß, was sie ausstrahlt. Und wenn das so wäre und ich
ihnen sympathisch bin, dann würde ich mich freuen, wenn ich Sie näher kennen lernen dürfte."
"Hhm...", macht sie, "Sie sind mutig, das muss ich Ihnen lassen." Die Kellnerin bringt die Kaffees, wir klammern uns
dankbar an die Tassen.
"Ich hoffe, ich enttäusche Sie nicht, wenn ich Ihnen sage, dass ich dese Lederkleidung und die Stiefel nicht anziehe,
um die Aufmerksamkeit von Menschen mit Ihrer Neigung auf mich zu ziehen. Aber ich würde lügen, wenn ich sagte,
ich wüsste nicht, wie sie wirkt." Jetzt schaue ich sie stumm an. "Ich habe auch keine dominanten Züge, zumindest
habe ich sie noch nicht entdeckt...", lächelt sie. "Aber jetzt etwas anderes: Sie sind doch sicher, sagen wir, fünfzehn
Jahre jünger als ich, ich bin verheiratet. Haben Sie keine Freundin?"
"Doch", antworte ich. Sie ist verblüfft. "Sie weiß, dass ich mich früher oder später das traue, was ich mich heute
getraut habe."
"Puh, und das geht gut?" fragt sie.
"Bis jetzt wunderbar", antworte ich.
Sie nimmt zwei Schlucke Kaffee und sieht auf die Uhr. "Also ehrlich gesagt weiß ich nicht recht, was ich davon halten
soll."
"Das kann ich mir vorstellen", sage ich schnell, "ich gebe Ihnen jetzt meine Telefonnummer und Sie können mich
anrufen, wenn Sie möchten."
Und dann?", will sie wissen.
"Nun, wir könnten uns wiedersehen, ich helfe Ihnen beim Einkauf, trage ihre Taschen, mache mich nützlich und
würde mich freuen, wenn Sie mir erlauben würden, zum Abschied Ihre Stiefel zu küssen."
"Was, jetzt und hier?" fragt sie erschrocken. Ich weiß, dass ich mit dem Feuer spiele, Top oder Flop, ich weiß, dass
ich sehr weit gehe. Zu weit?
"Oh, da ist mir etwas runtergefallen", sage ich, beuge mich unter den Tisch, bevor sie wahrnehmen kann, was
passiert. Da sind ihre Füße in den wunderschönen Stiefelletten. Ihr Kopf taucht unter der Tischkannte auf.
"Lassen Sie den Bödsinn!!" zischt sie. Also Flop! Ich stehe langsam wieder auf, weiß nicht, wo ich hinsehen soll und
murmele ein "Entschuldigung".
"Schon gut", sagt sie, "Sie sind mir nur ein bisschen zu schnell. Begleiten Sie mich noch zur U-Bahn?" Ich schlucke.
"Aber beeilen Sie sich!"
Bevor ich verdattert wahrnehme, dass das ein Angebot ist, hat sie schon den Mantel an, die Tasche in der Hand und
sucht ihren Weg zwischen den Tischen hindurch zum Ausgang. Ich hole schnell mein Portemonnaie hervor, 20-Euro
ist der kleinste Schein, den ich habe. Egal, ich klemme ihn unter meine Untertasse, rufe der Kellnerin zu, das Geld
liege auf dem Tisch und haste meiner Unbekannten Lederdame hinterher, die schon 50 Meter Vorsprung hat. Ich
hole sie am Ende der Passage ein, von dort geht es direkt in den U-Bahn-Schacht. Mein Herz rast wie wild. Ich fahre
wortlos hinter ihr die Rolltreppe herunter. Sie sieht sich nicht um. Als wir auf dem Bahnsteig ankommen, fährt schon
eine Bahn ein. "Mist", denke ich. Doch was macht sie? Sie wartet das rege Treiben ab, lässt die Bahn anfahren und
beobachtet, wie sich der Bahnsteig wieder leert. Dann sieht sie mich schelmisch an, sagt "Komm!" und verschwindet
hinter dem nächsten breiten Betonpfeiler. Ich folge ihr nach, sie sieht mir in die Augen und sagt: "Jetzt darfst Du mir
die Stiefel küssen." Ich schwebe, ich zittere, ich tue es. Zwei lange feste Küsse auf jede Stiefelspitze. Die Zeit steht
still. Wie in Watte gepackt höre ich eine Horde Jugendlicher die Rolltreppe herunterkommen.
"Es ist gut!" sagt sie, "Steh auf!" Ich gehorche, senke unwillkürlich meinen Blick. "Du tust es also tatsächlich..." sagt
sie langsam. Und dann: "Gib mir Deine Telefonnummer..."
Stiefelküsse: Von besonderer Ehrerbietung und ehrlicher Hingabe
Es existieren die unterschiedlichsten Tricks und Kniffe der dominanten Damenwelt um
angeblich einen perfekten Sklaven erkennen zu können. Mir persönlich ist der perfekte
Sklave egal, ich glaube nicht dass es ihn gibt und das ist auch gut so. :)
Aber ich bin mir sicher, daß wahre, ehrliche und tief gefühlte Hingabe existiert und um
diese festzustellen benötige ich keinen violetten Bizarr-Workshop sondern einen
kleinen Augenblick der Ruhe. Ein Moment, in dem ich dem geneigten Sklaven meinen
Fuß zum Kuß anbiete, genügt vollkommen um die Spreu vom Weizen zu trennen und
möglicherweise mein Interesse zu wecken.
Daß ich den Fuß anbiete, ist bereits Teil eins der Regel, denn mal ehrlich meine
Damen, was gibt es Schlimmeres als einen potentiellen Kandidaten der sich ungefragt
zu Boden wirft, noch bevor er überlegt in die Gunst aufgenommen wurde?Nein, ich biete mit einem intensiven
Blickkontakt an, erteile die Erlaubnis mir einen Versuch seiner Demut zu zollen und je schneller das Objekt dieser
Aufforderung nachkommt, um so schneller hat er seine eben errungene Chance auch schon wieder vertan.
Das ist Teil zwei der Regel: kein unterwürfiger Kriecher, kein spontanter Stiefellecker, kein sabbernder Schnellküsser
erreicht mein Herz und meine Aufmerksamkeit und Mann irrt, so er mit wilder Begeisterung die meine entfachen will.
Die Entdeckung der Langsamkeit steht dem gut zu Gesicht, der es künftig unter meinen Sohlen begraben wissen will,
und der Weg dorthin führt über Glaubhaftigkeit. Über den respaktablen Umgang mit meiner Gunst. Über die bewusste
Entscheidung meine Einladung an- und die eigene Stärke abzulegen.
Ich will seinen Blick sehen, wenn er den meinen verstanden hat.
Will das bedächtige Wahrnehmen erkennen, ein leichtes Schließen der Augen, das Durchatmen, wenn sich Körper
und Geist zu einem uneingeschränkten JA ergeben.
Erst dann ist es Zeit den Kopf zu senken und aufrecht in die Knie zu gehen. Kein Widerspruch, nein. Ich will seinen
Nacken sehen, der sich langsam aber überzeugend verbeugt, der annimmt wohin seine Sehnsucht in treibt. Ganz
und gar. Ohne Klischee und dummdreiste Unterwürfigkeit.
Ich erwarte zu meinen Füssen den Galan, der mit einem Moment Verzögerung die Stirn auf den Boden legt, bevor er
mit geöffneter Seele und geschlossenen Lippen meinen Stiefel berührt, verharrt, ankommt. Bewegungslos. Ohne
beherzten Griff zum direkten Ziel seiner Begierde.
Ich will ihn warten sehen. Freiwillig und zeitlos aufgehoben.
Kein Rutschen auf den Knien, keine Anspannung im Rücken, kein langsames Vortasten über den Rist hinaus.
Geduld und Wahrheit will ich in ihm erkennen, und damit die Hingabe für die ich mich wirklich begeistern kann.
Nur wer mir diese fast meditative Kunst der Devotion zu zeigen bereit ist, mit mir und meinem spitzen Stiefelwerk
mehr als nur reinen Fetisch verbindet, sich vor meinem Absatz zurücknimmt und wahrhaftig angekommen ist... wird
auch zu einem späteren Zeitpunkt Hingabe und temporäre Selbstaufgabe nicht missen lassen und hat sich den Platz
zu meinen Füssen verdient.
High Heels: Von spitzen Absätzen und spitzen Momenten
Marilyn Monroe sagte einmal: "Ich weiß nicht, welcher Mann den High Heel erfand,
aber er hat uns Frauen damit ein großen Gefallen erwiesen". Ein großes Kompliment
aus dem Mund einer wahren Göttin, aber es ist wohl nur richtig noch eine weitere
Tatsache anzuhängen: auch Männer haben allen Grund diesem unbekannten Erfinder
dankbar zu sein.
Es gibt wohl kaum einen Geschlechtsgenossen, der vom Anblick eines schlanken
Frauenfußes in Pumps mit hohen Absätzen nicht angetan wäre. Bereits der Blick
darauf verschafft erotische Gefühle und wenn wir ganz ehrlich sind, dann suggeriert
der Anblick eines solchen Szenarios noch viel mehr: dass die Trägerin ein lustvolles
Wesen ist und nicht nur versteht mit dieser Lust zu spielen, sondern sie ganz bewusst
einsetzt um damit zu verführen. Eine echte Hexe eben. Eine, die Spiele mag und ihren
Part darin rundum erfüllt. Und so muss es wohl auch sein, warum sonst würde eine Frau schmerzende Fußsohlen
und glühende Ballen auf sich nehmen?
Womöglich weil sie vom schwingenden Gang und dem Hüftschwung weiß, die ihr das neckische Schuhwerk
bescheren. Weil sie größer und imposanter trotz möglicher Zartheit wird und ihre Silhouette eine Eleganz erhält, die
Männer träumen lässt. Die aktiven Herren lieben ihren kurzen, tippelnden Schritt. Das Opfer, dem die schnelle Flucht
verwehrt, dafür aber die heldenhafte männliche Stütze sicher ist. Ob bei der Überquerung einer Strasse, oder
zuhause am Kreuz - zitternde Frauenbeine auf hohen Stilettos lassen keinen Mann kalt. Während die passiven
Genießer sicherlich der Ohnmacht und Hingabe verfallen, die der fast schwebende Fuß auslöst. Es mag an der
Perspektive liegen, denn Mann muss sich tief in den Staub begeben, um dem Objekt seiner Begierde nahe zu sein.
Von unten betrachtet, wachsen die Beine der Herrin in den Himmel, während die schwindelerregende Stehfläche
Geschichten von Schmerz und Macht erzählt.
Oh ja, es lässt sich prächtig dienen und dahinschmelzen vor exquisit gekleideten Füssen. Sanft das Leder zu lecken,
den Rist zu bezüngeln um schließlich am spitzen Absatz zu saugen... Die Dame verschenkt ihre Gunst und Herr
Sklave kriecht hingebungsvoll um diese wirklich zu verdienen. Dahinter steht das Spiel mit Macht. Ein Rollenspiel
kompletter Unterwerfung -zumindest für den Moment - das manchem Mann nicht lang genug andauern kann. Es hat
ja auch einen besonderen Reiz dem Zarten zu frönen - gerade wenn eben dieses Zarte auch Vergnügen daran findet
mit seinem selbstgewählten bizarr-schönen Instrument auf dem Körper des Starken zu spielen.
Meine Damen... erlauben sie sich doch einmal die Hände ihres Galan mit Ihren Füssen zu belasten. Laufen sie über
seine Handrücken, drücken sie ihm ihren Absatz ins Fleisch... keine Angst, der Gute hält schon etwas aus.
Sie können sich Stiefel vorstellen? Wunderbar! Machen sie bereits aus dem gemeinsamen Einkauf ein Event, von
dem Ihr Opfer noch lange zehren kann. Probieren Sie, testen Sie verschiedene Modelle und fragen sie um seine
Meinung, - sie werden ein erwartungsvolles Zittern in seiner Stimme vernehmen. Überlassen Sie es ihm, Ihre Stiefel
zu schnüren und heissen Sie ihm in der Hocke zu verbleiben, wenn sie weiblich stolz die neuen Traumerfüller auf ihre
Passform testen. Sein erster Blick von unten wird Ihre Weichen stellen und Ihnen einen zum Bersten erfreuten Mann
an die Seite geben.
Auch wenn Sie selbst bisher vielleicht nicht von oberschenkellangen Schäften geträumt haben, - Ihr Fetischist hat
lange, durchwachte Nächte damit verbracht. Lassen sie ihn vor sich knien und nutzen sie seinen Körper, der eine
hervorragende Fußbank abgibt. Auch falls Sie es nicht glauben mögen, - er wird unter ihren ledernen Berührungen
erzittern.
Sie sehen seinen einladenden Po vor sich? Leicht geölt wird Ihr Absatz in seinem Anus ihn rasend machen, während
sie abfällig davon erzählen, welch verdorbenen Kerl Sie hier vor sich sehen.
Und vielleicht fällt beim nächsten Einkauf ja noch ein Paar in großer Größe für ihn ab. Nicht wenige Stiefelfetischisten
wagen kaum den größten Traum zu träumen: selbst auf 15 cm Höhe balancieren zu lernen, ihre weibliche Seite zu
leben und dabei zumindest am Anfang ein sehr lächerliches Bild abzugeben.
Spielen Sie, experimentieren Sie, genießen Sie Ihre Macht und lassen Sie ihn diese spüren. Sie sind eine Göttin, Sie
sind die Frau seiner Träume. Und: Sie haben die Stiefel an...
-
Nails to Die For
Nails to Die For
Bob was a freelance web designer and a geek, and because of his shy personality it
wasnt easy for him to get clients, so he worked hard but didnt make a lot of money. He
drove a ten year old Honda Civic, dressed from Walmart, and lived in a little rented one-
bedroom duplex. Between his shyness and his lack of financial success, women werent
exactly throwing themselves at him, in fact most of the time he struck out asking
someone for a date, and on the few occasions someone agreed to go out with him, the
evening ususally ended right after dinner with a handshake. It didnt help much that Bob
always set his sights on women who were way out of his league, developing infatuations
that always ended with rejection. In fact he lost count of the number of times he was
given the "youre a great guy but I like you as a friend" brush-off line. It was so
frustrating for him to see beautiful women everywhere in daily life, yet know he didnt
stand a chance with any of them. So, more and more he stayed in his apartment and
fantasized over X-rated movies and internet porn.
One morning Bob went down to the basement to take his laundry out of the coin-op
washer and put it in the dryer, and there he saw a young woman sitting indian-style on
top of the washer, reading a paperback romance. She was wearing a white t-shirt with
some bands logo printed on it and a pair of cutoff jeans and flipflops. Her collar-length
brown hair was in stubby pigtails and she wore no makeup. "Is that your stuff in the
washer?" she asked Bob. "Yeah," Bob answered meekly. "Im Emily," she said,
sticking her hand out. "Bob," he said quietly, shaking her hand. He noticed that Emily
wasnt wearing any kind of wedding, engagement or "friendship" ring. Bob also noticed
Emilys hands, with short, manicured nails and no polish. Her toenails were also without
polish, short and well-cared-for. She was your typical girl-next-door, Bob decided. "I
havent seen you before," Emily said, adjusting her pigtails. "I usually do my laundry in
the middle of the night," Bob answered. "Well, then this must be my lucky day," Emily
said with a warm laugh and flashing a bright smile of straight, white teeth. "Lucky?
How?" Bob asked in his typical loser style, failing completely to pick up on her signals.
"Youre the first really cute guy Ive seen in the neighborhood since I moved in last
month," Emily said. She held her arms out, but again Bob missed her meaning. "Can
you help me down, please?" Emily asked. "Oh, uh, sure," Bob muttered, and she put her
hands on his shoulders and after a minute of awkward fumbling he figured out to hold her
sides under her arms. She slid off the washer and thanked him. Emily was 510" in
flipflops and she looked straight into Bobs eyes for several seconds. Her brown eyes
were warm and inviting and she had that perfect smile across her face again. Bob was
dying to ask her out but his insecurity held his tongue captive. "I have a little problem,
maybe you can help?" Emily asked him. "Well, uh, OK, I mean Ill try," Bob mumbled.
Emily went on. "I made way too much lasagna last night and I cant possibly eat it all by
myself. Would you like to share it with me?" Bob was ready to say that he didnt care
for lasagna but finally the light began to go on behind the thick wall of insecurity that
constant rejection had built around him. "Sure, OK, what time should I come over?" Bob
asked. "Oh, gee, the thing is, I still have boxes of stuff I havent unpacked, and I only
have one kitchen chair. How about if I bring the lasagna over to your place and we eat
there?" she asked. "OK, sure," Bob agreed. "Great!" Emily said. "What time?" Bob
asked. "Im working till nine, it takes me about an hour to get home, then I want to take
a shower and change, so how about 11:00?" Emily said. "Eating lasagna at 11:00 will
give me heartburn and I wont be able to sleep," Bob said. Emily laughed, and then she
put her hands on Bobs shoulders and put her face very close to his, with her nose to one
side of his nose and her lips just missing his by fractions of an inch. He could feel her
warm breath, and a slight wave of dizziness came over him and he got instantly hard.
She said really soft, "You wont need to worry about sleeping tonight." It had been a
long time since a woman had touched Bob, and no woman had ever come on to him
before in his life, and he started to sweat.
At precisely 11:00 Bob heard a knock on his door and when he opened it there stood
Emily, carrying a paper plate covered with foil. Her collar-length hair was styled
fashionably, and she was wearing a short black lace see-through top with a black bra
underneath, and a short black leather skirt. Her midriff was bare and she had a tiny,
silver bellybutton piercing. She had on black fishnet pantyhose and black patent-leather
open-toed shoes with 6-inch stiletto heels, so she was half a foot taller than Bob. Her
face had just a touch of makeup…some subtle eye shadow, a little blush, and some clear
lip gloss…but it was enough to transform her from the wholesome girl-next-door Bob
had met that morning, to the woman of his wet dreams. Bob gaped at Emily until she
finally said, "May I come in?" "Oh, sure, yeah, sorry," Bob spluttered, flustered by
Emilys sexy appearance, and he took the plate from her and she walked in to his little
living room. Bob set the plate of lasagna on the coffee table and removed the foil. He
brought a couple forks, but then he noticed that the lasagna was almost room temperature.
"It isnt very hot," he said weakly, poking his finger into the lasagna. Emily took Bobs
hand and put the tip of his finger into her bellybutton, next to the tiny silver stud. She
lowered her lips to his and said in a sultry way, "But, Im hot." The feeling of dizziness
came over him again as he inhaled her sweet breath, and he became instantly hard. Again
he was desperate to taste her kiss, but again she moved her lips away. "Im hungry,"
Emily said. "Ill just put the lasagna in the microwave," Bob said quickly. "Im not
hungry for lasagna," she said, her eyes burning with lust. Bob suddenly realized that
Emilys brown eyes were now green, but he hadnt seen her put contacts in. "Lets go
upstairs," she said. "I use the bedroom for my office. This is the, uh, this is where I
sleep," Bob said. Emily shoved the coffee table with her stiletto-heeled foot, and the
heavy table slid across the room and slammed into the wall. Bob hastily threw off the
cushions of his cheap hide-a-bed and grabbed the handle, pulling hard to get the bed to
unfold. Emily brushed Bob aside and took the handle and with ease she flung the bed
open. "Youre really strong!" Bob said. "Yes, I am," Emily said, walking around behind
Bob. She grabbed the collar of his shirt with one hand and tore it off his back in one
motion. "Hey, what the? That was a good shirt!" Bob said, turning around to face
Emily. Her coiffed hair was kind of touseled and had a reddish cast under the light that
he hadnt noticed before. Stranger still, it looked longer, down to her shoulders. Bob
started saying something to Emily about her hair but she ignored him and started to kiss
his neck, and his words trailed off into babbling nonsense. Emily kissed and licked his
ear. Bobs arms were as rigid as was his cock inside his pants, and Emily gently guided
his hands to her bare midriff and around to the small of her back, and she kissed along his
face to his mouth and opened her lips. Her breath had an exotic perfume to it and Bob
became so dizzy he collapsed onto the bed. He watched weakly as Emily removed her
see-through top and unfastened her black bra, freeing her luscious firm breasts. She
massaged her large nipples and they perked out an inch from her large areolas. Then
Emily took off her short black skirt, so she was wearing only crotchless black fishnets
and her open-toed stiletto-heeled shoes. She undid Bobs belt and pulled his pants off
quickly by the cuffs, then she removed his socks. His dick strained painfully against the
fabric of his briefs. Emily crawled like a reptile on top of him and kissed him gently on
his lips, then harder and harder and finally she opened her mouth and snaked her tongue
into his mouth. Emilys tongue-stud teased the roof of Bobs mouth and he played with it
with his tongue. When Emily sat up, Bob was still reeling from her kiss but he could see
that her hair was much longer and much redder and very wild-looking and a little voice
inside him began to say, "Somethings not right about this chick." Emily sat on Bobs
hips and ran the heels of her palms up his chest, then curled her fingertips and scraped her
short, manicured nails back down to his waist. Bob moaned in ecstasy. "You like that,
dont you?" she said, and Bob nodded and said, "Oh yeah, baby. Thats it, use your
nails." "Ok, I will," Emily said. Something in the way she said it made Bob open his
eyes just as her hands came up his chest to his collarbone, and he saw that her formerly
short fingernails were now nearly 2 inches long, gently curved, and tapered almost to
points. Bob wasnt an expert but it was obvious even to him that they werent fakes
shed just stuck on. No, those were real, natural fingernails, and now he knew there was
something very scary about Emily. "Y-your n-n-nails are…are…" Bob stammered in
fear and confusion. "…Are sooooooo long," Emily finished his sentence in a lusty
voice, "and soooooo sharp," and she pressed the tips of her long, curved fingernails into
him just below his collarbone and slowly dragged them down Bobs torso. Bobs eyes
bulged and he screamed out in pain as he watched his skin split open behind Emilys
nails, like eight parallel surgical incisions. As blood began to trickle from the scratches,
Emily innocently said, "Poor baby, did I scratch you?" Bob grabbed Emilys arms but it
was as if he had no strength at all. He writhed and twisted under her, and he began to
beat on her arms with his fists, then he started punching her in the chest and face as hard
as he could, but Emily just laughed and said, "Ooooh, it gets me sooooo hot when a guy
tries to fight me off." When Bob grabbed her long, wild red hair she caught his wrists
and held his arms solidly. "Ok, now, thats really annoying," she said, stabbing her
sharp, 2-inch-long thumbnails painfully into his palms. The pain quickly became
incredible and just as Bob screamed, her thumbnails burst through the backs of both his
hands with a spurt of blood, and protruded a full inch. She withdrew her left thumbnail
from his right palm slowly, the razor sharp edges of her nail causing Bob to scream again
in horrible pain, and then she sliced it sideways up his forearm, leaving a long hair-thin
cut with blood trickling from it. Bobs arm flopped to his side and he was unable to lift
it. Then, still impailing his left hand, Emily brought it up to her mouth and began to kiss
and nibble the underside of his wrist. Despite the pain of her thumbnail through his palm,
the feeling of her warm, wet mouth on his wrist made Bob get hard again. As she worked
her way up his forearm, Bob felt Emilys teeth start to prick him harder and harder until
he felt serious pain from her bites. Bob screamed in pain, and Emily looked down at him
with annoyance. His arm was bleeding and there was blood on Emilys lips. "Youre
such a baby!" she said. Her teeth were stained with his blood. "Oh shit! Are you
a…a…vampire?" Bob screamed. Emily shook back her wild mane of red hair and
laughed. "Of course not. Vampires kill for food, not for sport," she laughed. "A-are
you going to kill me?" Bob whimpered in terror. "Not unless I have to," she said. Bob
breathed a sigh of relief, but only for a second because then she went on to say, "Like, if
your heart happens to unfortunately be strong enough to withstand all the pain."
Emily withdrew her thumbnail from his left hand and let his bitten, bleeding arm flop to
his side. Then she stretched forward on top of Bob and put her face right above his.
Emily closed her eyes and frenched him, deep and hard. Bobs dick sprung erect again
and Emily clasped it between her fishnet-covered thighs. Bob wanted to embrace Emily
but his hands and arms hurt too much to try lifting them off the bed. The feeling of her
tongue-stud drove him insane, and Emily came up once for air and said, "Ooooh, you
really like my tongue piercing. You should have one, too." Emily put her hand on Bobs
face and he felt a sharp pain as one of Emilys fingernails pressed into his cheekbone. He
opened his eyes and saw her lift her finger and her 2-inch nail was coated with fresh
blood. Bob started to squirm but suddenly he felt like his head would explode from pain
and he looked down his nose and saw that Emily had the end of his tongue in her teeth
and was stretching it out of his mouth. He tried to lift his arms but they hurt too bad.
Emily laughed, and held her pinkie in front of Bobs face so he could see its narrow 2-
inch curved fingernail, then as he watched and screamed she pushed and twisted her nail
straight down into the center of his tongue until it was all the way through the underside,
then she slid her sharp nail up and down a few times, each motion causing more pain with
the razor-like edges. Finally Emily withdrew her nail from his tongue and held her pinkie
over his face, allowing Bob to watch the droplets of blood run down her 2-inch fingernail
and drip off the tip onto his forehead. "Too bad I dont have an extra stud," Emily said,
"because tongue piercings close up really fast otherwise. But at least now you sort of
know what to expect." "You fucking bitch!" Bob shouted trying to wriggle out from
under her.
"Is that any way to talk to a lady?" Emily asked angrily. And she dragged her 2-inch
sharp natural nails down his chest and stomach again, harder than before, making eight
more deep, bleeding cuts. Bob screamed in horrible pain and began to thrash his legs
under Emily. Emily stretched out her long legs and Bob heard a ripping sound and
watched as 1-inch pointed, curved toenails tore through the toes of her crotchless fishnet
pantyhose. Staring Bob down with her lustful green eyes Emily dug her curved, 1-inch
toenails into his ankle and dragged them slowly up his shin and repeated it several times,
while Bob screamed in pain and watched his leg turn into a mass of thin, bleeding cuts.
"Do you like my pedicure?" Emily asked with an evil smile.
Bobs terror produced a tremendous adrenaline rush and in a burst of strength he shoved
Emily off him and ran to the front door. In the split second when he turned to look
behind him, Emily leaped ten feet from the bed and was on him, slamming him against
the door. Her 2-inch curved sharp fingernails dug into his shoulders like the talons of an
eagle and she frenched him hard, sucking his swollen, wounded tongue into her mouth
and grabbing it in her teeth. Bob felt her stroke one foot up his leg to his hip and instinct
made him lurch sideways. He heard her pointed 1-inch toenails scrape the wooden door.
She pinned him harder against the door, and this time he was unable to move, and he
screamed as she buried her toenails in his thigh and clawed them very quickly all the way
down his leg. Emily released Bobs tongue from her teeth and let go of one shoulder.
Still impailing his other shoulder, Emily grabbed Bobs ass with her right hand, driving
her 2-inch nails deep into his flesh. With ease she lifted him a foot off the floor and
threw him ten feet back onto the bed as if he was weightless, and as Bob landed with a
crash on the cheap hide-a-bed, Emily lept from the doorway and landed on top of him.
She landed in a squatting position, her curved 1-inch toenails gouging into his hips and
her 2-inch fingernails dug deeply into his shoulders. Emily lowered her head and sealed
her mouth over Bobs and forced her breath into his lungs. Bob felt the room spinning
around, followed by a feeling of his arms and legs being made of lead. "That will keep
you still for a while," Emily said. Her 1-inch pointed toenails were still embedded in
Bobs hips, and Emily slowly clawed them down his legs until her legs were straight and
she was lying face-down on top of him. As Bob felt her toenails tear through his flesh he
let out a long, agonized scream.
Emily started to nibble on Bobs neck, which got him instantly hard. She worked her
way up to his ear and began sucking on his earlobe. "Oooooh, you have really nice, big
earlobes, they should really be pierced!" she said and suddenly she bit down hard on his
left earlobe and pulled it taut. Bob shook with wide-eyed terror and screamed in horrible
pain as she spiked the 2-inch nail of her pinkie through his left earlobe. Emilys lips and
teeth were red with blood as she smiled at Bob, and with him sobbing, "Noooo!" Emily
nibbled her way up the other side of his neck and he felt her hot mouth on his right
earlobe, followed by another explosion of pain as she pulled it with her teeth, and then
the agony of her slowly drilling her fingernail through his right earlobe. "Lets see, what
other piercings shall we do?" she asked Bob. He was sobbing in terror and tears were
streaming from his eyes. Emily wiped his tears onto her fingertip, at the same time
slicing a small gash in his cheek with her razor sharp 2-inch curved fingernail. She put
her finger in her mouth and sucked it. "Mmmmmm, blood tastes good with a little salt.
Should I become a vampire?" she asked Bob, who could only lie there whimpering and
praying, and in the next second he felt her hot, wet mouth on his neck followed by the
rapidly increasing pain of her sharp teeth as she bit him harder and harder. Bob howled
and his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out from the pain. "Dammit!" she
said. Emily got some ice from Bobs freezer and made a large pitcher of icewater and
came back to the bed and doused some of it on Bobs face and he came-to. "Hi lover,
welcome back to the party," Emily said, clutching Bobs face in her hand. Her 2-inch
fingernails were so sharp that with very little pressure, blood started to trickle. Emily lay
down on top of Bob and rested her face sideways on his chest. Suddenly she looked up at
Bob with a bright grin. "Ooooh! I know! Lets pierce your nipples!" she said all
excitedly.
Emily ran her hands over Bobs nipples and scraped them very lightly with the tip of her
nail, and even though Bob tried to will them not to, his nipples perked up. Emily smiled
and licked his left nipple, then she sucked it, and then she grabbed it in her teeth and
pulled it an inch above his chest. Bob clenched his teeth and whimpered. Then he
watched as Emily pierced her 2-inch left pinkienail sideways through his stretched
nipple. She released her teeth but left her nail in place, and then she went over to his
right nipple, pulled it hard with her teeth, and pierced it with her right 2-inch pinkenail.
Bobs head lurched backward and thrashed from side to side, his mouth wide open and
high-pitched screaming like a girl, as Emily lifted Bobs upper body a couple inches off
the bed by her 2" curved fingernails impailed through his nipples. She quickly pulled her
nails out of him and he flopped back onto the bed, heaving sobs of pain.
Emily got up and said, "You dont mind if I have a drink, do you? I probably shouldnt
though, because liquor tends to release my inhibitions." And she walked over to the
kitchen and took a 12-ounce water tumbler from the cupboard, added a couple cubes of
ice, and poured it full with 100-proof whiskey. She brought the glass and the bottle back
and sat on the bed next to Bob. "Awww, those look kind of sore," she said about his
swollen, bleeding nipples. Emily gently rubbed the ice-cold, wet glass over his nipples.
It felt very good to Bob, and took away some of the pain. "Ooopsy!" Emily said, pouring
a few drops of the 100-proof whiskey onto his nipples. Bobs eyes bulged and he howled
from the burning. Then Emily drank the rest of the 12-ounce glass of whiskey at once,
looked at the rest of the bottle for a second and then put it to her lips and chugged it
empty. Emily looked at Bob and in a sultry way said, "Now lets really party."
Until that time Bob was still wearing his white briefs, but they were now stained with
yellow because hed peed himself several times from the pain of what Emily had done to
him with her unbelievably long and sharp nails. Emily shredded his briefs off with one
quick swipe of her 2-inch long fingernails. Then, she slipped her pinkie under his limp
dick and as she slid it up along his shaft he became instantly hard. "Know what I think is
really sexy? Guys with cock piercings!" Emily said. At that point, Bobs paralysis was
starting to wear off, and combined with a huge rush of adrenaline, Bob jumped up and off
the bed. He grabbed his old baseball bat he kept behind the couch/bed and landed a full
swing against the side of Emilys head, breaking the heavy bat in two. Emily just
blinked. Then Bob ran to the kitchen, and Emily landed next to him in one leap. Bob
yanked open a drawer and pulled out a huge butcher knife and began stabbing at Emilys
boobs and ribs. "Stop that! Im ticklish" Emily said laughing. Bob slashed the point of
the butcher knife across Emilys stomach, but it didnt even make a mark. "Think thats
sharp?" Emily asked. Then she pinned him against the kitchen cabinet with her foot
against his pelvis and curled her 1" pointed toenails into him. "Now, these are sharp,"
she said, slashing her foot down his thigh, making five more deep wounds. Bob
screamed and fell to the floor, clutching his bleeding leg. Emily impailed one of his calfs
with her 2-inch fingernails and though he was thrashing wildly she easily dragged him
back to the bed and flung him onto it. She said, "Ok, heres the thing. If I paralyze you
again, this time it will be permanent. So, nod if you promise to stay in bed." Bob nodded
in terror. Emily still had Bobs leg impailed with her nails, and she looked at his foot.
"Your toenails are filthy!" Emily said. "Why is it men are ok with their feet looking
gross? Wait, I bet youd love for me to give you a pedicure! " Then she held his foot
tight and started to scrape the dirt from under Bobs big toe nail with the tip of her 2-inch
pointer nail, carving deeper and deeper until she was all the way under his toenail to the
base. And as Bob thrashed ineffectively and screamed at the top of his lungs, Emily
repeated the torture on each of his other nine toes. "My my you have some ugly
callouses too!" Emily said, and she dug her 2-inch curved fingernails under his callouses
and clawed them off, leaving his feet raw and bleeding.
Emily put her pinkie under Bobs limp dick and stroked it and once again he instantly got
hard. Emily rolled out her tongue and licked the underside of his dick, and he could feel
her tongue-stud against his shaft. His balls tightened and he came immediately. Bob was
embarassed and he thought Emily would be furious, and feared what she might do to him.
But she just laughed and gently stroked his flaccid cock with her finger, and to his
amazement he got hard again right away. Emily went down on him, but after the second
stroke of her hot mouth he came again. Emily laughed again, and she turned her head
and spit his semen across the room to the farthest wall. Then Emily sat up and touched
his soft dick with her toes, being careful not to scratch him with her curved and pointed
1-inch long toenails, and again he became erect. She held Bobs cock between the toes of
both feet and jacked him off in three strokes. Emily continued getting Bob hard and
making him come quickly, over and over, using her hands, feet and mouth. She made
him come about every ten seconds, so over the next two hours he came a dozen or more
times. His dick nerves were raw and super-sensitive, and his balls ached like someone
had kicked them. With his dick hard once more, Emily looked up at Bob and asked him,
"So how about that cock-piercing now?" Bobs eyes bulged and he hoarsely croaked out,
"Nooooo, pleaaase, nooooo!" "Ok, I guess it can wait till later," Emily laughed.
"So then, mind if I fuck you?" Emily said. Bob wrinkled his eyebrows. What a weird
question, he thought to himself. Emily looked at Bobs erection and said, "Of course, I
cant have you coming in two seconds. And, no offense, but itll take more dick than that
to get me off." Emily put her mouth by the side of the base of his dick and he felt a
sharp pain and saw a little blood trickling under her lips and realized she had bitten him.
Emilys cheeks puffed out a little and he felt pressure against his cock and then a feeling
of tingling followed by a feeling like his dick was going to explode. When Emily finally
removed her mouth from its base, his cock was twice its normal size, rock-hard, and the
skin was stretched so tight it shined. It also throbbed and hurt. "Mmmmm, thats more
like it!" she said. Emily had to open her mouth wide in order to go down on Bobs now-
enormous cock, being sure to press her tongue stud against it as she did. His cock was
now also twice as sensitive as normal, and Bob started to pant like a dog. Emily scraped
her teeth lightly against his thick, hard shaft, and rubbed the extremely sensitive head
against the rough roof of her mouth. Bob was wheezing and digging his fingers into the
mattress, and he uncontrollably curled his toes, which was horribly painful on account of
what Emily had done to them. But even after twenty minutes of Emily giving Bob
incredible head, he hadnt come. In fact, he couldnt. Emily raised her head and said,
"Perfect! Youre ready for some real partying."
Emily tore off the rest of her ripped fishnets. "Ahhh, it feels so good to be totally naked,"
she said. Despite the pain from his many wounds, Bob lusted at her incredible toned
body. Emily straddled Bob, on her knees with her hands spread out on his chest. She
lowered her head and watched his eyes grow huge as she put her mouth near his
throbbing, swollen nipple that shed pierced earlier with one of her 2-inch fingernails.
Her eyes closed and she moaned as her lips closed around the entire nipple area and she
sucked it up into her mouth. Bob groaned in pain, and then he felt her teeth begin to dig
in and he began to scream louder and louder as her bite grew stronger and stronger.
When she let go and lifted her head, she licked a drop of blood from the corner of her
mouth and Bob saw the deep, bloody teeth marks all around his swollen, fingernail-
pierced nipple. Immediately Emilys head dropped to his chest and she bit his nipple area
hard again. This time Bob passed out.
Once again Emily doused Bob with icewater and he came-to. "I really insist you stay
awake when Im fucking you. Its only polite," she said. Bob started to say something
but Emily had her mouth on his in a split-second. It was the longest, most erotic kiss of
his life and Bob began to relax and enjoy her studded tongue as it snaked around inside
his mouth. He felt Emilys hot, wet pussy stretch around his enormous, engorged cock-
head as she lowered herself slowly onto him and began pistoning her pelvis up and down.
Emily sat up, riding Bobs swollen cock like a wild mustang. Bob had never felt that
kind of sexual pleasure before. But that ended quickly when Emily closed her long,
sharp fingernails on his shoulders and clawed them down his arms. Then she clawed his
chest, and clenched his abs, digging her 2-inch curved fingernails in all the way. Emily
howled like some kind of beast, and her orgasm lasted almost a full minute. Bob hoped
she would relax and give him a break from the torture, but that first orgasm only got
Emily hotter and made her lust for more. She began riding Bobs painfully-engorged
cock harder, rising up until she was almost free of his cock head, and then dropping
herself down with all her weight. Quickly she had a second orgasm, clawing Bobs sides
bloody with her long, natural fingernails as she screamed in pleasure.
With two crashing orgasms behind her, Emily was wild like an animal, and Bob could do
nothing but go along for the ride. She leaned forward, bending his rock-hard dick
forward with her, that it felt like it would snap. Bob tried to push her back by her
shoulders but he couldnt budge her. He felt her spread her legs wide and slip her feet
under him, and then she clawed his legs with her 1-inch long pointed toenails and at the
same time she bit deep into his left shoulder and impailed his chest with her 2-inch
fingernails. Emily sat upright, her pelvis gyrated and slammed against him and she dug
her nails deep into his asscheeks. Her head swayed back and she moaned loudly. She
took Bobs arms and stuck his fingers in her mouth and sucked on them. Bob enjoyed the
respite from the pain of her stabbing, clawing nails. Suddenly however, as she began to
orgasm again, Emily bit down on his hand, and then she bit his other hand. Bob felt and
heard the crunch of his bones giving way to her powerful jaws and sharp teeth, and he
screamed and began to pass out. Emily doused him with icewater. "Stay with me lover,
its almost over" she said. And the reached behind Bob and clutched her 2-inch curved
natural fingernails deep into his back and pulled him upright. She wrapped her legs
around him and Bob could hear and feel his ribs crack when she tightened her toned,
rippling muscles. He felt her 1-inch pointed toenails hook into his back, and she began to
thrust her pelvis against him harder and faster until she was pounding him with machine-
gun speed, like a jackhammer. She clawed his back deeply and then clutched his head
with both hands, jabbing her sharp fingernails into his skull. A moan began deep inside
her throat and grew louder and louder until it became a long, deafening primal scream.
Suddenly Emily clawed her razor-sharp curved 2-inch fingernails rapidly down Bobs
face and neck and pushed herself off of his cock, and she lay quietly across his legs,
smiling. "That was awesome," she said.
Bob had not come, and his dick was still rock-hard and engorged to twice its normal
size. He could see that it was red and raw, and it was so sensitive that just the air
circulating in the room caused him agony. Emily reached out her hand and gently ran
the side of a fingernail along Bobs shaft, and he cried out. "Dont worry lover, Im
going to take care of that for you in a minute." Emily ran her long, curved fingernails
through her wild mane of red hair and, spreading his legs wide apart, she sat near his
crotch with her knees up. "This is my favorite part. Youll see why I save it for last,"
she said. Bob felt her curved, pointed toenails lightly prick his ball sac, and then it was
like an explosion in his head when she dug them in and pulled down, crushing his balls
with her strong toes. Emily made sure she had the icewater nearby, but Bob was still
barely conscious. She flexed her toes a couple times and Bob cried in pain. Emily
scraped Bobs swollen cock lightly with her fingernails, and he gnashed his teeth and
moaned painfully. Emily dipped her hand in the pitcher of icewater and took an ice cube
and gently rubbed it around Bobs painful erection. It felt good, and he uttered a hoarse,
"Thank you." "Youre welcome, sweetie," Emily said, smiling. Then she wrapped one
hand around his enlarged shaft and squeezed it firmly. She took her other hand and
gently scraped his super-sensitive head with the tips of her sharp nails, and his pee-hole
opened wide. Then as Bob watched in horror, screaming, "Nooooo!" Emily inserted her
narrow 2-inch pinkienail all the way into his dick. She slowly pulled it in and out, and
because her nails were slightly curved, the sharp tip scratched the inside of his dick, and
her nail was covered with blood. Suddenly he felt a horrible knife-like pain on the
underside of his dick and he shrieked at the top of his lungs. "That was selfish of me!"
Emily said, and she twisted her hand so her palm was facing Bob, which made him
scream again. "Here, Ill let you watch this time," she said. Bob felt the knife-like pain
again, and then he saw her 2-inch fingernail burst through his shaft with a spurt of blood,
and then disappear back inside, only to be followed by another horrible stabbing pain,
and the sight of her nail bursting through in another place. "This is fun but its almost
morning and I really must be going," Emily said. She removed her nail from his pee-hole
and partially released the grip her toes with 1-inch toenails had on his balls. "I dont
usually bother helping a guy to come after Im done, mostly because not many survive
this long. But youve been such a brave little man and let me have so much fun and
pleasure with my nails that you deserve special treatment," she said. Then she began to
jack him off, using her 2-inch natural fingernails. Each stroke caused a bleeding scratch
to appear, and because his dick was so engorged, the skin split wide along each cut. It
was horribly painful for Bob to feel and watch but at the same time as he knew his dick
was being clawed to a pulp, the feeling of sexual pleasure got stronger and stronger until
he came, stronger than any time before in his life. His bloody, shredded member
deflated and lay limp against his bruised ball sac, and Bob was drained of all energy.
Emily lay near him and stroked his scratch-covered face gently. "Good-bye, lover, its
been fun," she said. And she clutched her 2-inch curved fingernails into his throat until
Bobs gasping and gurgling stopped. Emily gently closed Bobs eyelids, gathered her
things, and went next door into her duplex.
The next evening there were police cars with flashing lights in front of the house when
Emily came home from work. There was yellow tape strung everywhere, and a gurney
with a black body bag was being wheeled from the door to the open rear doors of a van
marked "Coroner". A good-looking young detective in a suit and tie, wearing rubber
gloves, stopped Emily as she neared her door and said, "I need to talk to you, miss.
Your neighbor didnt respond to his clients emails or phone calls today and one of them
called us. Seems hes been murdered." "Murdered! Oh my God! Someone shot him?"
Emily screamed. "No, it looks like some woman…some fiend clawed him to death. This
is the fifth murder in the past month with the same exact m.o." the detective said. "How
horrible!" Emily said. "Can you tell me where you were last night?" the detective asked
Emily, but before she could answer, someone from the crime investigation lab tapped the
detective on the shoulder and said, "Shes clean, Detective Stevens, we found long red
hairs, same as the others. "Couldve been a wig," Detective Stevens said, looking at
Emilys collar-length brown hair. The CSI man said, "Maybe. But the others were all
fresh from a living head. And the killer has to have nails like a lioness." "Couldve been
fakes," Detective Stevens said, looking at Emilys short, manicured fingernails. "No
way, man. No glued-on nail couldve done that much damage without popping off, and
we havent found any traces of acrylic or metal in the other victims," was the CSI mans
reply. "Ok, thanks," Detective Stevens said. "So Im not a suspect?" Emily asked him.
"No, miss," he said. Emily started to cry. "Im so frightened," she said, flinging her arms
around the detective. She put her face very close to his, with her nose to one side of his
nose and her lips just missing his by fractions of an inch. Detective Stevens could feel
her warm breath, and a slight wave of dizziness came over him and he got instantly hard.
"Im Emily," she said. "Jeff," Detective Stevens said. "Are you married, Jeff?" she
asked, her lips almost touching his. "Married to the job," he said. "I have some leftover
lasagna, Jeff. Maybe I could bring it over to your place, say, around 11:00?" Emily said.
Inhaling her exoticly-scented breath, Detective Stevens took a pen from his pocket and
wrote his home address on the back of his card. Emily took the card with her short-
nailed, manicured fingers and said, "See you at 11."
-
NAILS WITH CLASS
NAILS WITH CLASS
Being a college professor had some real perks for a guy into girls nails back when Alan
Hatings got his doctorate in Comparative Lit at twenty-six. That was back when long
nails were still very popular with young women, and they had to grow their own. In his
twenties and even thirties, Alans boyish good-looks and charisma, combined with his
mature confidence, was a powerful aphrodisiac to the young, long-nailed women who sat
in his classes. He was so much sexier to them than the beer-belching undergraduate boys
their own age. Those were also the days before a litigious climate forced college
administrations to institute heavy sanctions against student-faculty fraternization. In fact,
over the years Alan had his share of emotional, tearful, screaming run-ins with lovestruck
young women students who thought they would get a marriage proposal along with their
A. On more than a few occasions his affairs with long-nailed women concluded with
him being clawed angrily, which for him was much less of an unpleasant consequence
than it would be for most men. One of his co-ed conquests, a sweet Latina girl, claimed
that he was the father of her unborn baby, but fortunately for Alan she had no family and
no money to pay for a good lawyer, so she took the $500 he gave her for an abortion and
a bus ticket. Back then, he blithely sailed unscathed through situations that today would
surely ruin his career.
But things changed drastically for the worse by the time Alan got into his late forties. For
one thing, his teaching contract suddenly sprouted some very stringent legal clauses
against him fooling around with co-eds. For another thing, he was more than twice the
age of his students, and not only were there fewer who found him attractive, but of those
who did, many of them came from single-parent homes and had some father-
abandonment issues. Alan felt less and less like a suave ladykiller, and more and more
like a lecherous opportunist. In his obliviousness to the gradual onset of those conditions,
he had never married or even established a long-term relationship, and he still had needs
and urges, particularly when it came to long nails. Unfortunately, there was also one
other progression which put a crimp in his life, and in fact it was more devastating than
the others combined: long, natural nails had largely fallen out of fashion among college-
age girls. Most of his students kept their nails cut as short as they could. Often, there
was skin showing ahead of them, almost as if they were nail biters. To make matters
worse, they would cover the little stubs of nails with colored polish, calling attention to
their stubby ugliness. Of the few college girls he saw with long nails, most had on
fakes…thick, grotesquely-unnatural appendages that often splayed out wider toward the
tip like duck bills. Occasionally hed get a goth-girl in one of his classes who had long,
natural nails, of course polished black. But then there was also the short, jet-black hair
pulled into ugly little two-inch pigtails, and the pasty makeup and racoon-like
eyeshadow; the arms and bodies emblazoed with cruel-looking tattoos, and the facial
piercings that made Alan wince in pain just looking at them. And what most of those
girls found sexy were boys with the same tatoos, piercings…and long, black nails. But
rather than making Alan more circumspect and cautious, all of it conspired to make him
desperate, desperate for the increasingly rare opportunity to see and feel the long, natural
nails of a beautiful young woman, so that when such an infrequent opportunity presented
itself, he threw caution to the wind.
Professor Hastings stared out over the sea of fresh faces on the first day of class. His
usual first-day routine was to ask would everyone who would like to get an A in this
class please raise your left hand?"…and ask them to keep their hands up while he
pretended to count them. After a lifetime of nail-hunting, Alan could scan a hundred
hands and knew that if he could see long nails from the lecture podium, he was fairly
certain they were long enough to warrant his interest in the owner. And he specified the
left hand because most people are right-handed, and usually the nails on their left hands
were the longest. As usual, there was the same dearth of nails that had become the norm
over the years, and as usual, Alan was disheartened. Until his eyes scanned the very last
row, where there was only a single person sitting. He saw a single, bronze-tanned hand
with noticeably long nail tips, and his eyes followed down her arm to a very slightly-built
young woman with long auburn curls, and skin the color of caramel candy. Alan
couldnt be certain from that distance, but his inner voice told him those nails might be
natural. Thinking fast, Alan breezed through his lecture in half the usual time, and then
he said, "I like to know who my students are, so Im going to have one row at a time
come up and introduce themselves. Lets start with the front row."
Alan made a pretense of exchanging quick, cursory pleasantries with all of the students,
until finally he came to the girl from the back row. She was slim and had a very
attractive face. High cheekbones, steel-gray eyes, and a small mouth that burst into a
heart-stoppingly sexy smile. When she handed her class registration slip to him, he could
barely contain his lustful reaction when he saw the length of her left thumbnail, and that
it was absolutely natural, no acrylic extension, no gel, not even polish. He took a deep
breath to maintain his composure, and said, "Lets see…Martin, A.H. Nice to meet you,
Ms. Martin." "Please, professor, call me Allie," she said in a soft, sultry voice, her words
like hot, thick syrup pouring slowly from a pitcher, extending her right hand to him. He
felt himself flush and grow hard as he looked at her graceful, slender fingers, from which
grew the most exquisite set of long, clear fingernails hed seen in at least twenty years.
"Shy me had to sit in the last row," she said, shaking her head, "I guess we wont have
time to talk. You probably need to get to your next class." "Actually, I was going to have
lunch," he said, "So, if you dont mind keeping a creaky old professor company while he
gums his veggies…" Allie laughed, and her sexy smile burst across her face again. "I
dont hear you creaking," she laughed, "Veggies keep you young. Or at least Im hoping.
Im a vegetarian." "So am I!" professor Hastings said, "Have been since grad school. Ill
take you to my favorite vegetarian restaurant. My treat!"
The two of them walked to a little vegetarian bistro at the edge of campus and took a
table outside on the small patio. There were three girls at another table, evidently
celebrating the birthday of one of them, because they had muffins with candles and were
using their cell phones to take pictures of each other mugging in little pointy party hats.
"I remember when my birthdays were a cause for celebration," Hastings said with a hint
of lament, "Mine was last week…I tried to forget it but it didnt work." His young
companion looked at him with her gray eyes sparkling, "You mean your wife didnt bake
you a cake?" "No cake," he said, "And no wife." "Girlfriend?" she asked. "Nope," he
said. The waitress brought their veggie burgers just then, and they started to eat.
Professor Hastings couldnt take his eyes off of Allies nails. Clear and perfectly smooth,
all ten of them beautifully long. The strong, healthy nails of youth. She used her hands
with a fluid grace that showcased her long nails, giving him plenty of time to see them
from all angles. Allie laughed at his jokes, and when she did she had a habit of touching
him lightly on the back of his hand. Each time, when she drew her hand back, her nails
would scrape very lightly against his skin. At one point she licked all of her fingers, very
slowly, uttering a soft "Mmmmmmm, this is so delicious." Alan swallowed hard and
coughed slightly. "The food here is just amazing. Im so glad you brought me here,"
she said, flashing him her huge, sexy smile. They ordered carrot cake for dessert, and
while they were waiting she very slowly and gracefully used the backs of her pointer-
finger nails to clean underneath the others. Alan was rock-hard, and hoped he wouldnt
need to get up for any reason soon. The waitress brought their carrot cake and he picked
up his fork. "Wait," Allie said, and she leaned over and whispered something to the girls
at the next table. One of them handed her something…it was a candle, and Allie planted
it in the frosting on professor Hastings carrot cake. She borrowed a lighter and reached
to light the candle. Alan blushed and started to wave her away, but she took his hand in
her other hand while she continued to light the candle, and then she sweetly sang Happy
Birthday to him. She clasped his hand with both of hers, and he could feel the sharpness
of her long, beautiful natural fingernails press gently into his skin. "Make a wish," she
said in that soft, syrupy voice of hers. Alan looked deep into her steel-gray eyes, and
then paused a moment before blowing out the candle. The girls at the next table laughed
and applauded, and as they got up to leave, Allie turned his face to her and gave him a
quick a kiss on the lips and one of the girls said, "Aww, how sweet!" as she took their
picture with her cellphone. "That really was sweet of you," he said to her. "I dont
usually kiss on the first date," she grinned shyly, "But I didnt have time to get you
anything, so the kiss was your present." "I meant, all of it was sweet of you…the candle,
singing Happy Birthday," he said, "It was spontaneous and…probably the nicest thing
anyones ever done for me." "And the present?" she asked sincerely. Alan blushed,
"That was very nice." "Because if you didnt like it, you can always give it back to me,"
she said with a wink, "or even if you did like it." Professor Hastings started, "Allie,
theres something very special about you, and Id like to get to know you better. Have
dinner with me tonight!" She smiled her incredible smile and said, "I cant."
"Oh…sure…I understand," he said, disappointed and a little annoyed that he wasnt
going to close the deal as quickly as hed hoped.
At their next class, professor Hastings looked out over the sea of students and didnt spot
Allie in the back row. He hadnt been able to stop thinking about her and her
unbelievably sexy nails, and for a moment he felt deep dispair, fearing perhaps she had
been put off by his invitation to dinner, and had dropped his class. He shuffled through
his lecture notes, and when he lifted his eyes, there she was, sitting in the first row. She
gave him a little finger-wave with her pinkie. He didnt acknowledge her, but their eyes
made contact, and she flashed him her sexy smile. All through the class, he pretended to
be looking out at the entire group, but in reality he was looking at her. She began taking
notes on her laptop, and from her seat down front, Alan could both hear and see her long
nails clicking rapidly on the keyboard, and although it was his custom to pace while he
lectured, he had to deliver the remainder of it standing behind the podium because he had
an enormous tent in his pants. In fact he stood there while several students asked him
questions, and finally until all the students had shuffled out. All except Allie, who
remained. She folded her laptop and said, "Professor Hastings? Are you coming? I
thought maybe we could have lunch together again." "Uh…sure, ok, yes that would
be…Id like that," he stammered, stalling for time as he waited for his erection to
subside. "Ok, Ill wait for you then," Allie said, and she drummed her nails on the cover
of her laptop, and he felt himself start to get hard all over again. "Arent you feeling
well?" she asked, walking toward the podium. "N-n-no!" he cried, "I mean yes, Im
fine!" She started saying, "If you dont feel like lunch today we can…" "No, no. Im
fine. I really want to have lunch, Im starving in fact!" he said urgently.
They ate at an asian cafe, and professor Hastings could hardly eat a bite. He stared at
Allies hands, mesmerized by her slender fingers and long, long natural nails as she
gracefully worked her chopsticks. "Professor Hastings?" she said. "Alan," he said.
"Alan," she smiled shyly, "Youre not eating." "Huh? Oh…hmmm…I must be over-
hungry…seem to have lost my appetite," he said, fishing for a plausible excuse. "Is it
something about my…hands?" she asked, "Youve been staring at them all through
lunch. In fact, youve stared at them before." Alan felt himself flush and get very warm,
and he stammered for words but nothing coherent came out. "Its my nails, isnt it?" she
asked, "Im used to having guys stare at my long fingernails." Alan stammered some
more, taking his mouth full of food so he wouldnt need to speak. She continued on,
"Some guys stare because they cant stand them, and others stare because my long nails
turn them on. Which one are you?" Alan chewed furiously, little droplets of perspiration
beading up on his forehead. Allie smiled her burst-of-sunshine smile, "Im betting my
nails turn you on. Im right, arent I?" Professor Hastings sighed and smiled sheepishly.
Allie slid her chair around closer to him, and she leaned close to his ear. "Would you like
to do more than just stare at them?" she whispered. He started breathing hard. "Would
you like me to scratch you?" she whispered, just barely ruffling the hair on his arm with
the tips of her exquisitely beautiful long fingernails, "I like to scratch. Scratching turns
me on. Does getting scratched turn you on, Alan?" He was sweating profusely, and
panting, and he had a raging hard-on under the table. Alan said quietly, but filled with
lust, "Lets go somewhere we can be alone." "Take me dancing Friday," she said
suddenly. Alan gasped, "W-we…I mean, I…I mean, having lunch together in public is
ok. But going out on a date, at night…dancing…if anyone from the college saw us…."
"I guess you dont want them as much as I thought you did," she said, scraping her long
nails seductively up and down one of her chopsticks. Alan watched as a tiny wood
shaving curled under her long thumbnail, and he swallowed hard. Then he quickly told
Allie he would pick her up at eight on Friday.
The club was dark and crowded, and professor Hastings looked around nervously and
prayed that if anybody was there who knew him, that he wouldnt be recognized. Allie
pulled him straight out onto the dance floor, where he felt very much out of place among
a crowd that he was old enough to have fathered. The music was harsh and discordant to
his ears, and much too loud for his pleasure. He could feel the pulsating base beat against
his chest, and that plus the smoke made it hard for him to breathe. But in a second he
forgot all of his trepidation and discomfort, as Allie began to dance for him. She moved
like a cat, as if her joints had no limits. Her tiny dress clung tightly to her hips as they
swayed and gyrated in a sexy ellipse. Her caramel-candy skin glistened with faint
moisture, and her soft, auburn curls tossed to and fro as she moved her shoulders. Allies
legs were long and toned and bare, and she stood eye-to-eye with Alan in her sexy heels.
Alan couldnt help but notice the unusual combination of her honey-golden skin and
steel-gray eyes as she kept them riveted to his in an icy-hot stare of pure sexual desire.
She flashed her sunshine smile, and Alan was taken by wonderment, that someone could
at once have a smile so warm and eyes so cold. His trance was interrupted when Allie
put her hands on his collar while she continued to dance. As she moved, he felt her nails
brush against his neck. She began to scratch him lightly, then slightly harder, as she
danced closer to him. She started stroking her thumbnails under his chin. Alan slipped
his hands around her gyrating waist, and she danced herself around so her back was to
him, scratching her nails on the backs of his hands and rubbing her tight little ass against
the hard bulge in his pants. The music stopped, and in the split-second of respite from
the oppressive noise, professor Hastings said, "I think Im going to get myself a drink.
Would you like something?" The music started up again and Allie shouted, "Im good."
And she began to gyrate again.
Alan made his way to the bar and ordered a scotch-rocks. He put the cold glass to his
forehead for a moment, and then took a drink. "Professor Hastings??" a female voice
said. Alan nearly choked on his drink. It was one of his colleagues, Carole Wilkes. In
her mid-forties, she had started teaching the same time he did, and being that she never
had nails, he established a close platonic friendship with her from the beginning. Alan
and Carol confided in each other, and he always appreciated that she was never
judgmental toward him for his escapades with co-eds, nor resentful of the fact that he was
the one being promoted to department chair when the current chairman retired at the end
of the year, even though she had published more than Alan. "Uh…hi," he said, looking
around furtively. "I never expected to see you here!"she said, pulling her husband by the
arm. "We decided to risk total humiliation, and go dancing at a club," Carole said, "But
gosh, in here I feel kind of like Im chaperoning the senior prom," Carole joked. "Are
you here with someone?" she asked. "No…uh….not…," Alan stammered. Just then
Allie came up. "What happened to you? I thought maybe someone stole you," she
laughed. Alan felt himself flush and start to sweat. "Uhh….Ms. Martin, this is professor
Wilkes and her husband Steve," he said, trying to maintain his composure and think fast,
"Carole, Steve, this is Ms. Allie Martin, shes a student in one of my classes. We
happened to bump into each other on the dance floor and Ms. Martin was trying to teach
an old man some modern dancing." "Pleased to meet you! Call me Allie," she said to
the couple, then she said to Carole, "I need to freshen up…care to come along?" "Sure,"
Carole said, and the two of them snaked through the crowd toward the restrooms. Steve
Wilkes turned to professor Hastings and chuckled, "Cant blame you, man. Id probably
risk my job…not to mention a broken back and a heart attack...for a piece of ass like that,
too." Of course, Steve wouldnt have taken those risks just to be close to a set of long
fingernails and the possibility of a scratch.
Professor Hastings drove Allie back to her apartment. In the car, she took her shoes off
and rubbed her feet. Alan inhaled the aroma of leather and perspiration, and heard her
soft moan as she said, "All that dancing was murder on my feet. I cant wait to get home
and put them up." And she placed her bare feet against the dash. Alan glanced over
quickly, and he could see the twinkling of the passing streetlights reflect off her shiny
toenails. She flexed her toes back, and in his split-second glance he saw a french
pedicure, and light diffusing through the tips of her toenails. "Would you mind coming
up to my apartment and rubbing my feet?" she said softly, stroking a fingernail down the
back of his hand, "Who knows? I might even thank you…with my nails." Alan could
feel the tent in his pants almost touching the steering wheel as he turned into her
apartment parking lot. Allie took professor Hastings hand, and she walked barefoot next
to him, dangling her shoes back over her other shoulder by one finger hooked through the
thin straps.
The switch just inside the door to Allies studio apartment controlled a single lamp on a
small endtable. She quickly turned the dimmer until there was only a faint glow. There
was a convertible sofabed in the center of one wall, and a little pullman kitchen directly
across the room. Everything was very neat and tidy, and decorated in a decidedly
feminine way, but mature, not girlish. There were plants everywhere, and the air was
scented with patchouli, not dank and musty the way many student apartments in older
buildings near campus tended to be. Alan had certainly been in his share of co-eds
apartments, and Allies was very refreshing. She set her shoes on the floor by the front
door and walked over to an armoire, that appeared to be an antique, and she took
something out and tucked it under her arm. "Please, make yourself comfortable," she
said, slipping into the bathroom and closing the door behind her. He heard water
running, and when it stopped, the door opened and Allie walked out wearing a burgundy
silk kimono. "I wanted to wash my feet after sweating in my shoes and then walking
barefoot across the parking lot," she said. She paused by her little coffee table and
opened a small mirrored box. She took out two sticks of incense, lit them, and placed
them in a little jade-green holder. Alan sniffed the air and closed his eyes. "Cinnamon
and nutmeg," she said softly, "Its my favorite combination." "It reminds me of
something," he said. "Eggnog?" she asked. "Yes! Thats it!" he cried, "I love eggnog."
"Me too," she said.
Allie sat down next to her professor and tucked her caramel-colored legs under her. She
pulled her long, auburn curls back and then shook them loose, and turned her steel-gray
eyes toward his. "You have a very…exotic combination of features," he said, "I dont
mean to pry, but I was wondering…" "Im half angel and half devil," she said in her
syrupy purr, icing him with her eyes and torching him with her smile. Alan loved her
sexy attitude, and the mystery of her ethnicity just added to his fascination. She leaned
against the arm of the sofabed and put her feet in Alans lap. "Ill take that foot-rub
now," she said, brushing his hand with her toes. Alan took her feet in his hands and
began to massage them. His eyes had adjusted to the dimly-lit room, and he looked
carefully at her feet. They were, like the rest of her, the picture of exquisite perfection.
Just the right size for her height, narrow and feminine, with high arches. Her fleshy soles
were whisper-soft, and just slightly lighter-colored than the tops. She had long, straight
toes, and her toenails likewise were straight, and beautifully shaped. They were clear-
polished, and what hed mistaken for a french pedicure in the car, was simply natural nail
growth. His thoughts were interrupted by Allies soft moan of pleasure. "Am I doing it
well?" he asked. "Yes, it feels wonderful," she said, "You have strong hands. I think
thats really sexy in a guy." "Thank you," he said, and he brought her foot to his face
and kissed the top of her toes. "Is that what I think it is?" he started. "Uh huh, its
chocolate," she giggled. "Chocolate-scented soap…I never heard of it before," he said.
"Its not soap. I soaked my feet in chocolate liqueur…for you," she smiled, "Go ahead,
taste them." Alan was suddenly overcome by the scent and sight of her feet, and he
began to devour them ravenously, oblivious to the spectacle his lust presented to her. He
started kissing and licking her ankles, placing her bare feet to either side of his face, and
he prepared to continue up between her legs, so overcome was he with lust. But suddenly
she clamped his face between her soles. Although he grabbed her ankles and tried with
all his strength to pry them apart, her legs were incredibly strong and he couldnt budge
her. "Whoa! Calm down!" she laughed. Alan sighed and regained control of himself,
and as he did, he felt her relax her feet. "Thats better," she said, gently releasing his face
and lowering her legs. As she did, she curled her toes and gently scratched her toenails
down his cheeks and neck. Alan grabbed for her feet, he so wanted to suck and lick them
some more, but quickly she had them tucked under herself. "I want you so much," he
panted. "Gee, I couldnt tell," she giggled, flashing her blazing smile.
"Im hungry," Allie said, and she got up and went to her little refrigerator and took out a
bowl of very large strawberries and a plastic tub of Cool Whip, and brought them back to
the couch. She put the Cool Whip on the coffee table and sat back against the arm of the
sofabed with the bowl of strawberries in her lap. Then she reached into the bowl and
extracted a strawberry by the thicker end, slowly sinking her long fingernails deep into it
as Alan watched. She reached over to the Cool Whip and dipped the narrow end of the
strawberry into it and brought it to her face as she licked her lips and opened her mouth
just wide enough for the strawberry. She closed her lips around the fruit and bit into it
slowly, keeping her steel-gray eyes fixed on Alan. He could hear the juiciness of the
strawberry as she withdrew the front half from her lips, and rolled what shed bitten off
around and around in her mouth before finally swallowing it. Allie leaned forward with
the remainder of the strawberry still impailed by her long fingernails, and brought it
toward Alans mouth. As he opened his mouth to receive it, she brought her lips close to
his. He was wheezing with desire, and came forward anticipating her kiss, but she just
placed the rest of the strawberry into her own mouth and sat back. Alan gasped and
whimpered. Allie licked her long fingernails one by one. She sank her long fingernails
into another strawberry, dipped it in Cool Whip, and repeated what shed done with the
first one. This time she popped the remaining half into her mouth without ever leaning
toward Alan, and then with her fingers poised before her open mouth, she looked at him
and said, "I bet youd like to lick my nails, wouldnt you?" "You know I would," he
panted. "Come to me," she whispered, and Alan obeyed, opening his mouth. But Allie
raised her knee just as he came near, and she slowly licked her own nails clean. Alan
shook with lust and looked at her pleadingly. She sighed, and stretched out her leg and
dipped her toes into the Cool Whip and presented her foot to him. Alan licked and
sucked the sweet topping from her toes. Allie giggled, "My toes are all wet and sticky
now." And then she looked deep into Alans eyes and, as she sank her long fingernails
into another strawberry, she whispered, "Thats not the only part of me thats all wet and
sticky." And as Alan watched with his mouth agape, Allie parted her silk kimono and
spread her legs and slowly worked the strawberry around her pussy lips, breathing
heavily and moaning softly. Alan watched her insert the front half of the large strawberry
into her pussy and pull it out slowly, again and again, her moans becoming little cries.
Finally she inhaled sharply and held her breath, and he saw her steel-gray eyes roll back
in their sockets. In a moment she looked at him and leaned forward and said breathlessly,
"Are you hungry, Alan?" and brought the strawberry to his lips. This time he grabbed
her wrist and hungrily devoured the strawberry, and then he frantically licked and sucked
her long fingernails before finally releasing her. "How do I taste?" she said softly, "Like
an angel…or like the devil?" Alans eyes were wild with lust. "Are you still hungry,
Alan?" she asked. "Yes! Yes!" he cried, "I want you! Oh God, I want you so much."
Allie put the bowl of strawberries on the coffee table, scooped up some Cool Whip on her
pointer finger, and let Alan suck it clean. She put her face in his neck and began making
a trail of soft little kisses up to his ear, while she gently scratched her long fingernails
against the back of his neck, and across his cheeks against the grain of his beard stubble.
The sound filled him with burning lust. To him there was nothing comparable to the
sound of long, sharp, natural fingernails scratching. Fake nails may have felt the same, or
nearly so, but they didnt make the same piquant, sexually-arousing sound. Allie
continued leaving a trail of soft kisses along his jawline, up his chin, and slowly, slowly
all around the edge of first his lower lip, and then his upper lip. She gently pressed her
nails with both hands into his forehead and gently scratched them down his face, gliding
them ever so softly over his closed eyelids, and down his cheeks. She stroked her long
thumbnails under his chin and down over his adams apple, continuing to leave feather-
soft kisses around and around his mouth, her warm breath lush with the scent of
strawberries and vanilla. Alan was harder than he could ever remember being. Never
had he been with any woman who seemed to know from the very first time, intuitively,
his deepest fantasies, as if shed been listening-in on his dreams.
Allie hovered her lips over his, but backing off slightly each time as he tried to kiss her.
"Stop teasing me," he begged in a whisper. "No," she whispered back. Alan tried again
to kiss her, but she put her nails against his lips and let him lick them. "Why dont you
want me to kiss you?" he moaned softly. "I do," she said quietly. Alan put his mouth
against hers, but she gently bit his upper lip and scratched her nails through his hair and
scalp and began making a trail of little kisses toward the side of his face. "I thought you
said you wanted me to kiss you?" he cried softly. "I did," she whispered, "But now I
want to do this." And she rubbed her lower lip against his earlobe, and gently bit it. Her
nose was right in his ear and he could hear her breathing hard. Suddenly she swept her
mouth back to his and smothered him with her hot, passion-filled kiss, straddling him on
her knees. Alan grabbed her ass and held her tight to him, and she sucked his tongue into
her mouth and kept sucking it for all she was worth. Alan hurriedly undid his belt and
unzipped his pants, while Allie frantically unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged off her
kimono. She reached down and dug into his underpants, finding and freeing his hard
dick. Alan feltand heardher nails scrape his shaft from base to tip, again and again.
"Are they everything you hoped for, Alan?" she whispered into his ear, "Are my nails
perfect?" "Yes…oh, God yes!" he gasped. "Do you want to fuck me now, Alan," she
asked sweetly, gnawing playfully on his ear. "I want to, so much," he sighed. "Or do
you want me to scratch you?" she asked. "Yes! Yes! I want both!" he cried. "You have
to choose one," Allie said softly. Alan smiled and chuckled, and Allie chuckled and
flashed her incredible smile. Still smiling, she said, "Im serious. Ill fuck you like
youve never been fucked before, but I wont touch you with my nails. Or, Ill scratch
you in ways you never even dreamed, Ill drive you raving mad with pleasure, but I wont
let you cum. Alan? Which do you want more?" Alan looked at her with profound
despair. Not because he couldnt choose, but because he knew that for him, there was no
choice. He needed her long nails like he needed oxygen, no matter the cost or
consequences. Alan silently took her hand and caressed her nails.
Allie slipped behind him and wrapped her long, honey-colored legs around his waist.
She burrowed her feet into his pants legs, and she gently clawed his thighs with her
toenails. She reached under his arms in front of him and she scratched his chest while he
watched. Golden tan fingers with long, translucent-white nails. They were the most
perfect, long, exquisitely feminine nails and hands Alan had ever seen. Slowly and
sensuously they combed through his chest hair, grasping and scraping and scratching his
skin, kneading his muscles, stroking his sensitive, erect nipples. Allie kissed his
shoulder, then made a trail of kissing and sucking to his neck, then up to his ear. "Are
my nails turning you on?" she asked breathily, knowing Alan couldnt speak the answer.
Allie pulled her legs in and began to stroke his dick slowly between the warm soles of her
feet. They were silky soft, and slipped easily along the smoothness of his rock-hard
shaft, and the sensation was maddeningly pleasurable. Allie bent him forward and placed
her hands against his back. She dug her nails in deep, and dragged them down slowly
and fairly hard. Alan gasped from the unexpected pain. "Do you like it like that, Alan?
Do you like me to scratch you like that?" she said quietly. "Yesssssss," he moaned. "Do
you want me to do it harder, Alan?" she asked. "Ok..I mean, a l-little…maybe," he
gasped. "Are you sure, Alan? Do you know how sharp my nails are? They could really
do some damage," she said, with equal parts concern and lust. "Well…uh," Alan started,
but she clawed his back harder with both hands. "Ohhhhhhh!" he cried, clenching his
teeth. "Hasnt anyone ever scratched you that hard before, Alan?" she asked. "N-no…n-
never," he panted. "You dreamed about it, though," she said. "Y-yes," he sighed. "Is it
better than the dream?" she said, "I want to know." "Yes," Alan said quietly. She
clawed her nails into his back hard again, and he cried out even louder. Allie brought her
hands around in front of his face. "Look, Alan," she said softly, and he saw that the
edges of her beautiful long fingernails were tinged with red, "Youre bleeding." Allie
wiped her nails through his chest hair, and held him tight to her. He felt her hot body
against his back, and the raw scratches stung from her salty perspiration. Allie was still
slowly stroking his dick between her soles, and Alan grasped her feet and pressed them
harder against his raging hardon, and he started moving them faster. Allie grasped his
hands, pressing her nails into them quite firmly. "If you cum, were done here," she said,
"But if thats what you want…" Alan took a deep breath and let go of her feet.
Alan felt her hot tongue lapping the back of his neck, and he turned his head and reached
to take her face in his hands. "Is it ok to kiss you?" he asked timidly. "Of course!" she
said in her syrupy voice, "I want you to kiss me." And she gave him a long, lingering,
deep kiss; paused for a moment, and then another. She slithered around to the front of
him and straddled his hips, kissing him again, harder and deeper, while scratching her
long nails down both sides of his face over and over, at first very lightly with her fingers
almost flat, and then gradually harder, curving her fingers more and more until she was
scratching him with the tips of her nails. Alan became more filled with animal lust with
every kiss and scratch, and he was grunting and groaning and panting hard. "Are you
sure you made the right decision, Alan? I mean, my nails instead of fucking?" she asked.
Alans balls ached, and his erection was so hard it was almost painful, and he cried
silently to himself, despairing the curse that controlled him, the overpowering need for a
womans long nails. "Ive been told Im a great fuck," she sighed into Alans ear, in-
between sucking the skin on his neck into her mouth and biting it gently. Suddenly she
raised herself up slightly on her knees, and in an instant he felt his cock being swallowed
deep into her wet, hot, tight pussy. He drew a deep breath and cried out in pleasure, and
she rode his cock backand then, outof her. "A really great fuck," she repeated,
smiling wickedly. After watching the tortured expression on Alans face for several
excruciating moments, she put her nails against his lips and said, "Here. Will these
help?" Alan grasped her hand and, trembling and whimpering, began hungrily devouring
her fingers and licking his tongue over and under her long nails.
Allie gently pushed professor Hastings back on his back, and she leaned down and kissed
him tenderly, spreading her fingers out over his shoulders and pressing her nails into his
skin, scraping her long thumbnails along his collarbone. She put her lips to his ear and
whispered softly, "Eat me." And she lowered her wet pussy over his mouth, his tongue
already waving in the air in anticipation. As she ground herself against his face, Allie
grasped his head with both hands, pressing her nails into the back of his head. As she
moaned louder and louder, Alan felt her thumbnails scrape his forehead, and when she
climaxed she dug them in to his temples and shuddered. Alan grasped her waist and
gently tried to move her, but she leaned down and said, "I want more." This time she
came much faster, and then dismounted from his face. She turned around and sat on top
of him with her ass facing him, and looked back over her shoulder at him and smiled her
irresistible smile. She lowered her head, and at the same time raised her ankles and held
Alans face between the soles of her chocolate-scented feet. Alan was dumbfounded at
her unbelievable flexibility, until he glanced across the room and saw the Yoga mat at the
far end of the room. Her heels were planted firmly under his chin, and her toenails dug in
behind his ears, keeping his head motionless and directing his sight at her perfect ass.
Her curls brushed his thighs, further antagonizing his already overstimulated nerve
endings. Alan couldnt see what she was doing, but he felt her sharp nails gently scratch
his legs and thighs, and then go under his thighs and dig in. He felt her warm breath on
his erection, then she slowly took the length of his rock-hard cock into her mouth. Allie
was amazing. Between her lips, cheeks, and tongue, she didnt leave even the smallest
part of his dick without the sensation of contact, as she rose up and down on his shaft,
sucking hard. She lingered over his cockhead, scraping the super-sensitive rim ever-so-
lightly with her teeth. Alan cried out and moaned loudly, caressing her sexy legs with his
hands. Never had he gotten a blowjob like Allie was doing it, in fact he hadnt even
imagined anything like it in his most erotic fantasy. The pleasurable sensations were
overwhelming, he could feel his heart pounding. Suddenly the air was cooling his dick,
and he heard Allie say, "Remember, if you cum, no more of my nails tonight." Just as
suddenly, her hot mouth covered his dick again, but this time Alans pleasure was mixed
with the desperate urgency to keep himself from cumming.
After a long, long time, Allie sat up and turned around and lay flat on top of Alan. He
felt a serene sense of accomplishment having staved off cumming, and craved the touch
of Allies long nails as a reward. She rested her head sideways on his chest, and idly
played with his chest hair, pulling it up and letting it slip back through her fingers.
"Youre proud of yourself…that you lasted…arent you!" she giggled. Alan gave her a
macho grin. "Just so you know," she said blandly, "The only reason you didnt cum is
because I didnt make you." She saw a slight look of disbelief on his face, the faint
vestige of male ego still flicker in his eyes, and she said, "Would you like me to show
you? Id be happy to make you cum…that is, if youre ready to go home. Itll only take
ten seconds, tops." He gave her a pleading look of submission and shook his head no.
Allie smiled her breathtaking smile. "Good decision," she whispered, licking her tongue
around inside his ear and scratching her nails down his neck. She slipped her hands
behind his back and scraped him with her nails. Alan winced and gasped. "Sore?" she
asked. Unlike in his fantasies, real-life scratches kept on hurting. "Ill try and
remember," she promised.
Allie stroked his arm with the tips of her beautiful long fingernails. She reached for his
dick with her other hand and scraped it with her nails, making it jump. Then she held his
nutsack with one hand, and gently scratched her other pinkie nail around and around the
rim of his cockhead. She indented her nails around his rock-hard shaft, and gently
strummed the side edge of her long thumbnail across his peehole a number of times,
while her other hand cradled and rolled his balls gently. Allie lifted his nutsack with one
hand, and scraped her other nails down his perineum, and then Alan felt one sharp nail
very gently scrape his anus in slow circles. Alan was heaving and panting. Allie reached
for the little mirrored box on the coffee table, and took out a condom. She tore the
wrapper open with her teeth. "Oh, thank God!" Alan cried, but Allie just laughed. "Its
not what you think," she said, unrolling the condom, "Im not letting you fuck me." She
slipped the condom over her middle finger, and she smiled at Alan, who had a look of
trepidation on his face. "Would you rather I didnt use anything?" she asked, taking her
finger out of the condom and sliding the edge of her long fingernail sideways along his
cock shaft to show him how sharp it was. Alan winced, and Allie snickered and put her
finger back inside the condom. Then she inserted it slowly into his asshole and pressed
firmly against his prostate while she dug the rest of her fingernails into his asscheeks, and
her thumbnail into his perineum. With her other hand she slowly scraped all her nails up
and down his raging hardon. Alans breathing grew shallow and ragged, and he was
whimpering and moaning. Allie watched the precum leak out of his peehole as his
cockhead swelled and his ballsack drew itself up tight. Then, she stopped. "I bet
nobodys ever done that to you before, have they?" she asked, leaning back stretching
herself like a cat. Allie yawned and said, "Its been really wonderful, Alan, but Im
getting kind of tired. You wouldnt mind if we called it a night, would you?"
Alans faced turned red with rage, and the veins stood out on his forehead. He began
breathing hard through flared nostrils, and he balled his fists. "Alan, youre scaring me!"
Allie said. "I love games as much as the next guy," he growled through clenched teeth,
"But enough is enough. Your little cock-tease is finished. Its my turn to drive." Alan
took his pants and underwear all the way off and started for Allie. "Alan. No!" she said
firmly, but he grabbed her around the waist and swung her down onto the couch and got
on top of her. Suddenly she got her arms between them and she scratched both sides of
his face with her long, sharp fingernails. Hard. "Shit!" he cried, clasping his face with
his hands. When he looked, his palms were bloody. Allie tried to scratch him again, but
he grabbed her hands and forced them underneath her, behind her back. "Whats the
matter Alan?" she said softly, "I thought you liked me to scratch you." Alan looked into
her steel-gray eyes, and he lowered his head and kissed her hard. At first she squirmed
and whimpered, but after a moment or two she relaxed and sighed and he felt her tongue
swirling inside his mouth, and she spread her legs and wrapped them around his back.
He plunged his rock-hard cock into her and began pounding. Allie whispered in his ear,
"God, youre so huge. Do it slower, Alan. Tease me like I teased you." Alan slowed his
pace, and hesitantly released his grip on her arms. Allie put her hands up to his face, and
Alan pulled his head back fearfully, but she merely caressed his stinging, throbbing
cheeks with her butter-soft fingers, and she gave him a long, deep kiss. Alan grunted and
fucked her harder, and he felt her pussy tighten around his shaft. She gently caressed his
back with her fingers. Alan panted, "Use your nails." "No," she whispered. "Please! I
need you to use your nails!" he groaned. "Or else what, Alan?" she asked, "Youre
already fucking me." He was glad to finally fuck her, but now he was desperate to feel
her nails on him. Once again, she was calling the shots, she had him right back where he
started. "Ok Alan, Ill make a deal with you," she said. "Anything," he panted, thrusting
into her slowly, "Anything at all, as long as you use your nails." "Remember I said I can
make you come in ten seconds, tops? Well, if you can last more than ten seconds, Ill
scratch you all over with my long nails," she said. "Its a deal!" he cried, and he slowed
his pace. "Ok," she said, "Starting…..now." And she counted out loud, "One
hippopotamus, two hippopotamus, three hippopotamus..." Alan felt her pussy tighten
around his cock like a cobra, and he felt her slide her feet down over his ass and thighs,
and she pressed her big toes firmly into the backs of his knees. A strange tingling started
in his groin. "Erogenous pressure points," she whispered, "Fascinating subject. Four
hippopotamus, five hippopotamus…" Allie put her hands behind her head and smiled her
famous smile. Alan felt her pelvis begin to thrust just a little, but extremely fast, as if she
had a motor inside her, and he felt himself being rapidly swept toward a climax. "Yoga.
Its amazing what it does for you," she said, "Six hippopotamus, seven hippopotamus…"
Alan began to panic, and he tried to think distracting thoughts. The vibrating got stronger
and he felt her press her toes harder into the backs of his knees and massage them in
circles. Alans balls tightened up and he could feel himself on the brink of cumming.
"Eight hippopotamus, nine hippopotamus," Allie giggled. Alan felt on the verge of
victory, like the front-runner in a marathon as he touches that ribbon stretched across the
finish line. Then she whispered in his ear, "Nails." "Nooooooooo!!" he cried, as his
orgasm hit, and he pumped his load into her. "Ten hippopotamus," she laughed.
Alan lay across her, heaving and panting and sobbing from the release that had been
boiling up inside him for hours. Allie stroked his hair gently. "Alan?" she said, "Its
really time you were going." Alan sat up slowly, drinking in her beauty. She had the
most unbelievable body, and her face and hair and eyes…he definitely did not want to
leave. "Allie…" he started, reaching for her. "Im not a cuddler, Alan. Sorry," she said,
"I like to sleep alone." Reluctantly, he got up and put his pants on. He was still hot and
sweating, and he left his shirt unbuttoned. "Will I see you again…I mean, outside of
class?" he asked her hopefully, as they stood in the doorway. "I absolutely guarantee it,"
Allie said, flashing that smile. Alan brushed his hand over her thick, auburn curls, and
held her shoulders. "May I kiss you goodnight?" he asked, with a suave raise of his
eyebrows. "Of course," she said softly, and their lips met in a deep, hot, lingering,
magical kiss that made Alan go weak in the knees. And as they kissed, Allie slipped her
arms under his open shirt and scratched her amazingly sexy long fingernails deep and
hard, from his shoulder blades down and under his arms and down his ribs to his waist.
Alan grimmaced from the sudden pain, but the look on his face was pure, rabid lust.
"Sweet dreams," Allie said, flashing her amazing smile, as she closed the door between
them.
By the time Alan got home, it was almost four in the morning, and he was still sexually
aroused from Allies nails. He jerked himself off and went to sleep, but was awakened
by the phone at around eight-thirty. It was professor Westcott, the chairman of his
department, sounding terse and upset, and demanding that Alan come in to his office
immediately. Alan never knew Westcott to work on a weekend, and he wouldnt say
what the reason was for his insistence. Alan showered and dressed and drove to campus.
When he walked into professor Westcotts office, his heart started to pound, and he began
to sweat profusely. In addition to Westcott, seated around the room were Allie, professor
Wilkes, the girl who gave them the birthday candle at the restaurant, and a thirty-ish man
in a suit, who Alan had never seen before. They all looked at him with contempt, staring
at his face, which was streaked with the scratches from Allies long, sharp nails. "Sit
down, professor Hastings!" Westcott snapped, "There have been some serious charges
brought against you." Alan turned red and his mouth went dry. Westcott continued, "As
you are well aware, professor Hastings, it is strictly forbidden for faculty to consort with
students." Alan started to say something but Westcott stopped him, "Youll get your
chance later…though it wont do you any good." He gestured at Allie, and said, "This
young woman charges that you, using your influence and power over her grade, coerced
her into having an affair. I have sworn affadavits from this other young lady that she saw
the two of you kissing at a public restaurant. I have the picture she took of you which
proves it. Furthermore, I have a sworn statement from professor Wilkes as well as her
husband, that they saw you and Ms. Martin together at a dance club, and that they
watched you leave together in your car." Alan looked at his colleague with despair.
"Carole!?" he croaked softly, disbelieving her betrayal. "Im sorry, Alan," she said, "Ive
kept all your dirty secrets all these years, but I just cant do it any more." Professor
Westcott turned to Alan. "Professor Hastings, to save the college and you a lot of useless
and wasted expense and embarassment, rather than fire you, I will accept your immediate
resignation." "Y-yes, sir. Thank you, sir," he whispered. "Oh, and if I were you I
wouldnt count on getting another professorship anywhere else," Westcott said. Alan
hung his head, and averted eye contact, as the restaurant girl, Carole Wilkes, and
professor Westcott filed silently out of the room. Alan turned to leave, when the young
man in the suit stood up and put his hand on Alans shoulder. "Just one minute, sir," he
said. Alan turned his head. "Alan Hastings," the man said, flashing a leather fob with a
shiny badge, "Im placing you under arrest for the rape of Ms. Martin." "What!!??" Alan
cried. "You have the right to remain silent…" he began. "There was no rape!" he
shouted, "Allie! Tell him! Tell him the truth! Tell him we both wanted it." "Sir, Ms.
Martin made an audio tape of your sexual encounter last night. Let me play a portion of
it for you," the detective said, and he put a small voice recorder on the table and it started
to play: "Alan, youre scaring me!" Allies voice said. "I love games as much as the
next guy," Alans voice growled, "But enough is enough. Your little cock-tease is
finished. Its my turn to drive." "Alan. No!" Allies voice said, firmly.
"She said No, professor Hastings. That makes what you did afterward, rape," the
detective said. Alan got down on his knees, crying and sobbing, "Allie…please…I never
meant to hurt you. You know that. I couldnt resist you. I was weak. My career is
ruined, fine. I dont know why you did this to me, but please, please Allie, dont let them
send me to prison. Pleeaaaaaase…." The detective looked at Allie and said, "Ms.
Martin, its up to you. Even with the tape, without your testimony we cant make a
case." Allie thought for a moment, and then she said quietly, "I wont testify. I dont
want to go through that. I cant. Im sorry, officer." "Well, if you change your mind,
heres my card," he said, and he left the room. Alan sat in a chair, drained of all spirit.
He looked at her and with tears in his eyes, uttered one word, "Why?" Allie stood next to
him and lifted his chin to look him in the eyes. Alan felt her long nails pressing under his
chin, and despite himself his dick started to stir.
"My full name," she said, "Is Alana Hastings Martin. I changed it from Martinez. My
mother was Ana Martinez. Twenty-two years ago you gave her $500 to abort me. But
obviously, she didnt. My mother never got her college degree, and she worked three
jobs to support us and send me to school. She died last year, and I swore I would get
revenge on the man who abandoned her, and me." Alans face was ghostly, and he
became sick and lurched to the waste basket and threw up. He whispered, "Y-youre m-
my d-d-d…" "Daughter," Allie said, "Youre so pathetic you cant even say the word."
"My God! I-I…Oh, Jesus, I had sex with my own daughter! How could you do that?
How could you bring yourself to have sex with your own father?" Alan cried. "Anyone
can do anything if theres enough hatred," she said. "Oh, Allie," he sobbed, "Please
believe me….Im sorry, Im so so sorry." "What do you regret most, Alan?" she asked
coldly, scraping a long fingernail gently across the back of his neck and hearing him
inhale sharply. "That you fucked me?" she said, "Or the fact you still want to fuck me?"
Allie fingered the card the detective gave her, and took her cellphone out of her purse.
"No…wait…please…Ill give you anything you want, just please, dont call the police,"
he cried. Allie tapped her long nails on her cellphone and said, "Im listening." "I-I
have some money put away. Fifty thousand dollars. Its not much, but its all Ive got.
Y-you can have it all. Itll pay for your college. Whatever. Take it, its yours," he
sobbed, "W-we can go to the bank right now." "Rinse your mouth out. Your breath
smells like throwup," Allie said, "Ill be waiting downstairs."
Alan drove Allie to his bank and told the manager he wanted a cashiers check in Allies
name for the full fifty thousand dollars in his account. "No," Allie said, handing the
manger a slip of paper, "Wire transfer it to this account." Alan looked at her puzzled as
they walked out. "I bank offshore," she said, giggling, "Im philosophically opposed to
government taxation." "Look, Allie…" Alan began, but she cut him off, "Forget it. Just
drop me at my apartment, ok?" "Ok," he said sadly, and started the car. As they drove,
Allie absently clicked her long nails against each other, and drummed them on the side
window. Alan tried valiantly not to steal glances at Allies nails, but it was no use.
"Hey, lets stop for lunch. My treat," she said suddenly. Alan looked at her
flabbergasted. "A hundred grand in one week is worth celebrating, dont you think?" she
asked. "A hundred?" he said, "I only gave you fifty." "Your fifty, plus the fifty Carole
paid me to set you up so she could get the promotion to department chair, makes a
hundred grand," Allie said, "Well, allright, less the thousand I paid the girl at the
restaurant, and another thousand for the guy I hired to play the cop." "Y-you m-
mean…." Alan shrieked. "Youll never prove any of it," she laughed. Alan pulled into
her apartment parking lot, and he turned to her. "Allie, I dont care about my career or the
money. I just want…I need to know how I can make it up to you." She flashed him that
amazing smile and said sweetly, "Well…how about you come upstairs and fuck my
brains out?" And she reached over and scraped her nails down Alans arm while she
grasped his face and tried to kiss him. "Oh, God," Alan cried, sick with what his
daughter had become, and sick with himself because he couldnt help but want her nails
all over his naked body. "Stop being so melodramatic," Allie said, "And stop beating
yourself up. Youre not my father." "Huh…what…??" Alan said. Allie explained, "My
mother wasnt really pregnant, she was just young and in love with you and wanted to
trick you into marrying her. Anyway, that was twenty-two years ago and Im only
twenty. The same age Mom was then. Except she only took you for $500."
Allie put her finger under Alans chin, pressing her nail into him until he lifted his head.
"Dont be gloomy," she said. "Dont be gloomy?" Alan yelled, "You got me fired and
took every last cent I had, and you tell me not to be gloomy?" Allie leaned over and
grabbed his face in her nails and scratched them lightly down his neck, and although he
protested weakly, he couldnt resist kissing her long and deep. "What more do you want
from me?" he sobbed. "I dont know," Allie said, "I mean, rule number one is never let
yourself fall for the mark, and I never did before…but, well… maybe its whatever it
was my Mom loved about you…" Allie gently scratched his hand, and they kissed
again. "What am I supposed to do now?…I dont have a job, and Im broke," Alan said.
"Ive got four million," she said, watching Alans eyes nearly pop out of his head, "That
should hold us for a while. And I know some great father-daughter scams…a smart guy
like you should be able to learn them in no time." Allie stroked her long pointer finger
nail slowly up Alans arm. "Did you grow those just to…" he began. "Ive had them all
my life, just like my Mom. And I always will. So dont worry," she said, "Now cmon
upstairs with me and Ill give you a chance to win some of your money back." "How?"
Alan asked. Allie scraped the bulging erection in his pants with her exquisite long
fingernails and flashed her irresistible smile and said, "Ill bet you ten grand against your
old heap of a car, that I can make you cum in ten seconds, tops."
-
Natalja
The first time I noticed Natalja's nails, I gasped and held my breath. Her nails were easily 3/4 of an inch long, for a little while I was trying to work out whether they were real or not. I sweated a bit more as I stole glances in between reading my book. She sat down almost opposite me. Her long, light brown hair spread lazily on her blue denim jacket, like a finely spread silk scarf. Her brown silk pants gleamed in the otherwise dull flouresent white light of the carriage. Her rounded face was devoid of any wrinkles, and her skin was almost milky white and free from any blemishes, but it looked rather waxy, no doubt from the foundation that she wore with her make up. A faint, black line traced the outlines of her eyes, which highlighted their pale blue color. She had luscious red lips, neither too big or small, reflecting back the carriage lights. I thought she didn't look older than 22, pretty young thing, I thought, just about my age.
Natalja's was staring out the window, no doubt trying to distance herself from the crush of the crowds in the train. She had her elbow on the window, and I happened to catch her fingers as she fidgetted with her ears. Her nails were in my full view. At first I gasped as I realised that they were long. they shined on the light, reflecting the dull pink polish that I thought didn't do them justice. They were perfectly rounded on their tips. I mentally estimated that her claws were about 3/4 of an inch long, from her fingertips to the end of her nails.
As I stole glances on her nails, I happenned to glance into her eyes, and noticed that she was staring back at me. I felt a sharp shiver down my spine, as I froze for an instant, burying myself in the book I was reading. I feigned disinterest, trying to make sense of the story that I was reading, but my mind racing as to what the fingernails Natalja had was capable of ripping to shreds. Was it apples? oranges? were they even real? When I felt her gaze had lifted from me, I managed the courage to steal another glance on her nails. she had stopped fidgting now, and her nails were pressed against her cheek. I could see under her nails. In the moments that I had looking at the smooth underside of her talons, I could feel a flood of excitement at the realisation that her nails were in fact, real, and they curved ever so slightly towards her fingers.
Her nails were all the same length. I retreated my gaze back into my book, and after a few moments, stole another glance. Her nails were still pressed against her cheek, but I noticed that she had her eyes trained to meet mine. I felt like that moment was frozen, as but something seemed to have been exchanged between us. I felt like I froze as I struggled to will that nothing was the matter, I just happened to be looking at her nails when she met my gaze. I forced myself to look into my book, but I felt like I did something really silly in front of her. I felt as if there was sweat just forming up on my hair, and there was a feeling of fear and reprehension as I forced myself to understand what I was reading.
Then I heard it. The unmistakable tapping of fingernails on a hard surface. It was barely audible at first. The feeling of fear and apprehension was quickly replaced by excitement, and a feeling of danger, but I couldn't dare to look up. The tapping was consistent, and it seemed to get louder, little by little, until I couldn't bear my excitement any longer. Whether it was shear inability to control my excitement or the fear of not seeing these breathtaking nails again I managed to steal a glance at Natalja's nails. I couldn't help it but I was transfixed on her nails for a few more moments than necessary. the tapping stopped, and I glanced into her eyes. She was staring at me, but she had the faintest smile on her lips, as if she knew what I was after. She quickly turned her glance out the window. I retreated to my book.
After a few moments, I heard a slight flicking sound, fingernail on fingernail. I couldn't contain my excitement. I thought I was visibly shaking, the shiver waving from the bottom of my spine to the top of my back. Natalja didn't stop flicking. I felt like she was trying to tell me how strong her nails were. I glanced up. Her dull pink index nail was flicking against her thumbnail. a moment or two later she stopped flicking her talons, and I noticed the tiniest little smile on her lips, but all the while she was still staring out the window.
I nervously contemplated that the people pressing around me noticed what was happening between me and Natalja. I glanced around. The two older gentlemen in front of my seat, both wearing reading glassess were engrossed in their daily newspaper, while the girl next to me had her eyes closed, and leaning against the carriage wall, with her arms crossed, listening to her portable CD player and was oblivious to the outside world. The people standing near me either had their backs to me, or was staring blankly either in the roof of the train or out the window. Good. internally I breathed a sigh of relief.
I heard a telephone ringing, and then I felt Natalja rummaging through her things. She finally managed to put her black leather handbag on her lap. I watched her quickly open her bag. Her nails must have scraped the Zipper, because I heard her nails make a low, scraping sound. She answered the cell
"Hallo?" she said in accented English, as she opened her palms towards her to examine underneath her fingernails for any visible damage. I could feel both excitement and apprehension at the same time as I nervously watched her examining her nails. Her fingers were all together, as if it was a paddle, except above them brisled her 3/4 inch long fingernails. I examined their shape nervously. Absolutely perfect. Her nail polish didn't do her talons any justice at all. Her nails were perfectly rounded at the tips, no indentation or anything. The great thing was that her nails just curved slightly towards her. It didn't twist or anything. I was taking deep, long breaths just to keep myself together. I was absolutely entranced at her fingernails.
Natalja's whispers into her cell woke me up from my trance, and that was when I noticed, to my horror, that she was looking at me. There was a look on her face, a look that seemed to convey that she had accepted that I admired her fingernails. I quickly retreated into my book. Every now and then I dared glance away from my book in her general direction. I could feel that she was still looking at me. I glanced at her, and I gasped as I realised that she was.
Then I noticed that she was speaking in a language that I could not understand, but I knew the general area that it came from. It was either Yugolsavian or Polish, but I couldn't pick it. I didn't dare glance up for fear that I might have offended or scared her, I could just imagine the thoughts going through her mind as she pondered what to do with a nail freak almost opposite her.
"I'll be here. On this train. Next thursday. At 3:30. the carriage I'm on now" I was half surprised when she blurted out the accented english in between her own language. I swallowed involuntarily, and before I could stop myself I found myself glancing into her eyes. Her look said it all, and there was now a visible smile on her lips. She held the smiled for me for a moment and then looked out the window again. I took my glance back to my book. I could feel my heart thumping on my chest like drums beating during a climax in an orchestra, rythmic and sustained. I was almost certain that Natalja could feel my heart thumping, so fourious it was thumping on my chest.
She started talking in her language again, a loud whisper, but I could hear it. After a few moments she finished her call, and I heard her put the phone in her bag again. I didn't dare look into her direction. I heard the sensual flicking again of her fingernails, but it came a little less frequent. I heard a low, moaning sound, as if something was being strained, and then a flick. I tried to control my breathing but the incessant flicking sound of her fingernails served to demolish my self control until I was forced to look into her gazing, pale blue eyes. She gazed at my eyes briefly, and then quickly looked at me as if she was sizing me out.
Natalja then met my stare, and then I saw it. Her elbow was against the sill of the train window, and her chin was resting gently on the top of her left hand. Underneath, pointing to the floor, was her nails, 3/4 of an inch past her fingers. She rested the tip of her thumbnail underneath her index nail, and then she pushed. I heard the low, moaning sound, and I saw her thumbnail flex ever so slightly, and then the flicking sound as her thumbnail snapped past her index nail. She was looking into my eyes the whole time. She did it again, this time, taking longer for her thumbnail to snap past. I realised that she was trying to put as much pressure on both her thumbnail and index nail. Natalja was trying to show me how strong her nails were.
It was then that I realised that my jaw was slightly open. I snapped out of my trance, and quickly retreated to my book. I looked around briefly. I saw that there were less people, but the train was full enough that some people were still standing. Everyone seemed to still be in their own little world, and I went back to mine and Natalja's.
I then heard a scratching sound, fingernails on bare skin. Not little, quick ones, ones that you would do to get rid of a little itch. This one was very long, purposeful, yet short enough not to attract too much attention. But it certainly got mine. The sound of Natalja's nails raking her own skin was almost too much. I could feel the heat inside me making me break out into a sweat, and I could almost feel as if a sweat was about to slither down the side of my face. I couldn't help but look up.
Natalja had a smile on her face, a knowing smile, like she knew something was happening. I almost didn't care. I needed to look at her talons, raking through her smooth, featureless skin, leaving red welts, and making a sensual, raking sound. I could see her nails had no problems handling the pressure Natalja was exerting on them. She then stopped scratching and opened her bag. I saw her glance quickly around, and take out an identity pass, which she put on top of her bag, as she looked for something else. I glanced at the pass. It was white, the size of a credit card. It had her picture on it. Her surname was taped over but her name was unmistakable. Natalja. After a few minutes of fruitless searching she returned her pass into her bag. She then looked into my eyes for a long moment and then looked out the window. Through her reflection I could see she was smiling.
I felt the train slow down again, and she fiddled with her things, checking them over, and preparing to leave. I snapped back to my book, and then stole a glance at her. She briefly looked out the window and then stood up, waking the girl next to me, and making the two older men shift their newspaper out of the way to let her pass. I closed my book and had my hand on top, exposed on my lap. I was looking down on the floor when her legs came into view, then I felt a sharp, short scratch on my hand. I looked just in time to see a dull pink thumbnail finish slicing a long, red welt on top of my hand. I felt a gasp in my lungs, and I held my breath to keep my emotions from exploding out of me.
I looked up to see Natalja was looking away to the other side, of the train, holding the thin metal post that was just next to me. She then looked at me briefly, and then looked away again. There was no emotion in her face. She then slowly slid her hands down the post. Her nails stopped just level with my eyeline. The post was less than a foot away. I stared at her dull pink fingernails, admiring how perfectly shaped they were.
Natalja started tapping her thumbnail into the post, making a distinctive metallic sound everytime her thumbnail hit it. from my view I could feel my knees were getting weaker, and I let out a long, exhausted sigh. I wondered whether Natalja was just trying to show me the strength on her thumbnail, or trying to use her nails puncture through the post.
I felt the train stop, and Natalja ran her nails on the post, making a long, low, metallic sound, as if tempting me to follow, but I bit my lip and stayed where I was. Natalja disappeared out the door with a few other passengers. I looked out the window as Natalja walked past she looked at me with those blue eyes. She then smiled and winked, and then looked forward as the train left the station. I breathed a big sigh of relief and disappointment. I then saw a crumpled piece of paper on my lap, just next to my book. I seized on it and kept it on my hand, until enough people had left that there was no one near me. I opened the piece of paper, and noticed cell number on it. I quickly crumpled it back into my pocket, wondering about my next move
-
NEIGHBORS
NEIGHBORS
It was 8AM on Sunday morning and Peter Merkle lay naked on his back on his mattress,
his hands and feet bound to the four bedposts. He managed to bang the headboard
against the wall and cry out, "Jeannie? Are you there? Help me!" "Jesus, Peter. Its the
second time this month," a muffled voice cried from the next apartment, "Give me a
second. Ill be right there."
Jeannie hastily threw on her bathrobe and rummaged through her kitchen drawer for the
spare key that Peter had left with her. She grabbed her nurses bag and hurried next door.
"I know, I know. Dont say it. Im sorry, Jeannie. You know I cant help myself," Peter
said ashamedly, as he looked up at his neighbor standing over his naked body, "But
youre the only nurse I know." Peters chest, neck, arms and legs were laced with long,
thin, red and bloody marks, and as he struggled against his restraints, she could see that
his back and ass were also scored and bleeding. "Cripes," Jeannie the nurse cried, "Some
of these look pretty deep. You really ought to go to the ER and have them irrigated and
sutured." "I cant. I cant face anybody else…the looks of disgust, knowing Ill be the
joke of the whole staff for a week," Peter said, searching Jeannies face for sympathy,
"Youre the only one who knows, and I want it to stay that way. Remember, I take care
of your cats whenever you have to work long hours at the hospital." "Yeah, yeah,"
Jeannie said, "But if you get an infection and die, dont say I didnt warn you." "Youre
a good friend, Jeannie," Peter said, grasping her arm. Jeannie was in her late 20s,
somewhat plain, but not fat and definitely not ugly. His words stung her, because she
harbored a deep desire to be more than just a friend to him…more than just the nurse next
door who patched him up after one of his nights of debauchery with the twisted, sadistic
women he sought out.
Jeannie set her nurses bag on Peters bedroom floor and took out bottles of peroxide and
betadine, and some cotton swabs. "Arent you going to untie me?" Peter asked. Jeannie
was silent, going about carefully cleaning and disinfecting the scratches that covered
Peters upper body. "Jeannie?" he said, a little louder, "This is humiliating enough.
Please untie me." "Oh, so this is humiliating, but last night wasnt?" Jeannie said
sarcastically. Peter sighed and turned his head away from her. Jeannie placed butterfly
closures over the deepest wounds, which were mostly on his back. She dressed them
with antiseptic and gauze, and then she treated the bleeding scratches that ran the length
of his legs. Throughout this, Peter clenched his teeth and grimmaced, and tears of pain
streamed down his cheeks, stinging the four thin, parallel bleeding marks on either side of
his face. But he didnt ask her again to untie him. Jeannie finally dabbed some peroxide
on those facial scratches and swabbed them with betadine. "Here," she said, holding a
pill bottle, "Open." She laid a Percoset on Peters tongue, and he swallowed it.
"Thank you. Thank you so much," Peter said earnestly. "Ill be going now," she said
dryly. "Uhh…," Peter said, pulling at his restraints and looking into Jeannies eyes. She
ignored his obvious plea to be untied and said, "Have you ever tried to stop?". "I tried.
By myself. But I cant afford therapy," he said. "How long has it been going on?"
Jeannie asked, "That is, if you dont mind me asking." "Youre the only person I think I
can tell," Peter said quietly, "The only one I can trust not to judge me. Untie me and Ill
tell you everything." "Since you trust me," Jeannie said with a wink, pulling up a chair,
"Tell me everything…and then Ill untie you."
Peter looked into Jeannies eyes and saw no sympathy for his humiliating position,
splayed out naked on his back, tied to his own bed. He told her he needed to pee, and she
reached into her nurses bag and, with a smile, produced a plastic urinal wrapped in
cellophane. Peter sighed resignedly and began, "It was the first day of kindergarten. I
was the youngest boy in the class and also the smallest. My teachers name was Miss
Summers. She couldnt have been older than her early 20s, and she was very pretty.
Long blonde hair and blue eyes. She had a warm smile and a soft voice, and she was
very sweet…or so it seemed at first. What I noticed right away were her hands. She had
very feminine hands. And, very, very long fingernails. Thinking back, they must have
been at least an inch, and narrow, like ten daggers. She kept them perfectly manicured,
tapered almost to points but just slightly rounded, and they were always clear-polished.
To this day I dont know why, but from the first moment I saw her nails I couldnt take
my eyes off them." Jeannie looked briefly at her own nails, that were a bit less than
inch because of hospital regulations, and self-consciously folded her arms with her hands
tucked under her armpits. Peter continued, "One day I saw her stoop to tie one of the
other boys shoelaces, and I just stood there gawking, watching those clear, shiny,
extremely long nails darting in and out, over and under, as she quickly knotted his laces.
From then on, I made a habit of untieing my shoelaces and walking around until she saw
them, because she would always say Peter, youre going to trip! and motion me to come
let her tie my shoelaces. At least once a day, sometimes more, I was treated to a close-up
performance by her long, beautiful nails." Jeannie cleared her throat. "Im listening," she
said. Peter went on, "Well, one day I was horsing around with some of the other kids,
and for some reason I picked up a book and hit one of the little girls over the head with it,
and she started to cry. Suddenly I felt this burning pain in my shoulder, and I looked up,
and Miss Summers was grabbing my shoulderwith her nails. You never, ever hit a
girl, do you understand? she said through her clenched teeth. There was a look on her
face that I had never seen before. It wasnt so much anger, as it was pure evil. I
remember screaming and crying and trying to wiggle out of her painful clutches, but she
just dug her nails in deeper and a smirk came over her lips. She was so beautiful, her
nails were so beautiful, and yet she was causing me extreme painand seeming to
delight in it." "Oh my gosh," Jeannie said, "She should have been fired for that!" "In
those days a teacher could get away with it," Peter said, "Heck, they could paddle you if
they wanted." Jeannie shivvered and sighed. "But something happened to me that day,"
Peter said, "The pain and the fear…it was strangely exciting. After that, whenever I saw
Miss Summers nails, or any other pretty young woman with long fingernails, I felt the
same rush of excitement. I actually would purposely misbehave in class so Miss
Summers would dig her nails into me. I cant be sure, but I think digging her nails into
me excited her, too. I think maybe after school hours, Miss Summers might have been
like the women I gravitate to now." "So, that was it?" Jeannie asked. "That was only
the beginning," Peter answered.
"From that moment on, I was magnetized to womens long nails. Everywhere I went, I
would see a young woman and my eyes went directly to her hands. I remember how it
would frustrate me if I couldnt get a good look, or if she was wearing gloves. And I
remember the dejection I felt if her nails were short, and the euphoria I felt if they were
long. The longer they were, the wilder was my excitement. I would lie awake at night
and recall some long-nailed woman Id seen that day, fantasizing that she was digging
those long fingernails into me and smirking with delight." Jeannie crossed her legs.
"This is truly fascinating," she said earnestly, "I never imagined it went back that far in
your life." "The way I recall my childhood and adolescence is as a blur of insignificant
fast-forwards between high-definition playbacks of episodes involving long nails," Peter
confessed. "Tell them to me," Jeannie implored him, with fascination in her voice, "Tell
me all of them."
"Okay. If you want," Peter chuckled, "It might take all day." Once again Peter looked at
his restraints and then into Jeannies eyes, but she ignored his silent plea. Jeannie sat
back and put her feet up on the bed with her soles against his naked thigh. "I have all
day," she said, brushing him gently with her toes, and she cocked her head and raised her
eyebrows for him to continue his tale. Peter sighed, and began, "The next incident that
stands out was the following year, it was the first day of first grade. Id been anticipating
meeting my new teacher, and had worked my hopes up sky-high that she would have
extremely long fingernails. Of course the first thing I did was check out her nails, and to
my great dismay, they were short." Jeannie thought of her own -inch nails, which were
already at the limit of hospital regulations, and bit her lower lip. "I was disappointed and
depressed, and could only think of how boring the school year was going to drone on for
the next nine months. I glanced around the room at the few girls who were sitting
nearby, and wished the years would fly by until I was grown up, so I could work in an
office with beautiful secretaries with long, manicured fingernails. The teacher gave a
stack of papers to a boy and a girl who were sitting in the front row at either side of the
room, and told them to pass them out. My mind was halfway off in a daydream when the
little girl passing out papers squeezed herself between the front of my desk and the back
of the chair of the boy sitting in front of me. I was her last stop, and she set the paper
down, and both of her hands were flat on my desk in front of me, and I nearly fainted
when I saw them. She had the longest fingernails I had ever seenor have sinceon a
girl of that age. I mean, they were really long. They were varying lengths, from at least
inch to almost inch, and even a little longer than that on her thumbnails. I know it
doesnt sound like a big deal, but it would be proportional to an inch or two on an adult
woman. They were also obviously filed and shaped, sort of rounded, and it dawned on
me that meant she had to be into her nails. I felt like I had a sudden fever and my whole
body was shaking. She must have seen me staring bug-eyed at her hands, because she
pulled them away quickly, and as she did, her nails scraped across the wooden desk and
made a sound that I remember to this day. Her hands were gone from my view, so then I
looked up briefly. She had shoulder-length dark-brown hair with a center part, and
pierced ears with tiny gold studs. Her eyes were huge and blue, and for a split second
they met mine. She brought one hand back up and slowly itched her other arm with her
long fingernails. I remember the sound, and the white streaks she made on her skin. I
began to shake again. Then she put her other hand back flat on my desk in front of me
and kept it there as she continued squeezing past, and as she turned to walk away, she
again scraped her long fingernails across the wood, only this time a little more slowly.
She half-smiled, and we both knew she owned me." Jeannie wished to own Peter. She
had long wracked her brain trying to figure out what deep emotional personality trait she
needed to cultivate in order to attract him, and now that she knew it was something as
to herinsignificant as long fingernails, it was bitterly ironic, because she couldnt have
them more than -inch because of her nursing job.
"Karli," Peter said, snapping Jeannie out of her lamentation. "Huh?" Jeannie said. "That
was her name. Karli, with a K and and i. From that minute on, I followed her
everywhere…from a distance of course…hoping to get a look at her incredibly long
fingernails. The word stalker hadnt been invented yet, but I guess I was one. She
knewI wasnt very slickbut she pretended not to notice. She didnt want to
acknowledge me, but she was intrigued with her power to infatuate. After a few weeks
though, she grew bored with me just following her from a distance. She wanted to see
how much power she could really have over me. Still, she wasnt bold enough to be the
agressor, or skillful enough to get me to be bolder. Finally one Saturday I was riding my
bike in the neighborhood and I happened to pass by the house of this girl Cindy who was
also in my grade, and she yelled at me to stop. I got off my bike and she said to come
into the back yard because she had something to show me. She led me by the hand, back
behind the garage, where there was a little wooden playhouse her dad had built her. She
was all excited and spewed out one long thought train in a single breathless sentence,
Were playing house and me and my little sister are the kids and my teddy bear was the
daddy but we want a real boy to be the daddy and my brother wont play with us and so
you have to be the daddy! I said no and started to pull away, and Cindy yelled help me
and suddenly her little sister emerged from the playhouse and grabbed my other hand. I
was struggling to get away and was about to break free, so Cindy called for help again,
and out of the playhouse pops Karli, who come to find out was playing the mommy.
Karli grabbed my arm, and I could feel her long fingernails pressing into me. She wasnt
digging them in purposely or hard, and even though I could feel they were sharp, it didnt
hurt. But it was like she was sapping me of all my strength." "Samson and Delilah,"
Jeannie mused, tickling Peters ribs with her big toes. "I remember Cindy looking at
Karli gripping my arm and saying to me Karli has long sharp nails and shell make you
bleed unless you play with us and then Karli letting go of my arm and saying No I
wont. The truth was, I so wanted her to dig them in as hard as she could." Jeannies
legs and back were getting stiff, and she stood up and stretched. "Really, Jeannie, could
you please untie me now?" Peter asked. Jeannie looked at Peters naked body, with his
arms and legs stretched and bound to the four corners of his bed. "Nope," she said
sweetly, and she got on the bed and lay across him, propping herself on one elbow and
softly patting his sore, scratch-covered stomach. Jeannie knew Peter had to be physically
as well as emotionally very uncomfortable, but she could feel herself getting aroused and
wet and for once in her life she couldnt resist putting her own pleasure first. "Sorry for
interrupting you Peter," Jeannie said with sincerity, "Please continue." "Where was I?"
Peter asked. Jeannie answered, "You were about to play house with Cindy and her sister
and you wanted Karli to dig her nails into you…" "Right, ok," Peter said, "So I went into
the playhouse with the girls. But I remember still pretending that I was trying to get
away, so that Karli wouldnt let go of my arm. The feeling of her nails pressing into me
was giving me that same scared but excited feeling like I got from my kindergarten
teacher…except that Karlis nails werent hurting me. So there we all were inside the
tent. Karli and I were playing the mommy and the daddy, and Cindy and her little
sisterI think her name was Becky or Betsywere pretending to be our daughters. To
me it was a stupid girly game and I dont remember most of how it went, because I was
totally absorbed with watching Karlis extremely long fingernails the whole time. I
hadnt been that close to them since the first day I saw her passing out papers in class,
and either she had grown them even longer in the couple of months since, or I had
forgotten just how long they were, or maybe some of both. Bottom-line, I was literally
shaking and having trouble speaking my lines, which was irritating Cindy. Finally,
Cindy decided that it was time for daddy to go to work. I quickly got out of the
playhouse and started to walk away, but Cindy screamed that it was the end of the day
and daddy was coming home…which meant I had to turn around and go back inside the
playhouse. Thats when Cindy said that daddy has to kiss mommy hello. Well, I had
never played house before and didnt know I was just supposed to pretend-kiss, and with
complete innocenceI swear to God on thatI planted a quick one right on Karlis lips.
She was kind of taken off guard and she pushed me away, in the process scratching her
nails all down my arms. I mean, she wasnt trying to scratch me hard, it was just that she
was a kid and her movements were kind of quick and jerky like kids are, and she forgot
about her nails. Anyway, I wasnt bleeding but there were pink marks all along my arms,
and Karli gasped and started to cry. I assured her that she hadnt hurt me (although I
didnt tell her that it really felt great) but that wasnt what she was crying about. It was
because her mom had told her she would make her cut her nails if she ever hurt anybody
with them. I told Karli not to worry, that I would never tell on her if she scratched me,
because I didnt want her to have to cut her nails. Karli stopped crying and looked at me
with this grateful smile and said You swear you wont tell? and I said, Cross my heart
and hope to die. Karli was silent for a moment, and then she said, Not even if I stabbed
my nails into you as hard as I can? And I said Not even. She laughed and said Dont
worry I would never do that. And I remember feeling terribly disappointed. Right then
Cindys little sister announced that she needed to use the bathroomfor realand Cindy
took her up to their house. That left me and Karli alone in the little playhouse. Karli and
I looked at each other for a second and then we both quickly looked away. There was a
minute of awkward silence, and then to my shock, Karli said very quietly Would you
like me to scratch your back? and without even waiting for me to answer she pulled my
shirt up and started very slowly raking all ten of her long fingernails up and down and
across my bare back, and I think I almost fainted. I remember I kept asking her to do it
harder and harder, and she did, until finally she said she was making me all full of red
marks, and then she stopped." Jeannie glanced quickly at Peters dick and it was limp,
which made her very relieved. If thoughts of a first-grader with long nails had aroused
him, she would have been totally disgusted. Nonetheless, the combination of being
almost on top of Peters naked body while he was bound to the bed, and hearing him
reveal his innermost secrets, had gotten her extremely aroused, and she wanted to touch
his cock. Jeannie summoned all her self-restraint, but she was almost panting when she
asked Peter, "What happened next?"
"Well, for the rest of the year I hung around Karli as much as I could. She and Cindy
were best friends and I was always riding my bike past Cindys house in the hopes that I
would see Karlis bike there, and then I would knock on the door or go into their back
yard. I think Cindy had a crush on me, but she hadnt figured out that I had a crush on
Karli. Well, actually on Karlis extremely long fingernails. Karli would give us both
backscratches for what seemed like hours at a time while we watched TV. She did us
both at the same time with one hand each, but she would do it very gently to Cindy while
she was raking me much harder because she knew thats how I liked it." Jeannie smiled
and laughed, "You had two girls going apeshit over you at the same time and never got
them jealous of each other…in the first grade? I never knew guys were born with that
talent." "I wasnt even thinking about it, it just worked out," Peter chuckled, but then he
became melancholy and mused, "Those were innocent days…before the whole nail thing
swallowed me and turned my life into hell." At that moment Jeannie wanted desperately
to kiss Peter, and she nearly did, but before she could he chuckled and blushed and
started talking again, "Speaking of innocence…no, I cant tell you that." "Oh my God!
You cant come out with a teaser like that and then not tell me!" Jeannie cried, "I swear
Ill leave you tied up for the rest of your life until you tell me!" "Its really
embarassing," Peter said. "Youre lying there naked, left there by your one-night-stand,
bound hand and foot to your own bed, covered with scratches," Jeannie said, "How
much more embarassing can it get?" "Point taken," Peter said sheepishly.
"Well," he began, "One Sunday after Church I rode my bike to Cindys house and Karli
was there, and they were in the back yard in Cindys playhouse. Only, this time they
were pretending it was a hospital. Cindy had one of those toy nursing sets, and they were
pretending that some of Cindys dolls and stuffed animals were the patients. Cindy was
examining her teddy bear with a toy stethoscope and giving orders to Karliwho was
always very sweet, compared to Cindy who could get controlling and moody. Karli
wanted me to pretend to be a doctor, but Cindy had other ideas." Jeannie giggled, "I bet I
know where this is going." "Okay, then I can stop here," Peter said hopefully. "Not on
your life!" Jeannie laughed, and she gave Peter a playful nibble on his arm. She really
wanted to take off her bathrobe and panties and climb naked on top of him.
"Okay, here goes. But remember, we were just first-graders and we didnt know
anything about anything," Peter began. "Oh, I know," Jeannie assured him, "I did the
same kind of thing when I was about that age. Its just natural curiosity." "Well," Peter
continued, closing his eyes, "As you figured, Cindy decided that I should be the patient,
and she and Karli proceeded to give me a…um….complete physical. Cindy had the
younger sister and Karli had an older sister, so neither of them had ever seen a
boys…..you-know. Cindy was utterly fascinated and not the least bit embarassed to do
a very thorough hands-on exam. Looking back, Cindy handled me somewhat roughly,
and its a miracle she didnt innocently yank hard, or crush my nuts in her fist. Karli
seemed to be fine with remaining an onlooker, and leave the hands-on part to Cindy, but
Cindy would have none of it, and prodded Karli into taking a turn. Karli was, like I said
before, a sweet soul, and she handled me carefully. What I remember most is that
because of how very long her fingernails were, she kept touching me with the tips. I
remember watching her graceful fingers with those long, clear nails and feeling how
sharp they were, as she tried to be as gentle as she could. I just sat there hypnotized by
her nails. It probably only lasted half a minute, but it felt like hours." Suddenly Peters
eyes flew open and he raised his head. "Jeannie!" he cried, dumbfounded, feeling her
hand on his cock. She was lying across his stomach with her back to him, but she turned
and looked him in the eye. "What?" she said indignantly, then with a twinkle, "Im a real
nurse. I have a license to examine you." "Please, Jeannie," he said quietly, looking
around at the bindings on his wrists and ankles, "Dont humiliate me any more than I am
already." Jeannie said, "Thats not what I…oh, forget it," and she covered his privates
with a corner of the sheet, "I want to hear more. Tell me more." "Are you sure its ok?"
he asked. "Yes, Im sure," she answered, and then asked with a grin, "So did you
become a regular patient?"
"No, that was the only time we played doctor," Peter said, "It was
weird…frustrating…being around Karli. Seeing her really long nails made me weak in
the knees, and getting touched by them even accidentally was like a rare treat that made
me tingle from head to foot. Still, I had this deep wish to feel how much it would hurt if
she really scratched me or dug her nails into me as hard as she could. Once in a while if
we were roughhousing, she would forget she had long, sharp nails and scratch me hard
enough by accident to make a red mark, but Karli was so shocked and sad and apologetic
when it happened, that it took a lot of the pleasure out of it. I guess I wanted her to want
to claw me, and see her delight in it. But she didnt like to hurt anyone, and in fact she
was such a girly-girl that she really didnt like roughhousing at all. One time I actually
offered her a cupcake if she would scratch me as hard as she could, but she just said No,
I wont, I dont want to. Trying to make her angry wouldnt have worked, because she
would have just started crying." "She sounds like a really sweet little girl," Jeannie
observed. "Looking back, she was definitely more compassionate and caring than any of
the other girls our age. Ironically, that made things more frustrating for me. Man, if
Cindy had been the one with the long nails she wouldve ripped me to pieces without a
moments hesitation." "So were you and Karli an item all through elementary school?"
Jeannie enquired. "No, sadly," Peter lamented, "During the summer after first grade her
parents made her start piano lessons and she had to cut her nails. The first time I saw her
without them, I felt like someone had stuck a knife in my heart, then in a heartbeat it was
like a spell had been broken, and she was just some anonymous girl, of no interest to
me." "Poor child," Jeannie said. "Yeah, I was really depressed," Peter sighed. "I meant
her," Jeannie said.
"Are you done wanting to listen to my sick childhood then?" Peter asked. "Im sorry. I
didnt mean to sound judgmental," Jeannie said quietly, "You do realize you mustve hurt
her, dont you?" "Of course I do now," Peter said contritely. "Well as long as you do,"
Jeannie said, "Then go on. I want to hear more." "Well," Peter began, "Second through
sixth grades were a total bust…no long-nailed girls or teachers…so we can just fast-
forward right through them. Seventh grade…oh, man, seventh grade was when I met
Marcie. Her parents had just divorced and she her mom moved back to town and were
living with Marcies grandparents. Evidently the divorce had been particularly nasty, and
Marcie had adopted an attitude as a defense mechanism. And holy crap, she had the
sharpest fingernails known to mankind. They werent very long…about like yours."
Jeannie pulled her hands back behind her quickly in a self-conscious reflex, which Peter
ignored as he went on, "But she had them filed almost into points, and the part of her
nails that are attached to the fingers…what are they called?" "Nail beds," Jeannie
offered, dryly. "Thanks, Nurse Jeannie," Peter smiled, but she wasnt amused.
"Anyway," Peter continued, "So her nail beds were quite long, and with the ends not
really long but filed almost into points, they were razor-sharp and really strong, and so
without hurting herself or breaking her nails she could pinch and dig and scratch with all
her strength. And, oh man, did she ever. Right from day one she got the reputation of
being a hellcat. I still remember seeing her scratch up a guy after school that first day,
when he pushed her out of the way. She just clawed both of his arms from his shoulders
down, and the scratches started bleeding right away. She just stood there defiantly,
staring him in the eye, until he starting crying and ran off. I was smitten with her right
then and there, and I knew I had to feel those nails on me. I knew it wouldnt be
difficult…not like it was with Karli." "You mean to tell me that even after you saw what
her nails could do, you still wanted her to do it to you?" Jeannie asked with shock. "Lets
stop ignoring the 600-lb gorilla in the room," Peter said, looking at himself bound to the
bed and covered with scratches, "I know Im sick. I dont like being like I am." His
voice was breaking as he declared, "I wish I could have a normal relationship with a
normal woman. A sweet, compassionate, caring woman." Peter looked deep and
longingly into Jeannies eyes. Jeannie felt a stirring in her loins, felt herself getting hot
and wet. Her eyes narrowed and her lips parted and she began breathing hard.
Summoning up all her willpower she took a deep, cleansing breath and said, "Finish the
story, Peter. Please."
"Well, by that time, by seventh grade, I wasnt completely clueless anymore. But, you
know, in those days at that age the most we hoped for was a kiss, and we had to play
spin-the-bottle to get even that. It wouldve been easy to get Marcie to claw me up by
making her hate me, but I wanted her to like me and be my girlfriend, and also to scratch
me. I really didnt have any idea how I was going to work that out. Getting close to
Marcie was almost impossible. Patience is not something a seventh grader has much of,
so taking it slow was not something I could do. Luckily, biology counts for a lot, and
Marcie thought I was cute and wanted to be my girlfriend as much as I wanted her to
be. So that happened pretty fast. We were at a party at my best-friends house and pretty
soon we were all in a circle on the floor in his basement playing spin the bottle. I
remember that we were all shoeless and everyone had socks on except Marcie, and she
had her toenails painted red. Id never seen anyone other than a grownup with painted
toenails before, and she mustve seen me looking at them and she kept curling and
wiggling her toes very slowly. Her nail beds on her toes were long like on her fingers,
and I could see that her toenails were a little long past the ends of her toes. I remember
actually daydreaming that Marcie could scratch me with her toenails." "You reminded
me. I need to cut my toenails," Jeannie giggled, lifting her leg in the air. Peter paid
attention to them for the first time. Her toenails were about 1/8 inch. "You have pretty
toes," he said, "You shouldnt cut them, but you should paint them." "Red, I bet" Jeannie
said. Peter blushed. "Ask me and I might," she said. "Consider yourself asked," Peter
said. Jeannie smiled. "Dont go anywhere," she said, getting up. Peter strained at his
binds. "Like I can," he said. Jeannie left the room quietly, and returned in a couple of
minutes with a little kit bag. She opened it and took out a bottle of red nail polish and
shook it, then she put it on the nightstand and sat on the bed with her feet against Peters
ribs and began slowly painting her toenails. "So there you were, playing spin-the-bottle
with Marcie," Jeannie said, encouraging Peter to pick up his tale where hed left off.
"Okay, so the rules were, the circle was boy-girl-boy-girl and each person in the circle
took a turn spinning the bottle. If it pointed to someone of the same gender, you forfeited
the turn (to my knowledge, there was nobody present who objected to that rule!). If it
pointed to someone of the opposite gender, the two had to go into the broom closet and
kiss for one full minute. My first spin pointed to this girl Cherry, who wore glasses and
had braces. Marcies and my eyes met and she kind of smiled like she was laughing at
my bad luck. Cherry had just had her braces adjusted that morning and her teeth were
really sore and sensitive, and we spent most of the minute trying to find a way to kiss that
didnt hurt her. Marcies first spin pointed to this guy Rick, who was really good-looking
but somewhat of a jerk, and I was green with jealousy. But as they stood up, Marcie said
If you use your tongue Ill scratch you and she curled her fingers so he could see her
sharp, pointy fingernails. I could see the color drain from Ricks face, and he wasnt
smiling when they went inside the closet…or when they emerged a few moments later.
My next spin pointed to a girl named Barbara, who had blonde hair and was starting to
develop breasts. For those reasons, she was the one all the guys hoped to get closet time
with. I wasnt into her at all, because her nails were chewed down to nubs. Another
reason all the boys liked Barbara was because she frenched. As the two of us got up off
the floor, Marcie shot me a sad look, and she shot Barbara a sinister dirty look. Inside the
closet Barbara confided in me that she was sure Marcie liked me, and that she was scared
to death of Marcie. Barbara did not french me, and we barely spent like 15 seconds in the
closet. Marcies next spin pointed to a girl, so she lost her turn. My next spin pointed to
a guy, so I lost mine. Marcies next turn almost pointed to me but went a little past and
pointed to the girl sitting next to me. That meant forfeiting another turn, but Marcie
screamed no fair! at the top of her lungs, and said that the rule was stupid and she was
making a new rule that if the bottle pointed to a same-gender person two turns in a row,
the bottle-spinner went in the closet with the person right before the bottle stopped.
Which in this case was me." "Clever girl, I like her initiative," Jeannie grinned, still
slowly painting her toenails shiny red. Peter continued, "I think everybody in the room
knew Marcie liked me, but nobody was going to call her out or object to her changing the
rules because, frankly, everyone was scared of her. So into the closet we went. Marcie
smiled and held my hands, and she slowly stroked her fingers up my arms to my
shoulders and then around the back of my neck. Frustratingly, I didnt feel her sharp
nails even once. She had to whisper to me to put my arms around her, and I said sorry
and she said its ok and I said I really want to kiss you and she said me too and then
we kissed for what seemed like a very long time. We came up for air for a second and I
suddenly remembered her warning to Rick that she would scratch him if he tried to slip
her the tongue, and I so I did. But instead of clawing me, she opened her mouth and
started licking my tongue and the roof of my mouth. Id never frenched anyone before,
and I dont think she had either. We were both pretty clumsy at it, but we didnt know
any better, so we were both loving it. In fact, we had been standing up when we started
but by the time we heard them banging on the door to say our time was up, we were
huddled on the pile of winter coats that was on the floor, and didnt remember getting
there. Anyway, after that Marcie said she didnt want to play spin-the-bottle any more,
and she gave me a glaring look and I said I didnt either." "God, those were the days,
werent they," Jeannie sighed, "Everything was new and fresh and amazing." "Yeah,
true," Peter said with a touch of bitterness, "Except that for me, there was the
disappointment that she hadnt scratched me. Thats so messed up." Jeannie swung her
legs over and put her feet on Peters chest, and she spread her freshly-painted red toes.
"You like?" she asked brightly. "Huh? Yeah, theyre hot," Peter said rather distractedly,
then realizing she had painted her toenails just for him, he looked in her eyes and said
very quietly, "Jeannie…oh my God, you really care for me, dont you?" "You have to
tell me the rest of the Marcie story," she begged. Jeannie fluffed the pillow under Peters
head and he closed his eyes. Jeannie took a folding mirror from her kit bag and propped
it on the nightstand, unzipped a little makeup case and began applying some blush to her
cheeks with a soft brush as Peter resumed telling the story.
"So Marcie and I became officially boyfriend and girlfriend at that party. My parents
were divorced too, and my dad was not part of our lives, so we had that in common,
although I never really knew my dad and Marcie had been very close to hers, so I
couldnt really relate, but as far as I was concerned, if Marcie thought we had a special
connection, and it helped cement our bond, it worked for me. Other romances in my
grade usually didnt last more than a few weeks, but it was imperative to me that Marcie
and I would be together forever…or at least until someone else with long fingernails
came along and gave me another option. Anyway, she wasnt the kind to open up and
want to talk about her feelings, so I never had to prove that I could relate to her situation.
The biggest issue I had was that Marcie had wild mood-swings. I dont think she fit the
definition of bi-polar, more like, hormonal. One minute she was all smiles and giggles
and the next she was throwing a tantrum. It was hard to predict what would set her off.
Luckily, the tantrum was over as quickly as it started, and she was back to smiles and
giggles. I hoped that sooner or later one of those tantrums would result in her using those
razor-sharp fingernails on me, but she didnt. She did use them on other people regularly
though, which frustrated me. Although, seeing up-close what damage they could do, and
hearing peoples blood-curdling screams of pain, kind of made me have second thoughts.
Remember, the only time someone had actually used long nails on me was my
kindergarten teacher, and in retrospect, she had grabbed me through my shirt and not hard
enough to break my skin. I had never really been scratched seriously, it was just this
fantasy I had." "Oh my God, thats right!" Jeannie said, applying dark eyeliner, "You
really didnt know how bad it would hurt, did you?"
"No, I didnt," Peter said, "But I was too young and dumb to figure that out, plus
probably after so many years the fantasy already had too strong a hold over me. Anyway,
after a month we were still going strong, and instead of spin-the-bottle, our circle of
friends had graduated to make-out sessions, where three or four couples would gather in
someones room or basement and one couple would take turns listening for parents while
the other couples were making out. If the lookout heard a parent coming, he or she
would turn on the lights and everyone would quickly separate and look like they were
playing Monopoly or watching TV. Then when the danger had passed, the lights went
off and couples went back to making out. We all knew whose house was more
logistically amenable to it, and whose parents were the least strict about chaperoning.
We really had it down to a science." "Its so amazing how similar it was where I grew
up. We totally were so devious at getting away with stuff right under our parents noses,"
Jeannie giggled. Peter laughed in agreement. His eyes were open, just as Jeannie
finished putting on her makeup, and he was momentarily startled by her appearance. "Oh
wow, I dont think Ive ever seen you with makeup before. You really look hot," he said.
"Thank you, Peter," Jeannie said, flashing him a smile with glossy-moist, red lips. "I, uh,
feel really under-dressed here," Peter said, gazing down at his naked body, with only his
private parts covered by a corner of the sheet, "Maybe you could untie me now and I
could put something on and…" "So you and Marcie were making-out at someones
house," she interrupted him excitedly, "And what happened next?" Peter sighed and
rested his head back on the pillow.
"Well, so I had Marcie as my girlfriend, but I still hadnt got to feel her nails on me. I
wasnt completely stupid, I knew that wanting to be scratched was not normal, and I
didnt want to scare Marcie away. I remembered back to Karli and a light bulb went on.
While we were making out I stopped and told Marcie that my back itched, and I
pretended that I couldnt reach where it itched. Marcie scratched it for me, at first
through my shirt, and then I said it still itched and pulled up my shirt, and she started
scratching my bare back. Finally we went back to making out, and I whispered to her
that my back still itched. So she reached up under my shirt and she was scratching my
back while we continued making out, and I was like I died and went to heaven. She must
have felt that I was kissing her harder or something, or maybe I sighed or something,
because she whispered in my ear, You really like my fingernails dont you. I didnt say
anything but I was actually shaking, so then she said, Admit it, and I actually said that I
loved them, and she said Me too, and then, Wanna know a secret Ive never ever told
anybody?. I said yes, and then what she whispered to me really blew me away. She
whispered, Whenever I scratch some guy, I get this really cool feeling…like, I cant
describe it, but its kind of like when youre riding a roller coaster. I thought I was
going to faint. I was shaking so much I could hardly talk but I managed to say, You can
scratch me any time you want, and she said, No you dont understand, I meant
scratching really hard, so theres blood, and I said, I know. She had her hands up the
back of my shirt and had been scratching me gently all this time, but she suddenly
stopped and said with shock, You actually want me to scratch you as hard as I can? I
was terrified of how to answer but something made me just blurt out, Yes. Then there
was this horrible silence that felt like forever but was probably half a second, and then
Marcie just kind of shrugged her shoulders and said, "Okay," and she dug all of her
razor-sharp, nearly-pointed fingernails into me full-force just above my shoulderblades,
and without letting up she dragged them all the way down my back." "Oh my God!"
Jeannie cried, "She didnt even hold back a little?" "Not a bit," Peter said.
Jeannie fished a nail file out of her makup bag and got up on the bed. She lay on her
back against Peter and rested her head against his shoulder and began filing her nails.
"So how did it feel, finally?" she asked. "A thousand times more painful than I had ever
imagined," Peter began, "The pain was so sudden and so intense, it was like someone had
sliced me open with a steel rake. Then right away it started to burn like fire, and it
throbbed like a beating drum. Tears gushed down my cheeks. Marcie whispered, Are
you okay? and I couldnt speak, but I nodded my head. Marcie had this wild-eyed look
and she said breathlessly, Wow, that was so cool and she started making out furiously.
Suddenly I realized that the pain had dulled, and I was feeling the same kind of roller-
coaster rush as Marcie. Suddenly she put her hands back up my shirt and clawed me
again…and again, and again. Just then the lookout snapped on the lights and everyone
sat up and assumed innocent positions. They had to repeat the warning for us, Marcie
and I were so intently absorbed. I heard Marcie gasp, and she was looking at her hands.
There was blood under her fingernails, and she leaned back and looked behind me and
gasped again because my t-shirt was stained with blood. She gave me this frightened
look, but as soon as she saw that I wasnt frightened, she relaxed and smiled. As soon as
the all-clear was sounded and the lights went off again, Marcies hands were up inside the
front of my shirt and she raked her fingernails down my chest while we made out. For
the rest of seventh grade and eighth grade, I schemed and plotted to spend every possible
moment I could with Marcie, making out and getting scratched. Sometimes she would
see me getting something from my locker in school and when I was standing facing into
the locker shed come up put her hand around in front of me and under my shirt and
scratch her sharp fingernails down my chest, just to tease me. Sometimes at lunch in the
cafeteria shed sit next to me and when nobody was looking she would reach under the
table and dig her nails as hard as she could into my thigh through my pants, and then after
lunch I would go to the boys bathroom and pull my pants down and see that there were
bleeding half-circles in my skin. Marcies fingernails were really like little knives. We
went on like that all the way through high school. We both turned 18 in our senior year
and we made a pact to have sex on graduation night. While everybody else was getting
drunk and partying, Marcie and I were at a motel. During sex she clawed the living shit
out of me." Jeannie stopped filing her nails for a moment and said, "It would seem like
you two were a match made in heaven. Do you still see each other?"
"No," Peter said, "Marcie went away to college, and we called each other for a while, but
she needed someone for scratching and sex, and so did I, and we couldnt be there for
each other anymore. After high school it was a lot easier to seek out women who would
give me what I craved. Since then Ive been in this hell. But no more." Peter raised his
head off the pillow. "Telling it all to you today has made me determined to change,"
Peter said to Jeannie, "I have to change, to turn things around. The nail thing has to stop.
I want to be the kind of man a normal woman can love. A woman…like you, Jeannie."
Jeannie slid off the bed and without a word, put her nail file and the rest of her makeup
back in her bag. She undid her hair clip and shook her hair free. "Wow," Peter
exclaimed, gazing at the lustrous golden-brown mane that fell halfway down Jeannies
back, "I never saw you with your hair down before. I didnt know it was that long."
Jeannie laughed quietly. "Jeannie?" Peter said, "If…If I turn myself around…would you
ever…I mean, could you ever see yourself….with me?" "You arent going to change,
Peter," she said, "Im very sure of that."
"How can you be so sure?" Peter cried. Jeannie let her silk bathrobe fall off her
shoulders and Peter gaped at her incredible, perfect body, with her long, flowing hair,
and her face made-up. She was stunningly beautiful. "Because, Peter, Im not going to
let you change," she said breathlessly, as she knelt over him on the bed. Jeannie leaned
forward and spread her hands against his chest. Peter looked down, and his eyes
widened. Jeannie had filed her nails almost to points. Slowly she closed her fingers,
digging her freshly-sharpened nails deep into Peters skin, and then she dragged them
forcibly down to his waist. Peter cried out in pain, as his blood pooled in the long, thin
furrows. Jeannie felt behind her, and her hand found his cock, which was already rock-
hard. She raised up on her knees and then impailed herself on his throbbing erection,
slowly grinding and churning herself on him, while she scratched his sides and arms
deeply, again and again, with her sharpened fingernails, until both of them came.
Together, explosively, screaming, with mind-blowing orgasms.
"Its going to get better, I promise," Jeannie whispered in Peters ear, "In a couple
months my nails will be so much longer." "I thought…your job…" Peter panted, gasping
for breath. "Im going to quit on Monday," she said softly. "Why?" Peter asked.
Jeannie laughed softly, and she left slow kisses all around his mouth and then plunged her
tongue inside. Peters head spun from her kiss. She clawed his shoulders with her
sharpened fingernails and felt his cock, which was still inside her, instantly harden.
"Because," she said as she rose up and began churning herself toward another climax.
"Now that Ill be moving in with you, well be doing this all night, every night," Jeannie
said. She leaned forward and deep-kissed him again, slowly scratched her razor-
sharpened fingernails down both sides of his face, and as he cried out she half-whispered,
"Youre going to need a full-time nurse."
-
NW
Carly
25-2-2008
Carly came back from vacation. She is a European beauty. She has long, curly strawberry blonde hair, and the most amazing blue eyes. She came back with long fingernails. Disappointingly fake, but at least they were sort of long. They were 1 cm long, and squarish, very rounded at the edges of the square. The tips were green, however the internails were clear, and every one of her nails had a black shadow of a bird on them. I was sooo glad to see her back. She is tall, muscular and she has the most amazingly huge breasts. She goes to the gym, and is extremely fit. Her soft, white skin is flawless. She always wears high heels, which makes her look even taller. Not only this, she is extroverted, and she talks loud. she is smart, and so very funny. She is a dream girl. She also loves to flaunt herself. To me, she seemed to have picked up that I love her nails.
the morning that we were on the lift, she made sure that she pressed the button with her nails only, and then talked to me casually, and then started tapping her nails on the wall. REALLY tapping them. She knew I would look, and she did it again, until we entered the lift.
When we were coming back downstairs, she had a donut with her, and sure enough we got into a conversation about the donut. She wanted to find out what was in the donut, and she stuck her nail on the donut (where they had popped in the filling, and then she pushed her nail almost all the way in. Carly held the filling up to me (it was at the tip of her nail), so that she could show it to me (whether it was the filling or her nails, I couldn't tell, but I think I knew what I was looking at!) and then popped the nail in her mouth. Certain bodily functions were happening, and I hope that she didn't notice
25-2-2008
Carly was down at the front today, and I didn't realise she was there until she came up to me. I couldn't believe that she did that. I am hoping that she likes me. She was eating grapes. We started talking, but the first thing she did, was bit a grape, and then dig her nail into the flesh, to fish out the seeds. She showed me the seeds on the tip of her nails, with some grape flesh. I was aghast and shocked, but she kept talking as if nothing was the matter, and I talked to her as if nothing was happening. I couldn't believe she did that. her nails were amazing. I wanted to see her impale a grape on each of her nails, and watch her eat them. Gosh, she is beautiful and amazing. Unfortunatley, she has a boyfriend that she is living with, and their relationship is starting to get to a stage where they may get married soon. Oh, well.
We had a meeting today, and Carly was loud and voicing her opinion, as is expected of a strong woman. She tapped her nails, continuously on the table. When she tapped, she REALLY taps them (I thought she would start chipping away the plastic table top). Of course, they don't break, but does it heat up a nail crazed whacko like me.
28-2-08
Carly was sitting right next to Jayne in the morning when I came in. It was wonderful seeing 2 nailed vixens so close together. I was admiring Carly's nail polish, and certain other parts of her body (I had a really nice view). The patterns on her nails are not birds, they're more like plants. It's amazing watching her gesture with her hands, as her nails cut a swath through the air. It was awesome.
Carly handed out our work, and when she came to the desk opposite me, I smiled at her. She glanced at me and handed a folder to another collegue, but she made a point of scraping her nails on top of the cupboard. The sound just wanted me to ask her to do it again, but of course, everyone around me would have thought I was a freak.
She came around and talked to another collegue regarding his work, and of course, I listened in for more instruction. I was watching her fidget with her metal crucifix, at one stage I thought she was trying to cut it in half with her thumbnail. It was a good thing that that stopped.
Carly went around the printer, and she grappled me with her arm, and I mockingly pretended to choke. It was nice having her arm around me, I must admit, even if it was on my throat. What a strong woman!
Jayne
7-1-2008
I first saw Jayne on this date. Jayne had blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes, and she had a petite stature. Her nails were hypnotic to me. It was not so much the length of her nails that really caught my attention, but the fact that they were so beautifully cared for and was squared off. They were almost 1 cm long, not very long by my standards, but they were polished a dull grey.
Jayne was due to be married in the next 20 days, which was great for her. I was constantly trying to get a view of her nails, and what made it more exciting was that she seem to be responding, whether conciously or subconciously to the attention. She fiddled with her nails constantly - whether cleaning them, flicking them, and at one stage, trying to get the polish off. I couldn't stop looking at them.
I couldn't stand it much longer, and in the end I managed to say what nice fingernails she had. She took it at face value - she said "thanks". I told her I didn't know how she could type with those nails, and she just laughed. I was sweating like a dog
8-1-2008
Jayne had taken the polish off, and had trimmed her nails back, to my disappointment. they were only about half a cm long now. But, she fiddled with her nails so incesantly. She was cleaning them, flicking them, and I saw her feeling the shape of her nails with her finger. It was really nice to see her nails without any polish. They made the most wonderful noise when she typed.
9-1-2008
Jayne still had her polish off. It was amazing just hearing her nails tap on the computer keyboard, but she has no idea what power her nails had. They just looked so strong. I tried every opportunity to talk to her, but we had training, and I was passing on some of the work to her.
I took every opportunity to glance at her nails, which were still perfectly squared off.
10-1-2008
Jayne's nails were the same, half a cm and unpolished. It is amazing how such a LNB could grow such nice fingernails, but I don't think that she would be able to grow her nails anymore. It would be nice if she did. It's nice just seeing her cleaning her nails.
11-1-2008
the last day of the week. I was disappointed that Jayne left early. It was hypnotic just hearing her type away at her keyboard. I look forward to seeing her again next time.
24-1-2008
I saw Jayne again today. Her nails were painted a clear polish, they were very shiny. We were having a discussion about something and, then, to make a point, she started to point her index nail on a cabinet, and then started to scrape it on the surface. I doubt she even realised how much pressure she put on her nails, but it was enough to make her nails crackle, but her nails didn't even come close to breaking. So strong.
We had an awards ceremony then, and there were a lot of people. I was standing near Jayne, and she kept scooping the popcorn. I think a lot of people ate lots. But I was staring at her nails, they were so smooth underneath, and several times she looked at her nails to see if there was anything underneath, and then she would clean them. The sound her nails make was so hypnotic, They just sounded so strong. I don't think she realised how she was cutting some of the pop corn with her nails. So sharp.
We also went to training today, and one of the things Jayne did was just to look at her nails and clean them. She was cleaning them vigorously, as the training was just dragging on. They were so beautiful, just squared off, despite the fact they were a little short, (about 0.5 cm from her fingertips). Her nails looked very strong, and I liked especially when she was proving a point, and she was using her hands to illustrate. When I saw underneath them when her fingers were together, it was just an amazing sight. Her hands were very soft, but her nails were just the opposite - healthy, strong, and very sharp
4-2-08
when I came back to work today, I saw Jayne coming out. She had forgotten her pass, and was glad to see me, to let her back in. Instantly I shot a glance at her nails. They were well manicured, she had just come back from vacation. Her nails were still squared off, but were painted white, but it was clear enough that I could see under the polish. They looked so beautiful. I talked to her for a minute but then the first thing she did was hold out her index nail to me, and clean it up. The flicking sound they made as her nails rubbed together made me feel so nice... they sounded so strong. I let her in anyway, but I shot glances at her nails.
in the office she was talking to a few other people, and she was facing so that I was on her side. She put her hands on her cheeks, and I saw those beautiful 1/2 cm long fingernails on her cheeks. I stared at them for a few minutes until she stopped talking. wow
it is so nice with Jayne sitting so close. although I can't see her typing, I could hear the sound of her nails as they typed away on the keyboard. The clicking almost drives me crazy!!
5-2-08
I didn't get a chance to see Jayne and her nails. She had to leave early, but in the time she was there, she clicked away at her keyboard. nice sound.
7-2-08
It is the best thing to see a girl pointing her nails at something, especially close up. Jayne asked a lot of questions regarding the work she was doing. Her nails were so wonderful, especially when she was pointing and tapping them on the computer screen. She tapped them quite hard, changing the colour of her internail, but it was amazing how much pressure she could put on her nails. Her nails were so strong they didn't even bend under the strain she was putting on them. Gosh they were so square.
11-2-08
Today we had a meeting, and Jayne was cleaning her nails. There were times when she was looking under her nails, and she held them up for a few moments before she used her other nails to clean them. It is amazing how square she had made them. She didn't really round them off at the edges. Her nails looked so beautiful. Just like her
12-2-08
I was so fortunate to be able to move close to Jayne today. It is absolutely amazing hearing her nails tapping away at the keyboard. I was about to ask her if she had broken a nail yet, just to start a conversation with her. At one time she was tapping so hard, I could hear her nail being absolutely pressured, and yet, they were strong enough to withstand what she was doing. How amazing her nails are
13-2-08
Jayne continued tapping away at her keyboard. I don't know how long I could stop myself from talking to her - innocently at first - about her nails. I hope she tells me how strong her nails are
14-2-08
One of the definitions of strength is the way something resists pressure applied to it.. Jayne's nails are amazing like that. Not only do they resist the pressure she applies when she bangs her nails on the keyboard for so many hours in a day without breaking, but they do something more. Just before she left today, she slammed her hand on her desk, whether in frustration or otherwise, but she banged her nails on the desk. I was aghast and thought that the way she slammed her nails, she would have broken at least one. Instead, unconcerned, Jayne kept trying to shut down her PC. I seemed more concerned about her nails than she was. I glanced repeatedly on her nails. I think Jayne knew that her nails were strong enough to withstand violent bangings and tappings on her desk. She just picked up her bag and left. There was no visible breaks or anything on her super strong fingernails. What incredible strength her nails have
19-2-08
We had all day training today at a big room on the top floor. I must say that the view is so nice. Not the view at the top, but the view of Jayne's nails. I couldn't see them very well, as she was sitting so far away from me. I noticed how white her nails were, and I really thought that she had a French manicure. When I managed to look closer, though, I noticed that she didn't. Her nails were painted clear. Wow. The square shape is starting to drive me crazy!.
Every now and then I would her nails scraping on skin, and I would look, and Jayne was scratching the back of her neck. Sometimes I thought that she would leave her nails there, just for me to be able to steal a glance at them. I noticed too, that every now and then she would glance at me, especially when I was talking. I wonder if my staring at her nails is subconciously getting her to display her nails for me to admire? I hope so
20-2-08
Jayne had an ordinary day today. She would work away, oblivious that her nails had such power over nail crazed whackos like me. The sound of her typing was so nice, it is starting to distract me from my work. I kept stealing glances at her half cm fingernails. She seemed to fidget with them quite a lot. I think she conciously likes to look after her nails. So square! so strong! and they look so sharp. I wish that she would do something with them, like tear something apart, but I think that she would be more concious of keeping them long. Very nice. I hope that she grows them out, but I don't think so. I wonder how long her nails were when she was at school. I hope long but strong!
21-2-08
It is so very nice when a girl with long, beautiful fingernails typed on a keyboard. A Nail crazed whacko like me would think about how much pressure is applied to her nail, and how strong they must be to be able to withstand such pressure. Jayne's nails typed away all day, without breaking under the pressure Jayne exerted on them. So strong.
We had another meeting, and I was stealing glances at Jayne's nails. I noted how strong the square shape made them look. It was phenomenal. She would clean them, and whether conciously or not, I'm not sure if she is doing the cleaning for me to be able to admire them. She only seems to do it when I am looking at her nails. I hope she doesn't know that her nails really drive me crazy. They looked so white. I've heard that the whiter the nail, the stronger they are. Well, if that's true, then Jayne's must be bullet proof.
22-2-08
Janes nails were still manicured clear today. The way she just typed with her nails were really hypnotic, it was starting to distract me from work. Just because I was sitting near her, I became part of the conversation whenever there was one involving her, and I don't think she thought anything of it, which was good for me. It gave me a chance to get close enough to steal a really good glance at her nails without her thinking I was a freak.
at one stage of the conversation, I got so close, as in 2 feet away from her nails. I just admired how healthy and strong Jayne's nails looked, which really made her so much more feminine and beautiful. They were so square, and I was so close, I could see that she ever so slightly rounded off the edges, but I thought it was still sharp enough to puncture through apples.
At the end of the day, I stayed back to see someone, and I got into a conversation with another lady about how distracting long fingernails were. I couldn't believe I would be able to talk about fingernails with anybody, but I don't think this lady suspected anything, and she had no nails, and in fact told me how impossible it was for her to grow them. We talked about how distracting it was when girls with long nails type on the keyboard, and I told her about Jayne's nails, and how "distracting" it was for me. I so wanted to tell her how strong I thought Jayne's nails were, and how I wanted Jayne to tear something apart with her nails, but decided against it, as the lady would have thought I was a freak. It was a good conversation, though, we talked about nails for a good 5-10 minutes.
25-2-08
The first thing I noticed about Jayne this morning, apart from her beautiful smile, was that her nails were painted a dull pink. I loved it. I felt as if her nails were stronger still now that they have this sort of polish on them.
She was typing, and I was just itching to say something to her about her nails. Maybe tomorrow. Every time she stood up and was talking to someone else, I would somehow be dragged into the conversation and I would look at her nails. Gosh, they were so square!! It was really amazing so close to nails like Jayne's. It is hypnotic just watching her explain something, and she would gesture with her hands, and you could see under her nails. So beautiful, and healthy.
There was a time when she had to lean on my cupboard to talk to someone over the dividers of the office. She glanced at me a couple of times, as I was again "dragged" into the conversation. I managed a few looks into her dull pink fingernails. They were beautiful, and slightly curved. They were getting a little bit longer now, about 0.6 cm in length. she must really take care of them, as they don't lose their shape. Maybe tomorrow I would say something about her nails.
26-2-08
I couldn't believe I had the gall to ask her about her nails. The day started ordinarily enough. I went to my desk as usual, and the hypnotic sound of her nails typing on the keyboard filled the air. I doubt anyone else noticed but me. It was so distracting that I couldn't work properly. I was getting cups of hot chocolate just to give me the chance to comment on her nails. I couldn't believe it. The opportunity finally came when we talked about her work. But I don't think that I did it right. I asked "have you broken a nail yet?" Jayne said "not yet" in a teasing kind of way. I wished she had told me how strong her nails were, but I'm hoping later, she might do.
We went in a team meeting later on that day. I noticed most was Jayne's nails as she sat with her arms crossed. It was amazing. I stole glances at her nails as she was sitting opposite me. Her nails looked amazingly thick and strong. She took a can of coke with her. I was watching her as she finished the can, and just because she was bored, she lined up her nails on the side of the can. I gasped. Was she going to dig her nails and puncture the can of coke? It looked like she was thinking about it, but then she looked under her nails and crossed her arms again. I don't think she wanted to let anyone know that she digs her nails into cans of coke in her spare time (haha I wish)
28-2-08
This morning when I came in, there was a big discussion in the room. Jayne was sitting next to Carly, which was awesome. 2 beautiful ladies with nails. I was sitting so close to Jayne I could almost touch her nails. It was so good too, because for about half of the discussion she seemed more interested in cleaning and studying her nails than participating in the conversation. Just the way she applied pressure on her nails, and the fact that they hardly bent at all seemed to confirm to me how strong they were. They were perfectly square, but I noticed that on her left middle finger, the pink polish was flaking off. Jayne has this habit of trying to scratch off the nail polish a few days after she puts them on. I was starting to see the white tip of her nail.
Her typing was awesomely hypnotic. Jayne seemed to be enjoying typing harder on her nails, as evidenced by the louder clicking her nails did on her keyboard.
One of the nice things that I get to do is that I get to answer some of Jayne's questions, and whenever she asks, I make it a habit to come as near as possible without invading her space. This way I can steal glances at her nails. In this instance it is beautiful how square her nails are, when seen from underneath, and the dull pink polish highlighted their beauty, and Jayne's
Jayne stayed back a little bit at the end, and I was thinking of what to say about her nails, that won't arouse her suspicion that I was a nail freak, but I decided against talking. Oh, well, next time then.
-
On The Road
On The Road by R. Starkweather
Are you shitting me?! Derek shouted. His sales manager at a large RV dealership was
on the phone on a Sunday. Hey, dont blame me, the manager shouted back, When
some rich dudes paying 1.5 million for an RV, he wants it delivered to his door. His
fucking door is almost all the way cross-country! Derek shouted, Fuck! Itll take me
four days driving that fucking monster all by myself. The manager said, Suck it up,
Derek. You leave in the morning. Oh, and it better arrive without a scratch, because any
damage comes out of your salary.
Derek arrived at the dealership Monday morning with a small bag, and picked up the
corporate gas card and a one way return air ticket from the office. He climbed into the
enormous, opulent motorhome. It was hardly an RV, more like a yacht on wheels. Plush
carpeting, rich mahogany, and fine leather that filled the air with aroma. It had a large
shower/bathroom, and a master bedroom in the rear with a king-size bed and 50-inch
plasma TV with a satellite dish that rose from the roof electrically. It also had a full
kitchen and bar, and a killer sound system. True luxury at its finest. Derek buckled
himself into the large leather captains chair, adjusted the 12-way comfort controls, and
fired up the giant Cummins diesel, which became almost inaudible as soon as Derek hit
the button that closed the pneumatic door. It was deadly silent in fact. Derek connected
his iPOD to the sound system via Bluetooth. At least he would be surrounded by his
favorite music for the five days of piloting the behemoth RV cross-country. The bad part
was that his girlfriend couldnt take off work and come with him. He wouldve loved to
spend the nights screwing her in that king bed, the new owner being none the wiser.
Derek was sullen and dejected, but his girlfriend promised to get fake nails for the
weekend he got back. She knew Derek was crazy over long nails, but her job didnt
permit them, so once a month she would get fakes on Friday after work, and keep them
until Monday morning. Derek really loved her personality and the fact she wanted so
much to please him, so he figured fake nails were better than nothing, and trained himself
to pretend they were real, so they would turn him on. Hey! the manager pounded on
the door, By the way, dont smoke in it! Great, Derek thought, now hell have to find
a rest stop every time he craved a cigarette.
Derek discovered that he could get adult channels on the dish, so he watched some porno
at night. Stopping in truckstops he saw a couple of halfway-pretty waitresses with kind-
of-long nails, and he spent a few moments on the king bed thinking about them and
jacking off, before driving away. But otherwise, the trip was uneventful, at least for the
first two days and nights. It was on the third day, somewhere in Colorado, that Derek
was standing with his back against the motorhome with his eyes closed, enjoying a
smoke, when he heard a tiny voice say, Excuse me.
Derek opened his eyes. A young woman was standing in front of him. She looked in her
late teens or early twenties, not more than around five-three and probably a hundred
pounds at most. She was wearing a Grateful Dead tank-top, shorts, and Birkenstock
sandals with thick socks. Her tangled tied-back mane of chestnut-brown hair was
naturally sun-streaked. Over her shoulder was a tattered army-surplus backpack. Can I
bum a smoke? she asked. Uh, sure, I guess so, Derek answered, weary from the long
hours driving the huge RV. She smiled. She had big brown eyes. Sparkling, penetrating,
sexy eyes. He shook a cigarette up from his pack, and he watched her take it. Derek felt
a hot flash. The girl had long fingernails! Extraordinarily long, in fact. An inch, give or
take, Derek estimated. They were a little raggedy and dirty, but they were real. And she
was kind of cute. Dereks dick started to stir. He offered her a light, and she accepted.
There was a slight breeze, and she cupped her hands around his to keep the flame from
buffetting. It was a moment to savor. Derek felt her fingers on his hand. Soft and warm.
She didnt mean to touch him with her nails, but they were so long she couldnt help it. It
was only a whisper-light stroke, but it left faint white lines on his skin. Sorry, she said
quickly, and she took a long, deep drag on the cigarette. Derek wasnt sorry.
Looks like you really needed that smoke, Derek said. The girl smiled. Here. Take
the rest of the pack. Ive got a whole carton, he said. Wow! Thanks! she said, taking
the pack from him. Im Derek, he said, offering her his hand. Hi Derek, she said,
accepting, Im Summer. Summer? Pretty name, he said. She smiled and took
another drag. Thats an awesome motorhome, she said, Are you a rock star or
something? More like a delivery boy. Bringing it to the new owner. Damn! I
shouldve pretended to be a rock star to impress you, Derek said, slapping his forehead.
Summer laughed. I bet its awesome inside, she said. Its incredible! Derek
enthused, Let me show you. Summer took a step backward and seemed uneasy. Oh!
God! Im sorry! Didnt mean to scare you. Im just so accustomed to being an RV
salesman. Sure, I understand. Strange guy, middle of nowhere, invites pretty girl into his
motorhome. Reminds you of a horror movie, right? Derek laughed. Naw. You dont
look like a psycho. Actually Id majorly like to see the inside, Summer said. Derek
pushed the remote on the keychain and the door opened slowly with a whoosh.
Awesome! Summer said. Derek motioned her ahead of him, and she went up the steps.
Holy fucking shit! she proclaimed when she took in the luxurious, expansive interior
surroundings, Now this is the way to travel! I suppose, Derek said, Maybe for a
rock band. Or a family. Even a couple. It kinda sucks for one person. Really lonely.
Ill trade you my company in return for a ride, Summer said with a shy smile. Derek
seemed hesitant. After all, she was a complete stranger, a woman, and he was driving
someone elses 1.5-million-dollar motorhome. Summer sensed his hesitation and she
said, Its ok. Nevermind, touching his arm. Again, unavoidably, her long nails
scratched him lightly. No. I mean, yes. OK. Sure, Ill give you a lift, Derek said, still
reeling from the brief sensation of her long fingernails. Summer smiled, Are you sure?
Thanks. How far are you going? he asked. As far as you want to take me, she
answered, setting her heavy old backpack on the plush carpeted floor, and she sat herself
down in the passengers chair.
Fucking shit! This seat is so comfortable! Summer said. Those buttons on the right
are the controls. You can put it in almost any position. It even reclines. Go ahead,
Derek said while he started the engine and put it in gear. Summer reclined the seat back
a little, and she put her feet up on the dash. Uh, its ok if you put your feet up, but
please take your shoes off, ok? Derek said. Oh, sure. Sorry, Summer said, kicking off
her Birkenstocks. She put her feet with hiking socks back up. Sorry if my feet smell,
she said. Derek breathed in through his nose. The air was scented not only from her feet,
but her perspiration too. Derek hoped the RV would air out before he had to drop it off.
His thought of his girlfriend, who was obsessed with her personal hygiene. She was
always asking him if she smelled. And she never would have sex without first taking a
shower and spraying her private parts with deodorant. So he was intrigued that
Summers odors were getting him hard. Could also be that it had to do with knowing
how long her fingernails were.
Summer leaned back and crossed her arms behind her head. The only problem with
these chairs is they can put you to sleep, Derek said. I better stay awake and keep an
eye on you, she said. Derek laughed, and glanced quickly in her direction. With her
arms up, Derek noticed the tuft of dark hair in her armpits. Her legs also were a little
hairy. As with her smell, it surprised Derek that those things were making him horny.
Summer peeled off her hiking socks and propped her bare feet back up on the dash,
which caught Dereks attention out the corner of his eye. From several feet across the
wide motorhome, he could see the length of her toenails! A good quarter-inch Derek
figured. Hed seen long toenails on guys, and even once on an old woman, and itd
almost made him puke. But on Summers small, young feet, and even though there was
some dirt under her long toenails, they made Derek get hard. Summer stretched a leg
over toward Derek, but came about six inches short of being able to touch his leg with her
toes. You say couples buy these motorhomes? she asked. Yeah. Retired couples,
mostly, Derek answered. Ah. Ok, she said, I mean, what young couple would want
to drive something where they couldnt touch each other? Derek nodded and smiled in
agreement. What he wouldnt have given for her to rest her foot on his leg, and him to
rest his hand on her foot. To get up-close-and-personal with her long toenails.
Derek pulled into a shady rest stop and took some sandwich fixings out of the
refrigerator. Summer took a squashed candy bar and a small bag of potato chips from her
battered backpack. Ive got plenty of good food, Derek said. Oh, I couldnt,
Summer said. Derek ignored her and handed her a sandwich. She said a quiet thank-you,
and she took it. Derek watched her fingernails press into the soft bread while Summer
ate ravenously. She obviously hadnt eaten much in a while. After she finished, Summer
put a cigarette between her lips. Oh, hey, my boss warned me not to smoke inside,
Derek said. He opened the door and they stepped outside, but suddenly it began to
downpour and they jumped back inside. Shit, Derek said. Summer opened a window
and she climbed up and sat on the kitchen counter. She lit her cigarette and took a drag
and put her lips up to the screen and blew the smoke outside. Cmere, she said, pulling
Derek by his arm. Again he felt her sharp nails and his dick responded. Summer put her
cigarette to Dereks lips and he took a drag, and he leaned forward and blew smoke
through the screen as she had done. Their faces were very close to each other. She
smiled. He smiled back. She rested her hand on his shoulder. Again he felt the press of
her nails. He felt her heat, so close to him, and inhaled the musty aroma of her sweat. He
was full-on erect by now. She put the cigarette out in the sink, and as she turned, her
mouth came very close to his. So close he could taste her smoky breath. When Derek
helped Summer off the counter, she held his arms. More pressing of nails, and they
trailed along his skin when she let go of him, slowly. Their eyes met. She had such sexy
brown eyes.
So whats your story? Derek asked Summer when they were back on the road. Every
days a new story, she said. So you just kind of backpack around the country? Derek
asked. Pretty much, she said. Dont you ever miss home? he asked. I dunno. I
never really had one, she said. Family? he asked. Not really, she said.
Boyfriend? he asked. Not really, she said. Dont you ever get lonely? he asked.
She didnt respond. Dont you want to know about me? Derek asked. Not really,
Summer said. Derek was silent again. Summer idly scratched at the wood dash with her
long toenails, and it left little marks in the wax. Derek swallowed hard. Hed have to re-
polish it so the owner wouldnt see, but fuck it, the sight and sound of her nails scraping
the wood was one of the sexiest things hed ever experienced. Summer folded her legs
under her and leaned forward, and she unfastened her hair-tie and shook her hair loose.
She combed her fingers through the tangles. Derek caught a glance sideways. Her hair
practically covered her upper body, down to her waist. He was surprised, it hadnt
looked to be that long. It had been years since he last saw a young adult woman with hair
that long and wild. It too was very sexy. Even more with her long, natural fingernails
combing through it. Summer felt him looking at her. She fluffed her long, wild hair, and
spread her fingers and toes tipped with long, untended nails. Passing her long-nailed
fingers over the light growth of hair on her legs she declared, Im into letting everything
go and grow as nature intended. Do I disgust you? Derek reeled at the question. He
wanted to reassure her that he was anything but disgusted by her, but by the same token,
he didnt want to reveal his fetish to her. Selling RVs was childs play compared to
finessing this situation. He figured since she was direct and of few words, that was the
best way to respond. He said, No you dont disgust me. Right now Im past intrigued
and on my way to fascinated. Can you stop at the next turnout? she asked. Wait!
Im sorry! I know that sounded like I was hitting on you. Derek said quickly, mentally
kicking himself for overplaying his hand. I just need to have a cigarette is all, she said.
Derek pulled the huge motorhome into the rest stop, and they both got out. Summer
walked to a large shade tree and Derek followed her. She sat down and leaned back
against the trunk and lit her cigarette. Derek sat down at an acceptable distance around
the tree, and lit up. Were you? she asked. Was I what? Derek asked. Hitting on
me, she said. Dereks mind raced to find the right response. He should have said How
would it make you feel if I was? Instead he blurted out, I have a girlfriend back home.
Summer leaned around the tree and grasped his arm gently. The slight pinch of her sharp
nails brought his eyes in direct contact with hers, so big and brown and sexy. That
doesnt answer my question, she said. She wasnt going to accept anything less than
complete honesty. I…Maybe…Im not sure, Derek said. It was lame, but honest.
Summer let go of his arm, letting her nails trail slowly against his skin. She took a long
drag off her cigarette and snuffed it out in the dirt. Let me know when you figure it
out, she said as she got up. Derek watched her walk for a couple moments before he
followed her. She had a tight little ass. Narrow waist. Fine pair of legs, hair and all.
They didnt say much during the next couple of hours of driving. Not that theyd said all
that much before. Summer turned away from Derek, curled up in her seat, watching the
scenery. Theyd left the plains behind and were getting into rolling hills, heading toward
the Rockies. The soles of her small feet were filthy, but not calloused. She flexed her
toes every so often, and he could see her toenails poking out from her toes. Once, he
heard a clicking sound and glanced toward her, and she was cleaning under her toenails
with her fingernails. Then she cleaned under all her fingernails with other fingernails.
Derek stared ahead but his eyes darted quickly to Summer and back. He didnt want to
miss a moment of her. Arent you getting hungry? she asked without looking at him.
Had she known all along he was watching her? This thing is a bitch to drive at night,
Derek said, If theres something stopped in the road, by the time its in the headlights
theres no way to stop in time not to hit it. So Im going to stop for the night at the next
RV park, which according to the GPS Navigation should be in about a half hour. If
youre really starving, just help yourself to something in the fridge. I can wait if you
can, she said quietly.
Derek pulled the giant motorhome into a drive-through site, and he opened the door.
Summer slipped into her Birkenstocks and bounded outside, lit a cigarette while Derek
hooked the RV up to water and electric. He ushered her back inside and unfolded the
dinette. There was a bucket of KFC which Derek heated in the microwave, meanwhile
Summer poked through cupboards. Paper plates and napkins are above you, on the
right, he said. She reached, and her tanktop rode up. She had a tiny waist and a flat
stomach. And a flowery tattoo in the small of her back. She was standing on tiptoes, her
dirty soles revealed to him, her calf muscles tightened, and Derek felt his dick come
alive. The microwave bell rang, and Derek turned to retrieve the KFC. Whoa!
Awesome! Summer said. He turned quickly. She was holding a bottle of champagne.
Thats for the new owner! he cried, just a millisecond too late. He watched her long
thumbnail slice the foil, and she peeled it off. Oh. Im really sorry. I wasnt thinking,
she apologized, I hope I didnt just get you fired or something. Nah. Ill just get
another bottle when I spot a liquor store, he said. Cool, she said, untwisting the wire.
Summer put the bottle between her knees and worked the stopper off. It came off with a
loud pop and shot up to the ceiling, and champagne began spouting from the bottle. She
quickly put her mouth over the neck and upended the bottle, but there was already a small
wet spot on the plush carpeting. Derek looked with dismay. Summer took several big
swallows and handed the bottle to Derek while she wiped her mouth with her arm.
You really were hungry! Derek remarked. Summer looked up with just her eyes, but
they were smiling. She continued to tear the chicken from the bones with her teeth, and
devour it ravenously and noisily, smacking her lips and licking her fingers. Her hands
were shiny with grease, and there was sauce under her long nails. She took a swig of
champagne, swished it around like mouthwash and swallowed it, then she burped. Derek
didnt understand why on earth she turned him on so much…well, aside from her
nails…but she did. Summer got up rubbing her flat little belly. She walked toward the
back of the motorhome and pointed at a narrow door. Is this the bathroom? she asked
as she opened the door. Derek jumped to his feet and opened his mouth but before he
could speak she said, I really gotta take a shit, and closed the door behind her. Hed
been using public restrooms, so he wouldnt have to flush out the holding tank. Oh well.
Ill be outside, he called to her. Ok, she answered.
It was pitch-black outside. Before her eyes adjusted to the dark, all Summer could see
was the glowing end of Dereks cigarette. She lit one and took a long drag. Its cold up
here in the mountains at night, he said, seeing she was wearing only her tanktop and
shorts. Ill be ok, she said. They went for a little walk. Summer leaned her head back
and spun around. Look at all the stars, she said. Derek looked up. Wow! You never
see that in the city, he said. Summer wrapped her arms around herself. Here, Derek
said, removing his jacket. You dont have to do that, she said, but she took his jacket
and put it around her. She walked close to him, occasionally her hand bumped his. He
thought about trying to hold her hand, maybe feel her nails touch him. Just as he made
up his mind to do it, she distanced herself, and it wouldve been awkward. Derek cursed
himself silently for missing the opportunity. They had one last cigarette and then
returned to the motorhome.
This couch makes into a bed, Derek said, unfolding and latching the seats with the ease
of someone whod demonstrated it hundreds of times. He pulled a blanket from a storage
compartment beneath one seat and spread it over the bed. Thanks, Summer said very
quietly. Thanks again for everything, she said, kneeling on the bed. She touched his
arm, and Derek took one last look at her long fingernails before walking back to the
master bedroom. Derek closed the sliding bedroom doors and got undressed. He sat
back in the king bed against propped-up pillows and turned on the plasma TV. He heard
the soft whir of the satellite dish rising from the rooftop, and the pixellated picture
cleared. He channel-surfed a bit, but eventually went to the adult channel that was his
intention from the start. Somehow though, it wasnt exciting tonight. Not with Summer
and her nails a few feet away. Derek muted the TV and turned his thoughts to his
girlfriend. But as much as he willed against it, they kept returning to Summer.
There was a little tap and the door opened. Youre not sleeping yet, are you? Summer
said, entering. God! She was completely nude! Beautiful, full, firm tits, Derek noticed in
the second before he turned his head. Dont be embarrassed by my nudity. Im not,
Summer said. Derek hesitantly faced her. She cupped her tits with her hands. Two sexy
tits surrounded by ten sexy long, real fingernails, and all of it framed by locks of
chestnut-brown hair with sunstreaked highlights. Her huge brown eyes silently drew him
in, toward her pink lips that she slowly wet with the tip of her tongue. The flickering of
the muted TV caught her attention and she turned and looked. Summer smiled. Can I
watch with you? she asked. Without waiting for an answer she crawled onto the bed.
On her hands and knees she faced her tight, smooth little ass up to him for several
seconds, then she turned slowly and lay down on her back. Silently they watched the
porno for a few minutes. Summer turned on her side toward Derek. He felt her looking
at him. She slid one foot up along her opposite leg until her knee was bent. The pungent
smell of pussy filled the small room. Dereks erection tented the covers, and he thought
about how ridiculous it was that his girlfriend masked that alluring aroma with some
strawberry-scented spray. He turned on his side and brushed Summers long, tangled
hair back from her face. Her long fingernails poked him when she took his hand to her
mouth and sucked his thumb. Derek moved toward her, turning his head to kiss her.
Instead of kiss him, she took his lower lip between her teeth and tugged him along,
forcing him to quickly crawl out from under the covers while she rolled on her back and
bent her knees up, spreading them wide apart. Im way past foreplay, she said.
Summer wrapped her arms around Derek and he felt her fingernails press into his back as
she pulled him to her. His dick was hard as a rock, so hard it hurt. His cock slipped
easily into her wet, glistening pussy. She let out a little scream and she dug her long
fingernails into his back and scratched him fast and hard. Derek grimaced and flinched
from the pain. Her pussy was burning hot, very tight yet very slippery. Derek began
gently moving in and out. Summer raised her hips and wrapped her legs around Derek,
clawed her long toenails into his asscheeks. Harder! she groaned urgently. Derek
fucked her with more force. Summer sighed. Harder, she cried out loud. He
complied. She slipped her hands in-between them and raked his chest quickly with her
sharp nails. Having a long-nailed girl go wild and scratch him during sex had been
Dereks fantasy for as long as he could remember, but he never realized how painful it
would be in reality. Summer got a new grip on him with her legs, gouging her toenails
into his hips, and she grabbed handfuls of his asscheeks with her fingernails, thrusting
herself against him with all her might.
Summer was lost in taking her own pleasure, completely uninhibited, oblivious to his
pain and unconcerned for his enjoyment. She snarled and screamed and clawed and bit
and bucked like an animal. Derek had always believed the best sex must be with a
woman who did everything in her power to please her man, but Summers wild, selfish,
uncontrolled passion made him feel like more of a man and had him more turned on than
anyone hed ever been with before. Faster! she screamed, raking his back deep and
hard with her long, sharp fingernails, Fuck me faster! Derek pounded her as hard and
fast as he could, and Summer met his thrusts with her own pumping hips. Derek didnt
know how long he could last at that pace. But Summer didnt need or want slow
lovemaking. She wanted fast, furious, animalistic sex. It was over in a couple minutes.
They lay there bathed in sweat, heaving for breath, Derek still on top of Summer, his
cock still inside her. He couldnt move a muscle. Never had he been so exhausted, so
thoroughly spent. Or so completely satisfied. He smiled at her, and started to pull his
now-semi-limp cock out of her. Summer smiled and Derek felt her contract her pussy
around his dick. She caressed his sore back with her long fingernails, in slow, gentle
circles. She made long, slow, gentle strokes with her long toenails up and down the sides
of his legs. They both felt his dick begin to grow inside her. You like my claws, dont
you, she said softly. His dick jumped, and her pussy responded with a strong
contraction. Summer took his face softly in her hands, pressing her nails lightly into him,
pulling him toward her waiting mouth. Her kiss started tenderly, then became more and
more aggressive. Derek was rock-hard again inside her. Fuck me, she snarled. Her
tongue licked and lapped inside his mouth, and she sucked his tongue with all her might.
She sank her teeth into his shoulder, buried her toenails and fingernails deep into his flesh
and scratched him slow and hard. Derek screamed. It was a cry of pain, and ecstasy.
They came together, again. Derek rolled on his back, hardly able to breathe. Summer
impaled herself on his dick and slowly took the last moments of her pleasure from his
subsiding erection. She laid on top of him, his now-limp dick still inside her. Derek felt
rivers of her sweat trickling down his sides. Her breathing slowed and deepened, and he
realized she was asleep. He held her. She was so small and soft now, so sweet and calm.
Like a sleeping kitten. Only a moment ago shed been a wild, clawing, biting tigress.
Derek closed his eyes and fell asleep. Some time later he half opened his eyes. Summer
was sitting on him, riding his cock. Fucking him in his sleep! Youre not mad at me for
waking you up? she asked very facetiously. Derek groaned, Youre incredible!
Summer smiled for a second, then she closed her eyes and rolled her head around. She
dug her fingernails into his chest muscles with all her might. Derek inhaled loudly. A
deep, ragged, painful breath. And he came. With her. Summer fell against him,
sweating and panting. She smiled. She whispered, Yeah, you really like my claws.
She laid her head against his shoulder, still keeping his cock inside her. One time I read
somewhere that guys get erections about every forty minutes when theyre sleeping, she
said softly, giving his limp dick a little squeeze with her pussy. She looked at Dereks
gold Rolex watch, which said twenty after two. Catch you at three, she whispered, and
closed her eyes. Then until dawn they slept and fucked, slept and fucked. In his life,
Dereks fantasies never came close to the reality of Summer. He hated to fall back asleep
after each time they fucked, fearing hed wake up and find shed been just a dream.
In the light of day, Derek awoke to the sound of water running. He sat up in bed. He
burned and throbbed all over, so he got up to check himself in the mirrored closet doors.
He could see himself front and back, covered with scratches. Shit! Derek turned back
toward the bed. Fuck! The expensive, custom-made silk sheets were stained with sweat,
his and her body fluids…and blood! He pulled up the sheets, and…fuck! fuck! fuck! The
mattress was bloodstained too! Summer had scratched him pretty bad but could he have
bled that much?! Hey, Im sorry about that, Summer said, appearing in the doorway,
naked and dripping wet, I think I started my period last night while we were screwing.
Before Derek could pick his jaw up off the ground she changed the subject. Hey, that
little tub is cool. I havent had a bath in so long. It felt really great, she said. Derek
went into the bathroom to pee, there was water everywhere, and the formerly pristine
white tub was ringed and splattered with the filth that Summer had washed off herself.
Evidently shed also washed her clothes in the sink, and they were hanging above the
shower, dripping onto the floor. Derek sat down at the dinette with his head in his hands.
Summer, still nude, put her knee on his lap and ran her fingers through his hair. Whats
wrong? she asked. Derek looked down at the stain on the carpet, from the champagne
she spilled the night before, the champagne that was supposed to be for the new owner.
He thought about the ruined sheets and mattress, and the filthy, trashed bathroom. He felt
her fingernails on his scalp, he looked down at her long toenails, then up into her sexy
brown eyes. Nothing. Nothings wrong, he said. They got dressed, ate a little
breakfast. Derek washed up the bathroom the best he could. He made the bed and said a
silent prayer that the new owner wouldnt turn back the bedspread until Derek was safely
out of sight. He knew his boss would fire him and dock his final commission for the
damages. He knew there was no way he could go back to his girlfriend. Nevermind that
there was no way he could either hide or explain the scratches on his body . Fact was, the
sex with Summer had been a thousand times better than with his girlfriend. Or that with
anybody hed ever been with. Or was likely to ever be with. It seemed hopeless. It
seemed clear to Derek that Summer was a free spirit, a woman of the road, that it must be
her own choice to remain unattached.
It was only a two-hour drive west to their final destination. Summer said he could drop
her off outside the city, where the highway they were on intersected with another that ran
north and south. Where are you heading to? Derek asked. Summer pondered a
moment. I think maybe Grand Canyon, she said. Ive never been there, Derek said.
You should, she said, Its unbelievable. Derek watched Summers small feet
disappear into her hiking socks. It would likely be the last time hed ever see long, sexy
toenails on a woman. Take whatever food you want, I have to get rid of it anyway,
Derek said. He also handed her a couple packs of cigarettes. Thanks, she said,
reaching out to take them. Her long fingernails touched his hand. He felt his dick stir.
Summer tied her long, wild hair back. Out the corner of his eye he watched her long
fingernails work the elastic hair-tie. Such sexy nails. So long and sharp. So perfect.
With her arms up he could see her dark tufts of armpit hair. It turned him on. The
natural musk of her sweat turned him on. Everything about her turned him on.
The highway intersection loomed ahead. Two corners were open, rocky fields, there was
an abandoned gas station on another corner which was barricaded, and the third corner
was a little used-car lot that afforded Derek the only place to park the huge motorhome.
Summer got up and slung her old army-surplus backpack over her shoulders and started
down the steps. Derek hit the button to open the door. He got up from his seat and
followed Summer outside. He put his hand on her shoulder and turned her to him, leaned
in to kiss her. She put her fingers against his lips. Thats probably a bad idea, she said.
Derek nodded. Her long nails scraped against his chin as she took her hand away. See
you, he said. I doubt it, she said. Take care, he said. You too, she said. Summer
started walking off. She turned around, walking backward. It would be the last time hed
see her face. She waved. The last time hed see her long, sexy fingernails. I do, she
called out. Derek looked puzzled. Summer shouted, Yesterday while we were driving,
you asked me if I ever get lonely. Well, I do. Then she turned and walked away, faster
and faster, until she was running.
There were almost no cars on the road, and the few that were, were locals only going to
the next turnoff. Summer sat on the roadside and munched on a piece of cold KFC. She
saw a truck coming in the distance, and she tossed the chicken bone over her shoulder
and stood up. A well-worn pickup with a camper top approached, trailing a cloud of dust
behind it. Summer stuck out her thumb and the driver pulled off ahead of her. Shielding
her eyes from the dust, she asked the driver where he was headed. Grand Canyon, he
said. Summer threw her backpack into the truck and jumped in. I dont understand?!
she cried, seeing Derek behind the wheel. The used-car guy traded me this for my
Rolex, and a promise to deliver the motorhome for me, he said. That watch had to be
worth twice as much as this old piece of shit, Summer said, You must be the worst RV
salesman on the planet! Maybe thats why I could only afford a fake Rolex, Derek
smiled, And a junky old camper. Summer laughed. She pulled her hiking socks off
and leaned her back against the door and put her feet in Dereks lap. I can touch you
while were driving! she said, This ones better for a young couple. He caressed her
toes, and she flicked her long toenails against his hand. Are we a couple? Derek asked,
Youre not mad I followed you? She rubbed her heel against the hardening bulge in his
pants. Whats it seem like to you? she asked. Derek leaned over to kiss her, but
Summer grabbed him by his shirt and backed into the camper, pulling him inside and
down on top of her onto the tattered old mattress. Im way past foreplay, she said,
reaching up under his shirt, scratching his back hard and quick with her long, sharp
fingernails.
-
Our Trip to Europe
The three of us were on summer vacation from college. Our plan was to travel around Europe like so many other students do. Our plan had a little deviation from the norm though. We wanted to stop by a poor Eastern European country first. We figured we could live like kings with little money and that the women would throw themselves at us, either because they thought we were rich or to get us to take them out of their horrible countries. We arrived and were strutting through the airport figuring every woman in the place wanted us. After some reassuring smiles from the airport working women, things starting going down hill. Suddenly at the passport desk we were grabbed by security and without a word being said were escorted, roughly, to a van and thrown in.
We were brought to what looked like a military compound. Nothing had been said to us and we didn't think that our detainers spoke our language, so we were scared. We were locked in a room and left alone. Two hours later a tall, dark haired women walked in the room with two uniformed guards, who hand cuffed us to straight back chairs and tied our ankles to the legs of the chairs. The women finally spoke and in perfect English with only a hint of an accent, told us that we were suspected of being the mules for a huge smuggling operation. We fit the descriptions and it would be best for us to confess and to give away our contact and supplier. We were stunned and after a minute of denials we demanded to contact our embassy and a lawyer. The women smiled, and for the first time I really noticed her. She was over six feet tall, she was wearing 3 or 4 inch heels, a very short skirt revealing gorgeous long legs, a tube top revealing exquisite breasts covered by a tailored uniform jacket. She had a wicked smile and dark observant, penetrating eyes, and as she moved her hands from behind her back I noticed her hands and more importantly her nails. Her nails were long, at least 2 inches past the end of the finger and painted blood red. They looked sharp and strong. Still smiling she told us, "my name is Nikki and it is my job to find out who is doing these crimes", then she focused those eyes on me and said, " and I will find out, by any means necessary.
You aren't in America anymore; your rights are what I say they are. You are going to tell me what I want to know or, I am going to hurt you very badly until you do". She spoke to the guards and told them to take one of us to another room so we can use him to confirm information that she gets from us. The guards started to pick my chair up to take me to another room when she said" no, not this one. As she gently rubbed her nails along my cheek, I want to play with this one", then she suddenly grabbed my hair and pulled my head back. With one hand in my hair she continued to glide her talons across my face. She wasn't scratching me but she was doing a good job of intimidating me. I really noticed how long, sharp and strong her nails were. "Aren't you glad I am going to play with you; you shouldn't be". Then she rested her hand on my forehead and put two of her claws ominously close to my eyes. "I suggest you fess up now because I really enjoy my work. I like the feeling of my nails as they push through the skin and get covered in blood that perfectly matches my nail polish. I like the suction like sound they make as they push through the skin or better yet an eyeball. Mostly I like watching my victim squirm, I like to make them whimper because screaming takes more energy then they have." As she spoke her hand still had a firm grip of my hair pulling my head back, while her two nails were now at most 1 cm from my eyes. I looked straight ahead petrified. I could see where her nail polish started and where her nails ended, and I looked down what appeared to be an endless dagger. Her hand had neither shake nor waiver, it remained completely steady and threatened to blind me with no energy expended on her part. She continued," Sometimes I get lost in my work and do an awful lot of damage even after my poor victim is ready to speak. So I suggest you talk now". She then suddenly let go of me and stood up. My two friends were begging to let us go and that we were innocent, but they were ignored. I was just sitting, staring and scared. I did not take my eyes off of my captor's nails. It was as if she stabbed my eyes and plucked them out and they were still attached to her nails because wherever she moved her hand my eyes followed.
She started to let her hair down. She thread her fingers through the knot tying her hair up and pulled the knot letting her hair fall to her shoulders. She ran those beautiful hands through her hair and smoothed it out. She was an astonishing woman but I didn't really absorb all of her beauty because my eyes were still fixated on her nails. She told the guards to remove one of my friends so we could get started. They took Tom to another room leaving Joe and me together. One of the guards moved both mine and Joe's chairs to opposite walls, facing each other about 15 feet apart. My friend was still begging and going on about how they had the wrong guys. He pleaded and begged them not to hurt us. While he was doing this, Nikki walked up to him and gave him a vicious backhand. His head jerked back and left two long bloody scratch marks on his cheek. She leaned close to him and said quietly, don't make any more noise or I will rip your tongue out. She then ran her fingers over the blood and sucked it off of her fingers.
A guard walked into the room with a stack of towels. He then proceeded to secure our interrogation positions. We were kept in our straight back chairs that were locked into place on the floor and our ankles were secured tightly to the back legs of the chair. Our handcuffs were secured to a hook on the wall behind us. This left us stretched out and in a very vulnerable position. I was worried. Nikki spoke again, " I want you boys to listen up. I have decided that you, and I watched her nod and point at me, will do the talking while your friend will just suffer. Don't worry I am an equal opportunity torturer, just not an equal opportunity listener." She took a towel off of the table and pushed her fingers through it like it was butter and proceeded to shred it. She then approached Joe, she leaned in close and put her thumb inside his mouth and pushed from inside against his right cheek. "Be a good boy and keep your mouth open. I didn't like listening to you whine so now you won't make any more noise." As I watched, blood started to leak and then pour out of his mouth. He was just sitting there bleeding, he wasn't making a sound and it didn't appear that he was breathing either. She said," I am going to gag you but with what I am going to do with you that may not keep you quiet, but if you do scream or make too much noise I will rip your tongue out. You know from how little I am doing to your cheek that I could shred your tongue like cheese." I noticed even more blood was coming out of his mouth as she wiggled her thumb. She took a piece of towel and put it in his mouth over the cut and then added pieces until he was well gagged. She then wiped her bloody thumb on his shirt. " Now remember, not a sound louder than a whimper." She then turned around and smiled at me, flashed her claws and then turned to Joe again. With all of her fingers she scratched down through his shirt, starting at his neck and ending at his waist. Then she did the same to his arms, starting at his shoulders and down to his wrists. When she stepped aside I saw that his shirt was practically gone. She grabbed the shirt in one hand and pulled it away. His chest and arms had long bloody streaks covering most of the area. "Nice huh, Nikki asked my gagged and bloody friend. Now lets get these pant off." She ripped down from his waist to his knees. Joe shrieked in pain and horror. "Oh, that must have hurt. Look at all that blood on my nails. Don't you like the way the cotton sticks to the blood? But we can't get your pants of yet, I have to rip here; and she put her hand on his cock, in order to get them off." She looked him in the eye and gave a mischievous girlish laugh, and then she put both hands on his cock and ripped outward. Joe passed out as she pulled the remains of his pants down to his ankles and tore them off. His boxers were gone also. The fear in Joe must have made him erect, I know I was hard, but the extra blood in the area from the scratches made the change in his privates look worse then it was.
"Now that we have the clothes off should I begin my interrogation or should I let him continue his nap while I take yours off. Don't worry the cut to his penis is milder then the amount of blood would imply. Part of it is from his excited state. His chance of having children is still there for now. I do not want to gag you because I want you to tell me who your suppliers and buyers are, but I don't want you to scream either, so you must control yourself or you will pay dearly." She then in a sexy and seductive way starting running her nails down and around my shirt. She ripped through the material but not my skin. I had marks but no blood and I was really turned on. She then did the same to my pants. When she saw me erect she ran her nails up and down my cock a few times and playfully scratched my balls. " See I can be friendly. Just tell me what I want to know. Your friends can take the fall and we can have some fun together." A bit of precum formed on the tip of my cock and she abruptly stopped. "You don't get your enjoyment until I get my answers, work before pleasure." She then put her right hand on five light scratch marks she had left and dragged her nails down. She didn't go deep but she left a blood trail. In my aroused state the pain was excruciating. She then grabbed my nipple between her thumb and forefinger and squeezed. The pain was horrible. Tears streaked down my face but I kept from screaming out of fear. Her gaze was locked with mine and she gave me a look of concern. "I can take your nipple off you know. A body looks quite funny without nipples. You wouldn't think that it would be that noticeable, but it is. Do you have anything to tell me?" I gave her the truth that we were only tourists and didn't know anything. Her response was a hard kick in the balls, which knocked the wind out of me and left me reeling in pain. She went back to Joe.
He was still passed out so she decided to pour half a bottle of Vodka on him to wake him up. Let's just say that he didn't keep his end of the not screaming bargain. Nikki looked at him and said, " I told you not to scream." She then hooked her thumbs behind his lips to get him to open his mouth. She pulled out some strips of towel and grabbed hold of his tongue while she held his jaw open in her other, very strong, hand. " If you close your mouth, even a little, then I am going to poke a hole in your tongue." Too bad he didn't just get a little hole. She held his tongue in one hand, between her thumbnail on bottom and the rest of her nails on top. She then took one nail from her now free hand and started scratching his tongue in long back and forth motions. Her thumbnail was deeply imbedded but I don't think it went all the way through. Then she poured vodka into his mouth. He choked and spit out a red liquid. Nikki stated," now that may be something to scream about" and she put the gag back in.
Nikki walked back to me and grabbed me by both of my earlobes. She squeezed poking holes in both. Holes too big for even the largest of earrings. I had a steady trickle of blood down my neck. She then put her right forefinger in front of my eye again. " You really have to talk soon, your friend can't really take much more eventhough I haven't really started yet, and you will be next." She then with a quick flick of her finger poked me in the eye. She didn't do it hard but I started crying and blinking. " Now that was as little as I could do, and look at you. Youre a mess. Next time I will draw blood and we will give you a pirate name and a patch. She walked back to Joe.
To Joe, " Close your eyes". She put her hand over his face like a mask then brought her fingers together, scratching the whole way. She scratched over his eyelids, across his nose and all over his cheeks. She then made a claw and just moved her hand all over his face. When she was finished his face was just a bunch of red scratches most of, which were quite bloody. His eyelids were even bleeding. Then she put two fingers up his nostrils; she poked around and then dragged them out. Joe was choking and whimpering. Nikki then started slapping him across the face hard with both hands. Each slap would make a loud noise and blood would splatter from his face. She stopped and poured a little more vodka on his face to get his attention, as if she didn't have it. "You are a mess, let's clean you up. She then with great care used a wet towel to clean up his wounds, which consisted of most of his body. While she was cleaning his she asked me in a sweet voice if I would like to talk. I of course had nothing to say. She looked at Joe lovingly and said," you are hurt pretty badly; your face will be scarred for life. Since you will be disfigured and people will look at you like a circus freak you won't be able to use this again anyway. She held his penis in her hand. We shouldn't let it be wasted." She pointed her talons and squeezed. I watched as all of the nails from her right hand disappeared into his cock. The first noise I heard was the popping or suction of the nails going in, the second was Joe scream. This only lasted a second before he passed out. Probably from the pain but maybe from loss of blood also.
Nikki had Joe's blood all over her as she seductively walked towards me holding up the hand that destroyed Joe's prized possession in one squeeze and probably killed him also. Blood and skin covered her nails. She grabbed my jaw to open my mouth. "Suck the blood off!" I did. I was terrified and I was excited and I licked and sucked those 3-inch nails until they were spotless. "Joe is probably past the usable point so if you don't talk I am going to have to do that to you. She put her hand over my cock and balls and looked at me to give me one last chance. Just as I was preparing for the worst a guard walked in the room. He informed Nikki that Tom had died during his interrogation. They had drugged him and he was given an overdose accidentally. " So now you are all we got so talk. If you don't I am going to make a hole in your scrotum and take one of your balls out. As she spoke she rubbed her nail over my ball sac. It hurt a little and felt good at the same time; but the knowledge of what she could do with no effort and a little pressure still had me petrified. Just as her eyes gave a loving look that usually preceded an assault a man in an expensive suit burst into the room and told her to stop. He said," colonel (to Nikki) there has been a mistake. We arrested the buyer and he told us the smugglers were German, not American. How should we handle this mix up?" Nikki replied, " Well, one is dead, and one is dying. Maybe I will have some fun to bring about his death. As for this one, and she pointed at me, we can't let him go, it would be bad for our relations with the USA. So I think I will keep him as a toy. Take him out of here and clean him up so I can bring him home." As they untied me I watched Nikki finish off Joe. She woke him up and then put two fingers in each end of his mouth. She pulled ripping his mouth open so he looked like the joker. She then put her fingers in his ears and said to me, " would you like to say goodbye to your friend, you won't be permitted any friends in your new life." I whispered goodbye Joe with a tear in my eye. She then looked at Joe and said," Sorry for the mistake but thanks for the fun" and then pusher her fingers into his brain. The guard walked me to the door but before we left, Nikki stopped us and made me lick Joe's brain from her fingers.
The End
-
Panther Kitten
Panther Kitten…by J.K. Sangfroid
"May I show you something, miss?" the impeccably-suited salesman at a posh Manhattan
jewelry store asked after the security guard had opened the door for a young, stunningly-
beautiful raven-haired woman in a black sable coat. "Your finest diamond jewelry," she
said with the crisp diction of a sophisticate, and a slight nod toward a lit glass case filled
with rings, pendants, earrings, bracelets, brooches and tiaras set with large, sparkling
blue-white stones. With a polite tilt of his head the salesman said, "Are you looking for
something specific? A cocktail ring perhaps!" "Perhaps," she replied with a slight toss of
her lustrous black hair that cascaded down to the middle of her back. "Very good, miss,"
the salesman said retrieving a tray of diamond cocktail rings from the case and placing it
on a black velvet display cloth on top of the counter. "How about this one?" he asked
pointing at a two-carat marquise in a simple white setting. "Something much bigger, if
you please," she said politely. "If youll pardon my interjection, miss, I couldnt help
but notice how petite you are. I imagine your hands are rather delicate, and that you
wouldnt want the stone to dwarf them," he said glancing down, where she kept her
hands tucked into opposite sleeves of her fur coat. The young woman gave the salesman
a silent but penetrating look with her icy, gray-blue eyes and he felt a slight shiver come
over him. "As you wish, miss," he said taking a breath, and gestured his hand to a five-
carat pear-shaped diamond ring. She nodded once. "A splendid choice, miss. Please
allow me to help you try it on," the salesman said easing the ring from its slot in the tray,
and extending his other hand in an offer to take hers. The young woman gracefully
withdrew her left hand from her right sleeve and placed it gently in the salesmans large
palm. He coughed once and smiled awkwardly at her. "Oh my…how…extraordinary,"
he said trying his best at being tactful while recomposing himself from the shock of
seeing that the young womans clear-polished natural nails were nearly half again the
length of her fingers, tapering almost to points. "Please be careful of them," she
cautioned. "Of course, miss. I appreciate that they must be rather fragile," he reassured
her as he began to slip the huge diamond past almost two inches of nail on her slender
finger. "I meant, be careful not to injure yourself," she said with that penetrating look,
but this time accompanied by a slight up-curl of one corner of her perfect mouth. The
salesman tugged uncomfortably at his collar and managed a nervous smile. "My
fingernails…" she said coolly, placing the tip of her pointer against the cuff of his suit
jacket, "…are devastatingly sharp." And as she said it she drew her nail slowly back, and
the expensive wool fabric of the salesmans suit split neatly in two, accompanied by the
quiet sound of ripping. "M-miss…I…," the salesman stammered, red-faced, taken
completely aback. "Cat got your tongue?" the young woman said with an ironic smile,
and she re-extended her finger and slowly sliced his shirt cuff open with her long, nearly-
pointed fingernail. The salesman started to carefully draw back his hand but she gently
grasped it and placed her long, sharp nail against his wrist. "Ill take it," she said. "V-
very g-good, miss," the salesman stammered, gazing at the five-carat ring on her finger.
"All of it," the young woman said with that penetrating look and half-smirk. She reached
her free hand inside her black sable coat and produced a large, flat, fan-shaped empty silk
purse, and placed it on the counter. "Put all the diamond jewelry in that bag," she said,
"And keep a smile on your face, like nothings wrong."
"Freeze!" a voice boomed from behind the young woman, accompanied by the sound of a
gun being cocked. The security guard stood several feet away holding his revolver with
both hands, training the gun on her. "Step away from the counter and get down on your
knees with your hands behind your back!" the guard barked. Without turning around, the
young raven-haired woman said with cool calmness, "Im afraid Im just not cut out for
prison, so I guess youre going to have to shoot me." "I mean it, lady, I will shoot you if
you dont get down on your knees and place your hands behind your back now!" the
guard growled. "Then shoot," she said, and looking the salesman in the eye as she
pressed her sharp nail into his wrist a little harder, "Of course, I will undoubtedly tense-
up involuntarily and sever your artery, and youll undoubtedly bleed to death before help
can arrive." "Back off, Carl," the salesman ordered the guard. "A wise decision," the
young woman said, then she turned to the guard with a smirk, "If you want to make
yourself useful, Carl, help your boss empty the showcase." Carl looked at the salesman,
who nodded his okay, and the guard holstered his gun and came around behind the
counter and began shoveling jewelry into her silk bag.
Suddenly Carl lunged over the counter at the woman, at the same time he shoved the
salesman hard to one side. The salesman cried out as he fell sideways to the floor. Carl
the guard was silent. He stood with a terrified look, his mouth open and moving, but all
that came out was a gurgling sound and blood trickling from the corners. Three long,
gaping wounds ran from one side of his throat to the other. Shed sliced him with her
razor-like nails so quickly he hadnt even seen or felt it until it was over. Carl slumped to
the floor, dead. "Idiot," the young woman muttered. She peered over the counter and
saw the salesman whimpering and holding his wrist, vainly trying to stem a fountain of
light pink arterial blood. She watched as the spurts came slower and the salesman grew
weaker, until finally he collapsed dead with his eyes still open. "One just cant find
good help anymore," she said shaking her head as she packed her silk bag full with the
rest of the diamond jewelry. Then she tucked the bag under her arm and walked briskly
to the door, stopping on the way to remove the security camera tape and tuck it into her
bag. A young bleached-blond woman appeared outside, and she held the door open for
her with one hand. "Oh my God!" the blond said with a strong New York accent, "Your
nails are to die for!" "Some might say so," the dark-haired beauty smiled as the women
passed one another, and as she blended into the busy throng of people on the street, she
could hear the blond womans horrified scream from inside the store.
The taxi pulled up to the curb at a nondescript building in Brooklyn. The raven-haired
young woman got out and hurried inside. After a ride in a rickety old elevator she arrived
on the fourth floor and knocked on the only unmarked door. A short, fat man in a garish
cinnamon-colored suit opened the door. "Youre Fioretti, I presume?" she asked. "Are
you sure nobody noticed you?" he asked. "Everyone notices me," she said proudly. "I
meant, followed you," he rephrased gruffly. "I know my business," she said coolly. He
cast her a disapproving look as he closed and locked the door behind them and led her to
a chair beside a small table. She sat down gracefully, and Fioretti plopped into a chair
across from her. "You got a name, honey?" he asked with a tobacco-stained smile.
"Yes," she answered drilling him with an icy stare of her gray-blue eyes, "And it isnt
honey." Fioretti was quiet. "My name is Mary-Kate Rathburn . But my friends and
associates call me…Kitten," she smiled, slowly offering him her hand to kiss. "I wonder
why," Fioretti remarked sarcastically as he obligingly kissed the back of her hand and
stared at her unbelievably-long, nearly-pointed nails. "Lets get down to business, shall
we?" Kitten said opening the bag she held in her lap. Fioretti spread a velvet cloth on the
small table and adjusted a goose-neck floor lamp so it shone directly down. As she
carefully placed the stolen items on the table, Fioretti reached in his pocket and produced
a jewelers loupe. He leaned forward and began carefully scrutinizing each piece. When
he was through, he sat back and announced, "A mil five." She laughed momentarily and
then gave him that penetrating stare and said, "Its worth at least six million and you
know it." "Im sure you can offer me something else to…you know…sweeten the pot,"
he said leaning forward with a lecherous wink, taking her delicate hands in his. Cool and
collected, Kitten looked down at his fat hands with thick, dark hair sprouting from each
chubby finger joint. "Im afraid neanderthal isnt my type," she said bluntly, and stroked
the side of her extremely-long pinkie nail across one of his knuckles, shaving the hair off
cleanly. "Jesus!" he gasped. Kitten smiled. "Ok, three mil. Thats my final offer,"
Fioretti said. "Im sorry I wasted your time and mine," she said beginning to shovel the
jewels back into her bag. Fioretti held her hand still and looked into her eyes. "Those
jewels are hotter than the bowels of hell, what with the blood of two murders on em. It
could be years before theyre cool enough to move," he said. Kitten took a deep breath.
"I assume you have the cash?" she sighed. "Now, thats being smart," Fioretti said. He
hoisted his ample girth from the chair and filled a satchel with stacks of wrapped bills
from an old iron safe behind his cluttered desk. "All small denominations, virtually
untraceable" he informed her as he showed her the money, "Go ahead, count it." "I trust
you," Kitten said with sweetness, stroking his fat jowl with the back of her hand.
Fiorettis nostrils flared and he began to pant. "God damn, youre so fucking hot! How
about you gimme something? A blowjob maybe?" he whined. "You cant be serious,"
she laughed. "Oh come on! A handjob. Just a stinkin handjob. Huh? What do you
say?" he pleaded. "Wellll…" she pondered. "Pleeeeease!" he begged with his fat fingers
clasped together. "Ok, why not," she agreed reluctantly. "Thanks! I owe you!" Fioretti
said undoing his size-50 trousers and dropping his enormous boxers. "You certainly do,"
Kitten muttered, craning to see his fat little dick beneath his pendulous gut. "Oh, baby,
Ive got such an itch for you!" Fioretti groaned as Kittens warm fingers wrapped around
his cock. "Well then," she said whispering close to his ear, "Let me scratch it for you."
Fiorettis high-pitched, anguished scream reverbrated off the high ceiling and crumbling
walls. "Now you understand what they mean by Be careful what you wish for" Kitten
said, grasping his fat face with her blood-covered hands. She gave him a little kiss on his
forehead. His knees buckling from the searing pain in his groin, she let her long razor-
sharp fingernails slice through his fat cheeks like hot knives through butter as he sank to
the floor. Kitten washed her hands in the sink and picked up the satchel of money and
the bag of jewels and stepped gingerly around Fiorettis dead body avoiding the rapidly-
spreading pool of his blood. "Never try to cheat a cheater," she remarked as she left.
Kitten got out of another taxi, this time in front of a posh upper-west-side apartment
building. A uniformed doorman in white gloves took her hand to help her out of the cab,
and she delighted at his look of surprise at the length of her nails. As she slipped her
hand out of his, she allowed her nails to glide across his palm, and she laughed to herself
as the doorman tried to disguise his shock and awe upon seeing four neat cuts in his white
cotton glove. Kitten waited for the doorman to go ahead of her and open the door, and
then she walked to the elevator and told the operator, "Penthouse, please."
When she got off the elevator she stepped directly into a rich marble foyer, and a tall
forty-ish man in an expensive custom-made suit was leaning against the wall with
debonair ease. "Hello, Mary-Kate," he said affably with a subdued upper-class British
accent. "Hello, Charles," she replied, clutching the purse of jewelry under one arm and
offering her free hand to be kissed. "Youll pardon me if I dont take your hand, wont
you Mary-Kate?" he asked smiling charmingly, "In fact, I pray youll understand if I ask
you to keep a bit more than arms length from me at all times?" "Of course, Charles,"
she replied with a polite smile. He looked at the large bag she carried, "I assume those
are the jewels from the recent Manhattan robbery?" "And why would you assume it was
I?" she asked. "Lets just say your method of dispatching witnesses is rather
uniquely…you," Charles smiled. "Yes…it is, isnt it!" she sighed with satisfaction,
turning her hand slowly, admiring her unfathomably long, sharp fingernails. "And if I
might assume further, Id say youre here to see if Im interested in taking those
diamonds off your hands," Charles offered. She smiled. "So then, shall we adjourn to
my study and conduct business?" he asked. "After you," she said smiling. "Oh, no. I
fear that would be most un-gentlemanly of me for your sake…and most un-wise for
mine," he said with a bow and a sweep of his hand, "After you, Mary-Kate."
Charles sat down behind a large antique mahogany desk and motioned for Mary-Kate to
sit in front. He opened the desk drawer and laid a .45 pistol carefully on the blotter.
"Just a precaution you understand my dear. Nothing personal. I wouldnt enjoy suffering
the same fate as poor Mr. Fioretti," he said. "Word travels fast," Kitten said, "He tried to
cheat me, and then he had the nerve to press me for sexual favors. The world is better
without the vile pig." Charles poured two glasses of wine and slid one to the front of the
desk. "Chardonnay?" he enquired. "You remembered," she replied. "In my business its
imperative to…as they say…keep ones friends close and ones enemies closer," he said.
"Are we enemies now, Charles?" she asked closing her lethal nails around the delicate
wine glass. "Im not quite sure what the nature of our relationship is, Mary-Kate, are
you?" he asked taking a sip of wine. "We used to be lovers, Charles," she said. "Indeed.
Ive still got the old scars on my back to remind me," he remarked wistfully. "Perhaps
its time for some fresh ones?" she suggested, licking the rim of her wine glass slowly
while giving him a smoldering look with her icy gray-blue eyes, "Have you forgotten
how superlative I am in bed?" "Not at all," Charles said, "But neither have I forgotten
how sharp those claws of yours are, Mary-Kate." "You used to call me Kitten," she said
demurely. "That was before I discovered youre more of a maurauding leopard," he
replied. "Ess," she said stretching her lithe body, "Leopard-ess." "Ill give you six
million for these," Charles said poring over the jewelry, "And another five hundred
thousand if you promise our paths shall never cross again." Like a blur she sprang from
her chair and onto his desk, sweeping the gun away before he had a chance to grab for it,
and took his face between her hands. "Only because were friends, Ill give you ten
seconds to convince me why I shouldnt blind you for that," she said, poising her
extraordinarily long fingernails menacingly over his eyes. Perspiration poured from
Charles forehead with the near-points of her nails hovering less than an inch from his
pupils. Charles sighed, "Alright. Let me make love to you. You win as always, Mary-
Kate." "Call me Kitten," she whispered putting her hand on his crotch. "Would you like
to take it out, or should I?" she asked, and Charles heard the sound of ripping fabric.
"Dammit! This is a $6000 suit!" he cried. "Was," Kitten smiled, flicking a shredded
swatch of his pants off the tip of one of her razor-sharp fingernails. An hour later Kitten
sat on the edge of Charles bed putting her clothes back on. She heard him whine and
she cast a glance over her shoulder. "Oh, dont be such a child," she said
unsympathetically, "Youll live. In fact I dont think any of those scratches will even
need stitches."
"Welcome on board, Ms. Rogers. Your seat is in first-class, number 3A," the rather
effeminate flight attendant said reading the ticket Mary-Kate Rathburn had procured
using a false name. "Thank you," she said politely. "Hee hee, its soooo lucky the TSA
regulations against sharp weapons dont include fingernails, or youd have to cut those!"
the attendant joked. Kitten sneered. "By the way, I think theyre gorgeous!" he
remarked as she passed. She smiled and admired her hands. "They are," she said.
Kitten took her seat and closed her eyes. In a few moments a good-looking thirty-
something man sat down in the adjacent seat, and Kitten opened her eyes suddenly with
the instinctive paranoia the result of her criminal lifestyle. "Normally I hate flying to
L.A.," he said initiating conversation, "But I have a feeling this one is going to be a
pleasure." "Do you?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, "And why is that?"
"Well…uh…" he stammered, recognizing that she wasnt playing to his line. "Im Mary-
Kate," she said with a smile, offering him her hand to be kissed. "Im Dan," he said
taking her hand, and with a little laugh gently kissed it. "Do I have something funny
written on my hand?" she asked sarcastically. "No…um…its just that Ive never met a
woman who…" he began. "…Has such long, dangerous-looking nails?" she finished. "I
was going to say Ive never met a woman who wanted her hand kissed," he said,
"But…wow! Ive never met a woman with nails like yours, either." "Then youve never
met a real woman," she countered.
"Im definitely going to enjoy the next five hours," Dan said. "Perhaps even longer, if
you play your cards right," she whispered with a sexy stare of her pale gray-blue eyes,
and he could feel himself getting hard. "What do you do?" she asked him. "I own a
number of high-end automobile dealerships. Rolls, Bentley, Lamborghini, Ferarri…like
that," he answered. "How charming," she replied. "And what do you do…if its not too
nosy of me?" Dan asked. "Im a jewel thief and a serial-killer," she answered directly.
Dan smiled and laughed, "Well I shouldve suspected, because youve already stolen my
heart. Now Im praying youll kill me with pleasure." He gave her his most charming
look and rested his hand gently on Kittens bare thigh. It made her seethe with contempt
and rage. She burned with the desire to slice his fingers open to the bone with her razor-
sharp long fingernails. It would only take a fraction of a second for her to do it, with just
a light swipe. But she knew that a commercial airplane flight wasnt the right time or
place, and she bit her lip. "When I kill you, it will definitely be with pleasure," Kitten
said with her own meaning, at the same time covertly admiring her remarkably-long
fingernails and contenting herself to imagine them tearing through his flesh. Dan
continued to hit on her, not suspecting from her flirtatious repartee that the entire time he
was a mere heartbeat away from being butchered by the same incredibly long nails that
he found irresistibly sexy.
They had both dozed off toward the latter part of the flight, and were awakened by the
jolt of the plane landing. Kitten stretched her lithe body with a fluid, feline movement.
Sleep had calmed her and shed lost the comsuming desire to rip Dan apart with her nails,
and instead she focused her mind ahead on her plans to commit robberies in L.A.
"Can I take you someplace? Your hotel?" Dan asked her, once again resting his hand on
her bare thigh. Once again, Kitten was nearly overcome by rage. "How about your
place?" she whispered through an artificial smile. "You cut right to it, dont you?" he
laughed. "You could say that," she said checking her nails. From baggage claim the two
walked to the parking garage where Dan touched his key remote and the lights flashed
and the alarm chirped on a jet-black Rolls-Royce convertible. "My house is in
Brentwood," Dan said. "Isnt that where the O.J. murders took place?" she asked. Dan
laughed, "Yes, but dont worry, nothing like that has happened since." "So its about
due?" she suggested, and they both laughed. Kitten slid her alarmingly-long, sharp
thumbnail slowly up and down against her ring-finger-nail, her heartbeat quickening with
anticipation.
The iron gates opened automatically when Dan wheeled the black Rolls past the sensor,
and then up the long, curving driveway. He touched a button overhead and one of the six
garage doors opened. Inside, Kitten observed Dans five other vehicles: A blue Aston-
Martin coupe, a red Ferarri convertible, a yellow Hummer H2, a gray Rolls sedan, and a
Harley Softtail. She followed him to the door to the house, the click of her stiletto heels
echoing from the garage walls. "Welcome to my humble abode," Dan said with
humorous modesty, "Would you like a drink? Maybe freshen up a bit?" Kitten drew
herself close to him, her lips almost touching his. He could feel her hot breath coming in
shallow pants as she whispered, "Got any other suggestions?" "Damn! You really are
something else!" he exclaimed, as Kitten pulled away just in time to avoid him kissing
her. "Christ, dont tease me like that!" he cried. "I wont if you wont," she said. "The
bedroom is through there," he said pointing, "Let me just put a bottle of champagne on
ice and take a couple steaks out of the freezer for later." Dan went to a stainless double-
door and opened the latch. Kitten felt a blast of cold, and she peered inside. "I have an
obsession with Kobi beef, so I installed a walk-in freezer," he bragged. "How
convenient," Kitten mused.
Dans bedroom was done in early-playboy-bachelor, with mirrored walls and a huge,
king-sized bed on a pedestal, underneath a mirrored ceiling. "The ladies bathroom is
through there, if you care for a shower," he said pointing. "Why? Dont you like the
scent of a woman aroused?" Kitten asked lifting her short skirt exposing her cleanly-
waxed pussy. He gasped, realizing she hadnt been wearing panties. "No! I mean, yes! I
mean…well, I need a shower. Im a little sweaty," he said. Kitten said, "If you can wait
to have me until youve showered, then you dont want me badly enough." "Oh, I want
you really badly!" he gasped. "Then get naked and lie down in bed," she ordered him
abruptly. Dan struggled and hurried, clumsily pulling his pants inside-out trying to get
them over his shoes. Kitten laughed, but inside her contempt was boiling. Finally Dan
plopped down on the bed on his back, with his dick standing straight up like a flagpole.
"Arent you going to get undressed?" he asked. "I wanted your complete attention," she
said, and began a slow, seductive striptease, all the time continually posing and modeling
and showcasing her incredibly-long fingernails. By the time she was down to just her
high-heels, Dan was practically hyperventilating. Kitten kneeled onto the bed and
straddled him. "Jesus, youre so fucking hot!" he gushed, and with a chuckle said,
"Pinch me, I think I must be dreaming." Kitten smiled and shrugged and opposed her
thumb and index fingers approaching his thigh. "Wait! Its just an expression!" he cried,
seeing the near-pointedness of her extraordinarily-long fingernails. Kitten pouted and
said, "Aw, shucks," followed by a smile. Dan sighed and laughed, "Your nails are very
hot, but something tells me theyre probably kinda sharp, too." Kitten slowly leaned her
trim, toned body forward at the waist until her hard nipples were grazing his chest, and
with her hands flat against the sheets on either side of him she whispered, "Yeah, kinda."
Then she sat up slowly from the waist, dragging her nails. Dans eyes grew huge as he
saw Kittens nails slice through the sheets and the mattress top, raising a cloud of stuffing
on either side of him. "Fuck," he gasped and started to rise on his elbows, but Kitten
flattened herself against him. "No. No fuck," she whispered in his ear and then sat back
up, this time dragging her nails through his skin from his shoulders to his hips. She did it
over and over. Her shrieks of pleasured laughter nearly drowned-out his horrific cries of
agony. Blood and bits of his skin splattering up and raining down turned both their naked
bodies crimson red. Finally Mary-Kate made her right hand into a claw and drove her
five unbelievably-long razor-sharp nails into his throat, and she clenched her fingers in
deep, until Dan stopped moving. "Its like you said," she sighed with improbable
calmness, "I cut right to it." Coolly, she climbed off the bed and wrapped his body in the
sheets, then she dragged it to the kitchen and opened the door to the walk-in freezer
where she deposited it against the far wall. Then she went back to the bedroom and took
a long, hot shower, watching the water swirling at her feet turn from red to pink and
finally run clear as she washed the blood from herself. Naked and dripping wet, Kitten
took the champagne from the ice bucket, sliced the foil and popped the cork with her
razor-sharp thumbnail, and poured herself a glass. "To my new house and my new cars,"
she said cheerfully, and took a sip.
After a nap, Kitten took a leather tube out of her suitcase and unzipped one end. She
removed the maps inside and un-rolled them on the kitchen island counter. She turned on
the oven broiler and unwrapped the two steaks Dan had left out, and she sliced the thick,
raw beef into narrow strips with ease with her razor-sharp index nail. As the meat
broiled, she pored over a map of surrounding L.A., and intel reports about jewelry stores,
the times their owners opened and closed, police cruising schedules and response times,
and the roads and traffic patterns of multiple escape routes, all of which she committed
instantly to her photographic memory. Suddenly she heard a car pull up to the front of
the house, and then a key turning in the front door. "Dan?" a female voice called, "Are
you home, baby? Its me, Tonya. Mmmm! I smell something delicious! Why didnt
you call to say you arrived, I was starting to wor…" Her words cut short when she
walked into the kitchen and saw Kitten, naked except for slippers and one of Dans dress
shirts. "Who the hell are you?" Tonya asked with angered shock. She was your typical
L.A. wannabe-starlet: tall, skinny, large boobs, bleached-blond, spray-tanned…and
vapidly self-absorbed. "I the hell am Mary-Kate," Kitten said coolly, "I take it you must
be one of Dans little playthings?" "Im his fiancee!" Tonya said stamping her high-
heeled foot once with each word. "Mmm, I bet you can even count to ten like that!"
Kitten said, alluding to the trick horses are sometimes taught. "Huh?" Tonya said, the
insult having gone over her head. "Wheres Dan?!" Tonya asked insistently. "After me,
he needed some time to cool off," Kitten said, thinking of his body lying in the walk-in
freezer. "Bastard!" Tonya screamed, and she began to cry. Kitten tossed back her mane
of lustrous black hair and smiled at Tonya. "They all are," she commiserated, "Let me
get you some champagne."
Tonya came and sat on the stool next to Kitten, while Kitten got the bottle of champagne
from the bedroom and returned. She poured two glasses and offered one to Tonya. "Let
me guess: actress?" Kitten said. Tonya nodded, accepting the glass of champagne.
"Thanks, I…holy shit! A-are those your real nails?" she gasped. Kitten smiled. "Long
nails are like, eighties. Theyre like, so over," Tanya remarked with cattyness, setting the
glass down. "Over…perhaps. But still useful," Kitten said with a smile, slipping her
extraordinarily-long pinkie nails under the straps of Tonyas top and with a quick flick,
severed them both, and her top fell down. "Hey! OMG!" Tonya screamed, clasping her
hands to herself to cover her boobs. Kitten gave her a sexy look and gently took Tonyas
hands and tried to ease them away. "Listen, you freak!" Tonya exclaimed, grabbing
Kittens wrists. Kitten extended one pinkie and with a quick, light touch left a pencil-thin
gash on Tonyas boob. "Ouch! Shit!" Tonya screamed, gasping at how easily Kitten had
made her bleed. "That one will heal without a scar," Kitten said with a penetrating stare
of her icy gray-blue eyes, "But I promise the next one wont. The best plastic surgeons in
Beverly Hills wont be able to fix what I will do to you if you dont cooperate." She
applied a little pressure against Tonyas hands and this time she let Kitten take them
away from her, and she sat there with her bare boobs revealed. Kitten fondled them,
being careful not to touch with her razor-sharp nails. "How novel, theyre real," Kitten
said. She leaned forward and licked first one then the other, then she took Tonyas right
nipple between her teeth and sucked hard. "Umm…Im straight. Im not even…you
know…like, bi," Tonya whispered trepiditiously. "Youre an actress," Kitten said with
a glance of her pale gray-blue eyes and a toss of her shimmering raven hair, "So, act."
With that, she pulled Tonyas head back by her hair and kissed her with fearsome
passion. By the time she let up, the terrified girl was gasping for breath. "P-please…M-
mary-K-kate," Tonya sobbed. "Call me Kitten," she whispered, resting the tips of her
razor-sharp long fingernails on Tonyas bronzed cheek. Then she led the trembling young
woman to the bedroom. "Sorry for the mess," Kitten said with a malicious grin as she
pushed Tonya onto the bed. Tonya glanced around at the mattress torn in shreds and
soaked with blood and she squeaked, "Oh my God. Is Dan…is he…did you k-kill h-
him?" "You have such lovely skin," Kitten whispered, ignoring her query. "Oh, God,
please dont kill me!" she begged. "Dont be afraid," Kitten said reassuringly, "I wont
hurt you. I really like you. Were both going to have a wonderful time, ok? I promise.
Relax." "Really? Ok," Tonya said choking back tears, and she gave Kitten a little smile.
"Thats better!" Kitten said cheerfully, standing on her knees straddling Tonya on the
bed. She leaned forward and cupped one of Tonyas breasts while she rested her other
hand beside Tonyas face. Kitten kissed Tonyas lips and traced her tongue around to
Tonyas ear. Then she sank her unbelievably-long razor-sharp nails effortlessly deep into
Tonyas flesh and dragged them slowly through. "Y-you lieeeeeeeeed!" Tonya shrieked.
"Its called acting, you of all people should know that," Kitten laughed, sitting up
admiring the carnage her nails had wrought, before continuing her bloody assault. When
Tonya was finally dead, Kitten got another sheet from the closet and rolled her body into
it and deposited it in the walk-in freezer next to Dans. She took another hot shower to
wash the blood off her, and came back into the kitchen. Kitten picked up her glass of
champagne and tapped her sharp nail against the stem as she perused her maps and notes,
and she mused to herself, "Now then, where was I?"
III.
The master bedroom walls were splattered with red, and the mattress shredded and
saturated with dried blood, so Kitten slept in one of the other four bedrooms. In the
morning she awoke with a yawn and a feline stretch, and glanced at the alarm clock. It
was eight-forty, and she smiled and pranced to the bathroom for a quick shower, and then
out to the kitchen where she made a pot of coffee and prepared herself scrambled eggs
and toast. Dressed in a short, tight, white outfit, Kitten slid behind the wheel of Dans
blue Aston-Martin coupe and adjusted the seat and mirrors and backed out of the garage.
In a few minutes she pulled into an upscale mall and into the parking garage. She went
inside and found her way to a little trendy boutique where she bought a large pink floppy
hat, and then on to a Sunglass Hut where she purchased a pair of oversized sunglasses.
As her last stop, she went into a wig shop and bought a short blond wig. As she was
paying, she became aware of a couple of early-twenties women giggling and sharing
secrets behind their hands. They were both thin and hot, one was blond and the other a
redhead. Kitten noticed that their eyes were on her, and she stopped. "Is there something
about me you find amusing?" she asked with a toss of her luxurious long black hair and a
stare of her icy gray-blue eyes. "Yeah…um…no, nevermind!" the blond giggled.
"Seriously, Id like to know," she said blocking their path. "Well…like…its just that,
like, your…um…your nails are, like, sooooo, like, ghetto!" she said with valley-girl
intonation. "Totally, like, trailer park!" the redhead chimed in. "Nails past the end of the
fingers are, like, so totally last century," the blond said, and both girls displayed their
own nails, little square stubs, hers painted black and the redheads dark green. "So you
think I should cut them," Kitten replied cordially. "Like, this instant!" the redheadded
girl squealed. "Totally!" her blond companion agreed, "Like, before the fashion police,
like, arrest you or something."
Kitten watched the two young women stroll out, still giggling and no doubt snarking
about her fingernails that were half again the length of her fingers. They were still
giggling and snarking when they got into the redheads white Lexus convertible. In fact
they were laughing hysterically…right up to the moment they heard the convertible top
rip, and a hand burst through and grabbed the blond passenger under the chin,
extraordinarily-long nails sinking effortlessly into her throat. The redhead screamed in
terror while she watched her companions arms and legs flail and then go limp. Kitten
opened the door and yanked the blond girls body out, and took her place in the passenger
seat. "Hi! Remember me? The woman with the, like, totally trailer-park nails?" Kitten
asked, mocking the girls valley-speak. Her eyes wide with terror, the redhead reached
for her door handle, but Kitten put her hand on the girls thigh, and her nails effortlessly
sank an inch deep. The girl screamed in pain, and blood began to trickle from where
Kittens nails were embedded. "Drive where I tell you, or end up dead like your friend.
Your choice," Kitten said with a penetrating stare of her icy blue-gray eyes.
Sobbing in fear, her leg bleeding and throbbing, the redhead drove out of the parking
garage and followed Kittens directions. They parked on the street a few doors down
from one of the finest jewelry stores in the area. "I have a photographic memory,
Connie," she said holding up the redheads drivers license shed found rummaging in her
purse while they drove, "So if you arent here when I get back, Ill find you…and I dont
think I have to tell you what will happen when I do…do I, Connie?" Kitten poked a
sharp nail into one of the puncture wounds on the girls thigh and she cried out. "Do I,
Connie?" Kitten repeated her question. Connie shook her head quickly. "Good," Kitten
smiled, looked at her watch and said, "Now that we have that out of the way, I have a few
minutes, and I could use to relax. I really wasnt expecting killing your friend, and Im a
little juiced…you know what I mean?" Kitten turned in her seat and faced the girl, lifting
her short white skirt and spreading her legs. "Fingering myself is not an option," she said
displaying her very long, deadly-sharp fingernails, and nodding at Connies stubby little
short nails added, "But you seem perfectly suited to the task." Connie looked into
Kittens icy gray-blue eyes and knew what she had to do. Her hands were shaking as she
gingerly began. "Gently. Slowly. Thats it," Kitten sighed, "Try using three fingers, two
isnt doing it for me. Ooooh, yes! Thats better. Much better. I might even keep you
alive for a while longer, just to service me." Tears were streaming down Connies face,
and she was choking back cold-white fear. "You sort of remind me of a girl I knew in
boarding school," Kitten said, "She had red hair too. She used to let me copy her
homework and cheat off her on tests. Then one day she refused." Kitten closed her eyes
and sighed, "I wonder if she ever found a man to accept her with her face so badly
scarred." Connie began to sob. Kitten took her hands. "Im sorry, Connie, but those
little green stubs of nails of yours are distracting me. Lets try something else, ok?"
Kitten took Connies head and guided her face down between her legs. "Oh my! Oh yes!
Thats going to do it! Oh yes! Yessss!" Kitten moaned. She reached behind Connie and
raked her back, her silk blouse gave way easily to Kittens nails, and began to soak with
blood from the long, red scratches. With her face between Kittens legs, Connies painful
cries were muffled, but she wailed loudly when Kitten finally released her. "Shhh! If
you arent quiet Ill have no choice but to kill you," Kitten whispered, and Connie
clasped her hands over her mouth to stifle her own cries. "Ill be back before you know
it," Kitten smiled, and she leaned over the girl and gave her a deep tongue-kiss. She
donned the short blond wig and floppy hat and sunglasses, and stepped out of the car.
Kitten walked across the street to the jewelry store with the confident saunter of a woman
with no doubts as to her beauty and allure. The door buzzed and clicked, and she stepped
inside. Her eyes scanned the store quickly. Aside from the burly security guard who
stood by the door to her immediate left, there were two people behind the counters, an
overweight middle-aged woman and a tall, gangly middle-aged man. A young man
stood in front of the counter being served by the saleswoman, picking out an engagement
ring. The young man was A-list movie-star handsome, a fact that did not escape Kittens
attention, although she had other things on her mind. "Good morning," the muscular
guard said to her with a smile. Kitten smiled back, "Not for you, Im afraid," and before
he could react she had all ten of her astoundingly-long, razor-sharp fingernails buried to
the hilt in his neck. His eyes rolled back and a little blood trickled from the corner of his
mouth, and when she withdrew her nails swiftly, he slumped to the ground, dead. "No
one moves!" she commanded, pointing a long, bloody fingernail at the others. "And step
away from that panic button on the floor by your right foot," she said to the skinny
salesman, recalling its location from the plans shed studied with her photographic
memory. "Everyone in back," Kitten ordered, herding the salespeople and the good-
looking male customer through a door marked private. "Open the safe and put all the
loose diamonds in this," she said handing the saleswoman her white purse. Suddenly the
skinny salesman made a lunge for a desk and yanked open the top drawer and pulled out
a pistol. "Put your hands up!" he shouted at Kitten. "No…I dont think so," Kitten said
with cool calmness, and she snatched the saleswomans arm. The chubby woman
screamed wildly and tried to pry Kittens hand away, but those razor-sharp fingernails
were buried more than an inch and a half into her arm. Kitten reached over with her
other hand and slowly dragged her index nail down the saleswomans fat cheek, and it
split open revealing all her layers of skin and fat and muscle. "Put down the gun or Ill
butcher her like a pig," Kitten said coolly, placing her index nail against the womans
double-chinned throat. The skinny salesman held up his hands and shouted, "Ok! Ok!
Im putting it down!" and laid the pistol on the desk. "Now come here," Kitten ordered,
and the gaunt middle-aged sales clerk complied. He was shaking like a leaf when Kitten
ordered him to his knees in front of her. "You had to play hero, didnt you?" she sneered
scornfully, "Well, this may be L.A. but its real life, and in real life heroes die." With
that Kitten held her fingers together in a row, and slashed them sideways across his
throat. "Any more heroes here today?" Kitten asked. The only sound was the soft
weeping of the saleswoman as she filled Kittens purse with tray after tray of loose
diamonds.
Kitten turned her attention to the movie-star-handsome young customer. "Give me your
car key," she ordered. Without hesitation he dug in his pocket and tossed her the key.
"Mmm, Mercedes," she smiled. Kitten closed her purse full of diamonds and said to him,
"Be a good boy and get the security camera tape for me." While his back was turned,
Kitten slit the saleswomans throat with a single long, sharp nail. "Lets go," Kitten said
taking the young mans arm with a smile, "When we walk outside, act as if were
boyfriend and girlfriend just out for some shopping." As they stepped over the guards
body, Kitten took his handcuffs and key and shoved them in her bag. "Wheres your
car?" Kitten asked when they were outside, pretending to be having just a casual
conversation with her boyfriend. "Over there," he said. Kitten pressed the remote to
unlock the car, and she opened the drivers door. "Get in. Youre driving," she said.
"Please, just take the car! You can have my wallet too!" he pleaded. "Shut up and do as
youre told if you want to live," she said coldly, making a quick rip in his shirt sleeve and
leaving a thin crimson scratch on his arm with her razor-sharp index finger nail for
emphasis. "Ok! Ok!" he gasped, watching the blood soak into his sleeve, "Just please
dont kill me!" "Drive over by that Lexus convertible," Kitten said settling into the
passenger seat, "I need to say goodbye to someone."
Kitten turned the engine off and removed the key, and then she handcuffed the young
man to the steering wheel. She got out and went over to Connies car and got inside. "I
w-waited f-for you j-just like you s-said," Connie chattered fearfully. "And Im so glad
you did," Kitten said sweetly, "But Im afraid theres been a change in plans. I sort of
met this really hot guy and hes going to give me a ride home." "Oh, well, ok," Connie
said with a scared smile. "Youre a sweet thing, so Ill try to make it as quick and
painless as I can," Kitten said flexing her fingers with their long, dagger-like nearly-
pointed nails. "No! Please, no!" Connie cried. "Im sorry, but the thing is, you can
identify me, and we cant have that, now can we?" Kitten said. "I wont tell anyone!"
Connie begged, "I promise! I wont say a thing!" "You promise?" Kitten asked
sincerely. "Yes! Honest!" Connie sobbed. "Cross your heart and hope to die?" Kitten
asked. "Yes!" Connie cried. "Stick a needle in your eye?" Kitten asked. "Uh huh!"
Connie wept. "Hmm, well…I havent got a needle on me…will this do?" Kitten asked,
and she stabbed her middle finger nail through the girls eye. The nearly three-inch-long
nail penetrated into the girls brain, and Kitten twisted her wrist back and forth. The little
redhead convulsed and went limp. Kitten gave her a little kiss on the forehead. "You did
say you hoped to die," she mused to the dead girl, "Who says wishes dont come true?"
"Did you miss me?" Kitten asked the hot young guy when she plopped back into his car.
She unlocked the handcuffs and put them back in her bag. "Drive," she said. Kitten
directed him to drive back to the parking garage where shed carjacked the two girls.
"This is me," she said pointing to the blue Aston-Martin. The young man stopped the car
behind it and unlocked the doors. "Park," Kitten said, "Youre coming with me." "P-
please let me go," he pleaded, "You dont need me anymore." "Oh but I do," Kitten said
licking her lips. She brushed back his styled, moussed black hair, and she licked his neck
and breathed hotly in his ear. "Im going to take you home and were going to play cat
and mouse. Guess which one I am?" she whispered, gave his hand a quick scratch, and
laughed as she watched it sprout three thin, bleeding lines. Kitten escorted the young
man to the Aston-Martin and shoved him in the passenger seat, then she crawled over
him into the drivers seat. As she did she put her hand on his crotch. "Youd better be as
sexy down there are you are up here," she whispered, caressing his cheek with her lips,
and she kissed him hard. "Mmmm," she purred, feeling a hard bulge grow inside his
pants. Kitten slipped behind the wheel and started the engine. "Take it out, I want to see
it," she said excitedly. The young man hesitated. "Believe me, you dont want me
rooting around in there for it," she said with a smirk, "So do as I say." Gingerly he undid
his pants and freed his dick. "Oh, my!" she sighed and reached for it. The young man
pulled back in his seat fearfully. "Youre worried I might accidentally scratch it," she
declared, obviously pleased that he was terrified. "Dont worry," she said touching his
shoulder, and he seemed to relax. "I dont scratch accidentally," she smiled slyly. Kitten
put the Aston-Martin in drive and as she peeled out of the parking garage, past the crime-
scene tape and chalk outline where the body of her blond victim had been removed, she
reached over and wrapped her fingers around her young captives shaft, feeling it grow
rock-solid. "Men find my long fingernails incredibly sexy," she stated, "Its partly the
danger…knowing how sharp they are and contemplating the extent of the pain and
damage they can cause in just an instant." The young man looked down at her lovely,
feminine fingers wrapped gently around his shaft, stroking slowly up and down, her
unbelievably-long razor-sharp nails only a hairs breadth from making contact with his
skin. In a second, he came like a fountain. Kitten laughed and wiped her hand on his
pants. "Excellent. Now youll be able to last much longer for me when we get home,"
she said. Lightly she stroked the tips of her nails across his pants, tearing slices in the
fabric and making shallow scratch lines on his thigh. "At least youd better," she warned.
"Whats your name?" Kitten asked her captive. "B-B-Brian," he stammered almost
inaudibly. "Well B-B-Brian," she said mockingly, "Im Mary-Kate, but all my lovers
call me Kitten." "I…I cant sleep with you… I have a girlfriend...it would be cheating,"
Brian pleaded. "What if we swing by her place first and I…have a little talk with her?"
Kitten suggested, flexing her fingers with their long, deadly nails. "No! Please! Ill do
anything you want!" he cried. "That you will," she smiled. They whisked through the
automatic security gate back at the Brentwood mansion Kitten had taken over, and pulled
into the garage. "You need to eat for energy," Kitten stated, leading Brian by the arm
into the walk-in freezer, "How about a nice, big steak?" "Oh God!" he screamed, spying
the two frosty blood-drenched sheets in the form of human bodies. "Dont worry, they
wont disturb us," she laughed, using her sharp nails to separate two frozen steaks.
Kitten put the steaks in a bowl of warm water in the kitchen sink and led Brian quickly to
the master bedroom. "Sorry, I havent had time to tidy up," Kitten apologized. "Dear
Jesus!" he cried, his knees buckling at the sight of the shredded, blood-stained mattress
and the dark red splatter on the headboard and walls. "Get naked," she commanded,
resting her hands on his shoulders. Brian clasped his hands to himself in terror. "Do I
need to undress you?" she asked running her index nail slowly along his shirt sleeve,
slicing it easily. Quickly Brian began to strip. Kitten stood back ogling his sculpted pecs
and symmetrical, defined six-pack abs. She bit her lower lip and began breathing harder,
and when he stepped out of his briefs and she saw his tight ass and huge penis, Kitten
licked a little drool from the corners of her full, cherry-red lips. Slowly she approached
him, shrugging off bits of her clothing as she came closer, until she stood almost touching
him, wearing nothing but her stiletto pumps. Silently she ran her hands over his
shoulders and down his back to his hard smooth butt, and she pulled him against her,
grasping his hard cock between her legs, moving very slightly back and forth so it slid
against her very wet pussy lips. "Kiss me," she commanded in a whisper. Fearful for his
life, Brian complied immediately. "Take my arms and hold them out, away from you,"
she ordered him, "Im going to have an orgasm and I dont want to deface your pristine
body…quite yet." Gingerly he held her wrists and spread her arms up and out. "Youll
need to hold me farther from my wrists, I can still reach you with my long nails," she
advised, "And hold tight, very tight. Im a lot stronger than you can imagine." Brian
gripped her forearms as Kitten slid her mound faster, back and forth along his cock.
"Ohhhhhhh, yesssss…" she moaned. She scraped her stiletto heel up and down the back
of his calf and Brian grimmaced. "Goddddddddd!" she screamed, and Brian clenched his
teeth and held on to her arms tightly as she struggled with surprising force. He watched
terrified as she opened and closed her fingers rapidly, clawing with her unbelievably-long
nails. As shed warned, she was surprisingly strong, and Brian had to summon every
ounce of strength in his rippling muscles to keep her at bay. "Its safe now," she said
relaxing. Immediately she shoved him onto the tattered, blood-stained mattress on his
back and held him down with her knee while she handcuffed his right hand to the cast-
iron bedpost. Kitten picked up his pants that were laying in a heap on the floor, and
sliced off the pocket button with a nail and plucked out his wallet. "Malibu, eh?" she
mused, looking at the address on his drivers license, "Sweet. I bet you live on the
beach...am I right?" Brian nodded slightly. "You live with your girlfriend?" she asked.
Brian froze with a terrified expression. "Whats her name?" Kitten asked. "Go ahead,
kill me!" he replied stoically. Kitten laughed. She took his iPhone from his front pocket.
"No wonder women keep their nails short these days. I hate these things," she said as her
long, strong, shockingly-sharp fingernails made a horrible screeching noise against the
touch screen, leaving deep scratches. "Ah, here it is! Melody! What a lovely name,"
Kitten said as the number was ringing. "Brian? Hello? Brian? Where are you? Ive been
waiting for you to get home!" the female voice answered. Kitten pressed a long nail
against "End". "Waiting there at home for you, all alone…how touching," Kitten mused
to Brian. "Please, Ill do anything, just leave her alone! Dont hurt her!" Brian begged.
She dropped Brians iPhone on the carpet and ground her stiletto heel through it. "I hope
shes into three-ways," she laughed as she walked away. "Noooo! Please! Dont!
Come back!" Brian screamed, yanking and struggling against his handcuffed wrist.
Kitten laughed at the sound of Brians handcuffs clanging against the hollow steel
bedpost as she walked to her bedroom to change clothes.
Dressed in a tight, black silk jumpsuit and elbow-length black gloves, Kitten turned on
the TV and there on CNN was "Breaking News" about her daring daylight robbery, and
the murders of the two employees and the two young women in the nearby parking
garage. Due to a passer-by having reported seeing a blond-haired woman in a floppy
pink hat entering the jewelry store, plus the grisly way her victims had been clawed to
death, had led the media to dub her "The Pink Panther" in a twisted homage to the movie
comedies. Kitten found that very amusing, very Hollywood, and was almost sorry shed
discarded the pink hat.
It was a clear, balmy night in L.A. and she took the Ferrari with the top down, knowing
that the darkness would conceal her features well enough that she could enjoy the open
air. She entered an address in the cars SAT-NAV, and followed the sexy female voices
directions up into the Hollywood hills. En route, she turned on her portable police-band
scanner. There was a general alert out for a woman in her late twenties to early thirties,
slightly-built, with short blond hair wearing a short white skirt and top. The reports
called her armed and dangerous. Kitten held out one arm and gazed at the elbow-length
black silk gloves which concealed her deadly long fingernails, and she smiled to herself
at the unintentional pun with the word armed. "Cops are such idiots," she muttered
with a laugh. Suddenly she heard a siren whoop twice, and saw the gumball lights flash
in her rearview mirror. Kitten glanced down at the speedometer and saw she was doing
65. "Shit! Fuck!" she cursed herself for not paying attention to her speed, and she pulled
over and took a deep breath and smiled. "Both hands on the wheel, please," the
policemans voice crackled over the P.A.. He approached her with one hand on his
holstered pistol, and a flashlight in the other. "Was I speeding officer? Im really sorry.
Its my boyfriends car and Im not used to it," she said sweetly. "License and
registration please," he said dryly. "Ooops…Im so sorry…I seem to have left my purse
at home! This is just not my night," Kitten said with a sexy smile. "Im going to have to
ask you to step out of the vehicle," the policeman said business-like. "Oh please
officer," Kitten whined, forcing tears to her haunting pale gray-blue eyes, "My boyfriend
is going to kill me! Cant you please just let me off with a warning…this time?" "Step
out of the vehicle and place your hands on the hood," he said curtly. Kitten seethed. She
opened the door and stepped out ready to attack, but the policeman had his gun drawn
and aimed at her. "Hands on the hood," he repeated. Kitten had no choice but to comply,
and the policeman quickly handcuffed her wrists behind her back. He ushered her
forward saying, "Youre under arrest for suspicion of theft of an automobile. You have
the right to remain silent…"
The policeman herded Kitten into the back of his police car and shut the door, and then
he got behind the wheel. Kitten began to moan as if she were in pain. "Whats wrong?"
the policeman asked. She began groaning, "I dont know…I think maybe…" and she
kicked off her shoes and curled up in the fetal position with her knees tucked against her
chest. Suddenly she gasped and fell over in the seat, motionless. "Hey! Hey! Are you
ok?" the policeman asked, but Kitten was silent and still. The officer grabbed his radio,
"This is car eight-ten, I need medical assistance. I have a woman in custody who
suddenly passed out and is unresponsive." "EMS dispatched…officer eight-ten, please
verify if subject is breathing and has a pulse," swawked the voice from the radio. "Ten-
four," he replied, and quickly got out of the car and opened the rear door. Kitten was still
motionless, in the fetal position with her knees tucked against her chest and she didnt
seem to be breathing. The young policeman leaned into the car cautiously to check her
for a pulse. Kittens eyes popped open, and the policeman instinctively reached for his
gun, but his reaction came just an instant too late. He staggered backward, screaming and
clutching his face, blood pouring between his fingers. "You cops always carry a backup
weapon…well, so do I," Kitten said coolly, wiggling her toes and admiring her long,
nearly-pointed blood-tinged toenails. She squirmed out of the police car and shoved him
with her knee and he fell on his back, still screaming and holding his badly-bleeding face.
She put her foot against his throat and dug her razor-sharp toenails in, until he stopped
gagging and his body went limp. Kitten ripped open the pocket of his shirt with her sharp
toenails and plucked his ring of keys, then she sat down on the seat and snaked her legs
through between her handcuffed wrists, then she deftly worked the key with her toes and
unlocked the cuffs. She could hear sirens in the distance as she put her stiletto-heeled
pumps back on and slipped behind the wheel of the Ferarri. "Cops are such idiots," she
muttered again, as she popped the clutch and sped off into the night.
Kitten valeted the Ferarri at a trendy restaurant not far from the same strip where shed
committed the robbery only a few hours earlier. She went inside, then returned outside
momentarily, mingling with a crowd of young, attractive diners, then slipping quietly into
the night camouflaged by her black clothing and hair. She walked into another jewelry
store just a few doors down from the one shed robbed earlier, smug in the confidence
that nobodyespecially the police, would ever think she would be so brazen as to come
back the same day and hit a store in the same block. In this store, there was a young male
salesperson with slick hair and a little goatee helping an equally young woman with too
much makeup and oversized, obviously surgally-enhanced boobs. "Were closing in five
minutes," the security guard said through the glass door. "Im just here to pick up a ring I
had sized," Kitten said. "Im sorry, youll have to come back tomorrow," the guard
hollered. Kitten looked up at him and her lip quivered. "My sister is getting married in
San Diego tomorrow and I have an 8AM flight, and shes counting on me to bring the
ring!" she pleaded. "Oh, well, in that case…" he said unlatching the door. "Thank
you,"she said warmly as she entered. "Dont mention it," the guard said, "Were all a
little on edge after what happened this morning at the jewelry store down the block."
"Yes, I saw that on TV," Kitten said with an alarmed look, "Theyre calling her The
Pink Panther." "Yeah. I thought those old movies were hysterical, but there sure aint
nothin funny about that chick, thats for sure!" the guard chuckled. "I doubt she would
take kindly to being called a chick," Kitten said. "Yeah, well, tell you the truth I
wouldnt call her that to her face," he chuckled. "Well, how do you know Im not her?"
Kitten smiled. "A sweet thing like you?" he laughed, "Besides, youre not wearing
pink." "Actually, I am," Kitten whispered with a flirtatious bat of her thick, dark lashes
that framed her icy gray-blue eyes, and she turned privately to the guard and teased down
the waist of her black silk pants a couple inches, revealing her flat stomach and diamond-
studded navel…and a tiny pink string thong. "Mmmmm, hot!" the guard grinned, "But
the Pink Panther has claws." A smile curled on Kittens lips as she thrust her hands up
quickly, and her incredibly-long razor-sharp fingernails burst through the fingers of her
black silk gloves. "Like these?" she asked just before she raked the guards face swiftly,
and then as he fell to the ground with a scream, holding his face with blood pouring
through his fingers, she reached down and clutched her nails into his throat.
Like lightning, Kitten grabbed the young woman customer from behind, and pointed a
nail menacingly at the salesman. "Dont try anything or her death is on you," she said
with an evil stare. "Look, I just work here. Take anything you want, I wont try and stop
you," he said. "I intend to," Kitten said, "Whether you try to stop me or not." "Put all
your diamonds in this bag," she said handing him her black silk purse. As he complied,
Kitten rested her chin on her hostages neck and smiled. "Whats your name?" she asked
sweetly. "Brie," she said weakly. "How original," Kitten said sarcastically. She gazed
down the young womans tanned, toned legs to her open-toed shoes. "Nice pedicure,"
Kitten complimented. "T-thanks," Brie said, her voice trembling. "Some idiot cop tried
to arrest me and made me ruin mine," Kitten sighed slipping her foot out of her stiletto-
heeled pump. "Oh God," Brie gasped, seeing Kittens very long, nearly-pointed toenails
which were caked with dried blood. "You have gorgeous legs, too," Kitten commented.
"T-thanks," Brie repeated, beginning to shake. "Such perfect skin," Kitten whispered.
Brie let out a chilling shriek as Kitten slowly dragged her razor-sharp toenails up the
young womans leg, leaving a trail of five thin, deep, crimson cuts. The salesman looked
up from filling Kittens purse with diamonds. "Hurry up, I have plans for the evening,"
Kitten said to him impatiently. He glanced quickly at Bries bleeding leg, then into her
terrified eyes, and then went back to his task.
"Here, its all there. Take it!" the salesman said as he handed Kitten her purse stuffed
with diamonds, "Just please dont hurt me." "Thank you, youve been very obedient,"
she said, taking the bag and setting it on the counter. She pushed Brie to her knees and
commanded, "Stay!" "In fact, I want to give you a tip." He swallowed hard and
mustered a nervous smile and said, "Thats ok," as he began backing away from her.
Cornering the terrified young man against the wall, Kitten took his face between her
hands, her unbelievably-long sharp nails protruding through the fingers of her elbow-
length black silk gloves, and whispered, "In fact Im going to give you…ten tips." When
Brie heard the salesmans scream of anguish and saw him slump lifeless to the floor, she
screamed and began crawling on the floor toward the door. "I said, Stay," Kitten said
coolly, pointing a blood-dripping long fingernail at the young woman. Brie turned
around and fell on her butt, kicking her legs and trying to crawl backwards, hysterical.
Kitten walked calmly toward her. "Stand up," she ordered. Sobbing, Brie stumbled to
her feet. "I love killing men," Kitten said, "Killing women, not so much." Brie was
white with terror. "Especially when theyre just in the wrong place at the wrong time,"
Kitten continued. Brie clasped her hands together in prayer and dropped to her knees
sobbing. "Even an awesome profession like mine has its down moments," Kitten
lamented, and she bent down and gave Brie a long, deep kiss just before she whisked her
lethally-sharp nails across her throat.
Kitten walked nonchalantly out the door and disappeared into the shadows. She handed
her claim check to the valet and smiled at his shocked expression when he saw her
fingernails sticking several inches out of the fingers of her black gloves. "You are soooo
fucking hot!" he gasped. "You have no idea," she whispered. In a few moments he
brought the red Ferrari around and hopped out. "Do you have a girlfriend?" she asked
the valet. "Yes," he answered. "Well…when you fuck her tonight, youll be fantasizing
about me," she stated to the valet with a toss of her radiant black hair, "Call her Kitten.
Its my name, but she wont know." "Ok!" he agreed. She slipped behind the wheel and
the valet closed her door. She put the car in gear, and he cleared his throat, holding out
his upturned hand. "Oh my, how forgetful of me!" Kitten exclaimed with a penetrating
stare of her pale gray-blue eyes. She reached out her gloved hand with a sexy arc of her
fingers and raked her razor-sharp nails across his palm. As the Ferarri roared out of the
lot, Kitten glanced in the rearview mirror and laughed as she watched him down on his
knees holding his bleeding hand.
A few blocks away, Kitten passed a trendy L.A. club. Still high on the robbery and
killings, she had a strong desire to do some coke, and she spotted a three beautiful young
women getting into a limo, and she pulled into the empty spot in front of them and
backed up almost to the bumper, and she got out. The limo driver opened the window
and shouted, "Hey! You blocked me in!" Kitten slowly peeled off her gloves and tossed
them onto the seat of the Ferarri and walked over to the open window. "Move your car,
lady!" the driver said. Kitten bent down and rested her folded her arms on the window
sill. "I said, Move your car," the limo driver repeated in a loud voice. "I heard you just
fine," she said coolly, "Now, try it again, only this time say Please." Used to L.A.
divas, the driver sighed and said, "Sorry. Will you pl…" But he never lived to finish his
sentence.
Kitten stepped around to the side and tapped on the darkened window. It hummed and
lowered, and one of the young women leaned her arm on the sill said an annoyed, "Yes?"
"Share some of your coke with me," Kitten said. "No way!" the young bleach-blond said
with a nasty turn of her nose into the air. "Actually, it was an order, not a request,"
Kitten said. "Fuck you!" the girl said and quickly raised the dark-tinted window. Kitten
laughed. Her index nail made a horrific screeching sound as she scribed a six-inch circle
on the glass. She could hear muffled screams from inside. She gave the window a quick
hit with the heel of her hand, and the circular piece of glass fell in. Kitten reached inside,
opened the door and quickly got inside and closed the door behind her. "What the fuck!"
the blond said, "This is a private party!" "So add me to the guest list," Kitten said with a
cocky smile. "No way!" the girl snapped. "In that case Ill just have to scratch one of
you off," Kitten said with a smile, punctuating her remark with a quick rake of her
fingernails down the girls face. For a second the girl sat there frozen, and then as if by
magic, four thin lines appeared from her forehead to her chin, and they began to bleed
profusely. She clapped her hands to her face and screamed, and the other two girls also
let out blood-chilling screams. One of them, with short, blue-streaked hair, lowered the
privacy glass and shouted, "Help! Driver!" "Im afraid he cant answer," Kitten said
shaking her head, "Sore throat." The girl peered into the front and saw the driver lying
dead with four gaping red gashes from ear to ear, and she screamed at the top of her
lungs. "Now…about that coke," Kitten said with an evil look in her icy gray-blue eyes
framed by thick, black lashes.
Kitten prepared two lines on a hand-mirror on the console in the limo, and quickly
snorted them one after the other. She licked up the residue from the mirror and sat back.
"By the way, Im Mary-Kate," she said, "But since were friends, you can call me
Kitten." The blond girl was holding her face, rocking back and forth and moaning, "It
hurts, it hurts." "What are your names?" Kitten asked, ignoring the cries. The girl with
blue-streaked hair said, "Mines Tiffany," and she nodded to the brunette to her right and
said, "Shes Steffi," and then nodded to her left, "And the one you clawed with your
skank-ass ghetto acrylics is Molly." Kitten narrowed her pale gray-blue eyes and leaned
forward in the dark limo. "Theyre not acrylics," Kitten whispered, seething with rage,
displaying her fingers in front of Tiffanys face. "Oh my God!" Tiffany gasped, seeing
that Kittens incredibly-long nearly-pointed nails were real. "And it was only a gentle
little scratch," Kitten continued. Tiffany gulped, as if she were about to throw up. "This
is clawed," Kitten concluded, burying her nails in Tiffanys bare thighs down to the bone
and, while she sat up, ploughed them through her flesh to her knees. "You should watch
who you call a skank," Kitten said with a vengeful smirk as Tiffany rolled on the limos
floor shrieking as her lifes blood spurted from her mutilated thighs. "So, youre kind of
quiet," Kitten said sweetly, turning toward Steffi and ignoring the mayhem of the other
two girls. Steffi cowered in the corner of the seat in shock. "I like quiet girls," Kitten
said warmly, taking her hand. "Oh, my! Your hands are like ice! And youre shaking!
Come here, baby, let me hold you and keep you warm," Kitten said comfortingly. Steffi
whimpered and cowered. "I said to come here," Kitten said with sudden coolness. Steffi
drew a quick breath and squeaked, looking down at where Kittens nails had barely
touched her arm, and yet had broken the skin and left her bleeding. Swallowing hard,
Steffi came across and sat next to Kitten. Kitten brushed back the girls brown hair with
her alarmingly-long thumbnail, and caressed her cheek with the back of her hand.
"Please dont hurt me," she said in an almost-inaudible whisper, "Ill do anything you
want, to please you." Kitten smiled and licked her lips. Steffi began unbuttoning her
blouse. "Just dont hurt me, ok?" she said. "Well, there is just one little problem," Kitten
said, "The kinds of things that please me…hurt." "Oh God, no…." Steffi sobbed as
Kitten embraced her and she felt those sharp fingernails prick painfully into her back.
"I enjoyed that immensely," Kitten smiled as she zipped up her tight black silk jumpsuit,
"Youre quite good." Steffi lay on the limo seat, winded, her naked body covered with
hundreds of shallow, bleeding scratches. She was weeping softly. "I know you want
more of me, but Im afraid I have to go," Kitten said leaning down to give her a tender
kiss. Tiffany lay motionless on the floor in a pool of her blood, and Molly sat in
catatonic shock, her hands in her lap, the four scratches down her face having stopped
bleeding but now angry and inflamed. "Im sorry we didnt have a chance to party,"
Kitten said to Molly, "Nice boobs by the way. Silicone or saline?" "Saline," she
answered robotically, "Silicone can leak." Kitten leaned in and whispered, "So can
saline." Mollys eyes suddenly sprang open with terror. Kitten sank her nails into
Mollys boobs and quickly withdrew them, and she pressed with her palms and watched
them deflate as water spurted from the nail punctures. "See," Kitten said. She picked up
the vial of cocaine and a straw, got out of the limo, and drove off in the Ferrari.
It was after midnight when Kitten pulled into the garage at the Brentwood mansion shed
taken over. "Hi honey, Im home!" she called as she came in from the garage. She heard
the sound of Brians handcuffs rattling against the cast-iron bedpost in the master
bedroom and smiled to herself. Kitten slapped her stuffed purse down on the shredded
mattress and opened it for Brian to see the contents. "I had a good day at work," she
smiled, "And now Im ready to play." "Melody? Did you? Is she?" he cried, kicking
and flailing his legs and one free arm. "Relax. I didnt have time to drive all the way out
to Malibu and back," Kitten said, then she leaned over him, "Your girlfriend is fine…for
the time being anyway. But if you hope to keep her that way, I expect you to do your
utmost to please me." "Fine. Ok. No problem," he agreed quickly. "Oh, I think youll
find it isnt as easy as you think. Youre gorgeous, and youve undoubtedly laid a lot of
women, but my tastes and needs are…shall we say, extraordinary?" Kitten smiled,
stretching her arms in a slow, cat-like manner, turning and modelling her fingers and
extremely-long, sublimely-feminine fingernails. Even as he shuddered from fear of
Kittens lethal nails, Brian recognized that he was becoming turned on against his will.
He watched her slowly unzip her black silk jumpsuit and step out of it. He was shocked
when he saw her barefoot for the first time, that her toenails were also unusually long,
almost pointed, and clearly very sharp. He also noticed they were tinged with dried
blood, as were her amazingly-long fingernails. "Let me freshen up a bit," she said
looking at her nails, and turned toward the bathroom. "When we make love I dont want
any blood on my nails," she said momentarily pausing at the door, and with a lust-filled
stare, "Except your blood."
Brian heard the shower run for a long time, and finally the bathroom door opened and
Kitten leaned against the jamb shrouded in a cloud of steam. She walked toward the bed,
slowly placing one foot in front of the other so that her hips swayed seductively. Her
long black hair was dripping wet and clung to her sexy body. She looked at him with
desire in her pale gray-blue eyes, and slowly blinked her thick, black lashes. Kitten sat
down fluidly on the edge of the bed, and began applying lotion to her legs and feet.
Every so often she cast Brian a sexy glance, watching his large cock standing rock-
straight and how it twitched slightly whenever she stared at him and licked her lips.
Kitten took a padded emery file from her makeup case and gently followed the shape of
her exceptionally-long toenails to their nearly-pointed tips, and then slowly did the same
with her lethal, unbelievably-long fingernails,. "I want this to be a very special night for
me," Kitten said retrieving the vial of cocaine from her purse, and she prepared four lines
on her hand-mirror using the edge of her nearly-three-inch pinkie nail. She snorted two
lines, and held the other two under Brians nose while she held the straw near one of his
nostrils. "N-no!" he cried, turning his head. "Rehab?" she asked. He nodded.
"Everyone in L.A. goes back more than once," she said putting the straw into his nostril,
"But if youd rather, I could put it up your nose with my nail. That would be a pity,
because you have such a handsome nose." Reluctantly, Brian snorted the coke. "Here,"
she said, placing two Viagra pills in the palm of her hand and bringing it to his mouth. "I
dont need that," he said. "Maybe not the first two or three times, but after that you
will…and Ill get very pissy if I have to wait a half hour for it to kick in," she said. "Isnt
two too much? Isnt that dangerous?" he asked. "Compared to what?" Kitten smiled,
posturing her incredibly long, sharp fingernails in front of his face. Brian swallowed the
two little blue pills. "Relax, this is going to be the best night of your life," Kitten said
massaging her large, hard nipples, "And if you perform well, it might not be your last."
Kitten reached into her case and pulled out a leather belt about two feet long and three
inches wide with a metal swivel and clip on one end. Brians eyes widened. "Its not a
whip," Kitten laughed. Kitten attached the clip to the bedpost and stretched the leather
belt taut with one hand. One by one she ran the side edges of each of her nails up and
down the length of the leather, stropping them like a barber does a straight-razor. When
she switched hands, she turned to Brian and whispered, "Now you know my secret…but
dont tell anyone!" Kitten caressed Brians smooth, sculpted chest and perfectly-defined
six-pack abs with the back of her hand. "Sex sometimes disappoints me, compared to
slicing someone up with my nails which always gets me off like a rocket," Kitten
informed him, "So I rarely bother to fuck anyone, unless theyre exceedingly hot like
yourself. If youd been any less gorgeous, by now your body would be in the freezer
with the others." Brian was sick to his stomach with fear, and grateful to the cocaine and
double dose of Viagra that his strong erection was unaffected. "I hope you appreciate the
honor Im about to bestow upon you," Kitten said as she swung one leg over his vertical
cock and lowered herself down slowly onto it. "Ohhhhhhhhh, fuck yes!" she moaned.
Brian watched bits of mattress fly as she groped and clawed with her unimaginably-sharp
finger- and toenails, coming dangerously close to his body. "Yesssssss!" she screamed,
and fell forward against him panting. Examining a few superficial scratches shed left on
his arms and legs, Brian sighed with relief that it hadnt been as painful as he thought it
would be. Then Kitten slid her arms under him and he felt ten sharp pricks in the small
of his back. "Lets rock," she whispered.
The next morning Brian opened his eyes slowly, adjusting to the light. His body felt like
it was on fire, and when he looked down he was shocked at what he saw. Thousands of
scratches covered his body like a red carpet. Some were short, some very long. Some
were shallow and scabbed, others were open and bleeding. He could feel his face and
neck burning too, even his scalp. "Shit!" he gasped, seeing his flaccid penis lying against
his thigh, with long scratches running the length of his shaft. "Arent you going to thank
me?" Kitten said. He looked up and it took him a moment before his eyes would focus.
She was dressed, her suitcase next to her, and a large duffle bag slung over her shoulder.
"Thank you?" he asked groggy. "Youre still alive," she pointed out, "And obviously,
last night was the best sex youve ever had, or ever will have." "Youre going? Youre
not coming back?" Brian asked, trying to shake off the fog in his head and the burning
pain over his entire body. "I think it was how pristine your body looked that got me so
hot for you," Kitten said, "But now…well, I mean, look at you." Kitten turned and began
to walk away. "Wait! How about these handcuffs?" he pleaded. Kitten just laughed.
"Youre not going to just leave me here? Ill starve to death!" Brian cried. "No you
wont," Kitten smiled as she stood in the doorway, "A strong, healthy man like you can
last quite a while without food. Its water you cant live without. Youre going to thirst
to death." "No! Dont leave me! Come back! Noooooo!" Brian screamed. "Sorry. Im
running late. And I still need to stop in Malibu on my way and…say good-by to
Melody," Kitten smiled, licking her lips and admiring her unbelievably-long, lethally-
sharp fingernails.
-
Red Nails
Red Nails
He arrived home late again. He noticed that she had set a special meal and had planned an evening.In the bedroom he notices that his bedside light has been left on, but she appears to be asleep.He goes to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Drying himself off after his shower he enter the bedroom and gently drops into bed.Lying with his back propped up by his pillows; he reaches to turn off the light, when he feels her hand on his chest.Looking down he sees her white hand resting between his nipples. At the end of each finger is a lovely tapered nail that had been freshly lacquered with red polish. Nails that are bright, shiny and wet looking. Nails that are just long enough to be sexy.One of her fingers trails down his chest, circling his nipples, raising them to points and then moving slowly to his navel. At his navel she gently presses her nail into the dimple and swirls it around. His breath catches at the feeling.His manhood stirs and begins to thicken. Red always excites him. Long nails always excite him. The two together drive him toward the edge.She moves her hand back up his chest. Flattening it so he can see the red tips as they play over him. He watches her hand as she makes it into a claw and gently rakes it across his nipples and down his chest, making him hiss at the sensations that rocket through him. She drags her nails down his chest and onto his stomach and stops short of his groin.His cock jumps and twitches. It lengthens and hardens.She gathers his balls into her hand and rolls them to and fro. Pulling on them, she cages them inside her fingers and lets them run through the bright red bars of her nails until they escape to freedom.She trails a finger up the length of his rigidness. He watches entranced as the shiny red tip circles the knob of his cock. Around and around until a drop of glistening pre-cum moistens her fingertip.Capturing it she slowly brings it to her mouth. Her pink tongue snakes through her red lips and catches the drop before it falls.He watches mesmerized as she slides her red tipped finger in and out of her mouth to make it wet. He watches as it leaves her red lips and travels to his body.She glides her wet finger down over his cock and watches it jump as the wetness from her finger dries.She cages him with her fingers, pulling her hand up his shaft, raking her nails along all sides of him. She can see the beat of his heart in the pulse of the veins on his penis. She watches, as he trusts his hips into her hand begging for more.Straddling his legs, she places both of her hands on his chest and runs her nails softly over it. She makes sure that she rakes across his nipples and causes the wonderful pleasure/pain that he so enjoys.Applying more pressure she scrapes her nails down his chest leaving trails of red marks. She makes several passes down his chest to make sure that all areas have received her loving attention.Easing herself off his legs, she applies pressure with her hands, indicating that he should open himself to her. With his compliance he is completely open to her touch. She scrapes her nails down his thighs to his knees. He watches as the red nails run through the hairs on his legs, enjoying the red being brushed by threads of brown. She rakes across his balls and trails her fingers down to the area between his sack and anus. Gently she rakes the area and smiles as his ass tightens and he groans feeling the pressure inside of him build. She makes several passes, bringing moans each time. He is turgid and his cockhead glistens with the oozing of his pre-cum, as it turns red with the desire for release.Her hands with the long red tapered nails lift him up and roll his hardness between them. She always makes sure that he can see the flashing of the nails in the light. Moistening her palms with his crystal clear juices she grasps and tugs. Using more pressure she quickens the friction always gathering more of his moistness.She feels him tense getting ready for his release. She runs her nails across his cock and balls again. Scraping the tip of him. She watches as he trembles and shakes, as he tenses and releases his passion. Together they watch as white creamy pearls of his cum run across her red nails.
-
Reunion
Reunion…by JK Sangfroid
Two young men in their early twenties pulled into the nearly-empty parking lot of their
old high school.
"Dude, are you sure you got the date right?"
"Yeah dude, Im sure. Got the invitation right here in my pocket."
"It looks like nobody else is here. Lets just forget it."
"There are lights on inside and I see a few cars in the lot. At least lets go inside and grab
some free beers and then leave."
"Ok, sounds like a plan."
Inside they could hear the sound of music playing off in the distance, and there was a
colorful banner strung overhead which read Five Year Reunion In Gym. The two
young men shrugged and headed down the hallway. In front of the gym doors was a
small folding table with a box of blank peel-and-stick name tags and several black marker
pens, and a cardboard placard that read Please make a name tag and come on in! The
two men looked at each other and laughed. "Lame," one of them said while he wrote
Rick Johnson on a tag and stuck it to his shirt. "Totally," his friend agreed, printing
Brad Martin on his nametag. Then the two of them went inside the gym. They saw that
the folding stage was in place that they remembered the drama club used to set up in the
gym for their awful performances, and the black curtains were drawn. The wrestling
mats were spread out on the gym floor, and there was an old boom box, which was the
source of the music theyd heard. But there were no other people around.
"This is weird, dude," Brad said. "Totally weird," Rick said. He shouted, "Hey!
Anybody here? Yo!" But there was no answer, just the music blaring from the boom
box. "Lets get out of here," Brad said with disgust in his voice, "This is a total waste of
time. I dont even see any fucking beer!" Just then the gym doors burst open and three
more young men walked in. Rick squinted at them, and at their name tags. "Jeff? Jeff
Harris?" he asked. "Rick! And Brad! Oh, man, its great to see you guys!" Jeff
exclaimed, "You guys remember Todd Wilson and Bobby Rice." "Sure! Great to see
you guys!" Brad said, as the five young men bumped fists. "Hey dudes, where is
everybody else?" Bobby asked. "Fuck that, where are the girls?" Jeff shouted with a
hearty laugh. "And the beer!" Todd chimed in. "This sucks," Rick said, "Lets all go to
the bar and have our own reunion." "Awesome, dude!" Bobby exclaimed, "Lets get the
fuck out of here."
At that moment the lights went off, and there was a loud screech of feedback from the PA
system. "Welcome to the five year reunion," came a female voice. "All right! There are
girls here!" Jeff chuckled quietly. Spotlights suddenly went on that blinded the five
young men. "Im glad you all came. Were going to have a lot of fun tonight," the
female voice said over the loudspeaker, "Well, at least I am." "Where is everybody
else?" Brad yelled. "Its just us. Cozy isnt it?" the female voice blared. "Ok, were
outa here," Rick said to the others and they all strode quickly to the door. "Its stuck!"
Bobby said rattling the handle. Several of the young men shouldered the heavy doors
with all their weight but they held solidly. "Stuck my ass," Jeff said, "Theyre locked.
Someones locked us in." "Hey! What the fuck is going on?" Brad shouted, "This
someones idea of a joke?" Musical laughter rang out over the PA and the female voice
said, "I find it very amusing. But I assure you, its no joke."
The five young men looked at each other with a mixture of confusion and fear. They
tried to muscle the heavy gym doors again to no avail, and laughter rang out over the
loudspeaker again. "Who are you?" Rick called out. "My name is Lauren. Lauren
Midnight." the voice answered. He turned to the others and asked, "Anybody remember
a Lauren Midnight from high school?" and they all shook their heads. They heard the
curtains start to open and they turned toward the stage, trying to shield their eyes against
the blaring lights trained at them. Suddenly the lights went off, and a single spotlight
illuminated center stage. There on a white folding chair sat a young woman with her
back to them. All they could see was her long black hair draped over the back of the
chair, falling well past the seat. She turned her face slowly toward the men and held the
microphone to her mouth. "You boys dont recognize me?" she asked, her voice
booming over the speakers at near-deafening volume, forcing the men to cover their ears.
The men looked at each other and shrugged, and then she set the microphone down and
she stood and slowly walked toward the front of the stage, placing one long, shapely leg
in front of the other like a runway model, which accentuated the sway of her hips. They
elbowed each other and nodded in approval as they perceived how hot and sexy this
mysterious woman was. They could see that she was wearing only a black leotard and
black satin slippers. The men formed a loose half-circle in front of her, checking her out
from top to bottom. She stood with her arms behind her waist, shoulders back and head
up, her voluptuous breasts high and firm inside her tight, low-cut leotard. Brad was first
to speak. "We really dont remember you…and believe me, there would be no way any
of us couldve forgotten someone named Lauren Midnight who looked like you!" The
beautiful young woman suggested, "What if Id been skinny and flat-chested, with thick
glasses and braces and acne and frizzy hair and bit my nails till they bled?" "Like thats
possible!" they laughed. She laughed too, but then she paced up to Jeff Harris slowly,
until she was mere inches from him, and said, "What if back then my name wasnt
Lauren Midnight? What if it was Louise Mapleton?"
The men suddenly grew silent. Finally Jeff spoke up, "Maypole Mapleton? No fucking
way! Who are you really? Someone she put up to this no doubt." "I helped you pass
algebra freshman year. I came to your house every night," she said with an eerie
calmness, "One night we were up in your room and you got all the problems right and I
got excited and put my arms around you and kissed you. Do you remember what you
said and did, Jeff? I do. You said, Gross! and wiped your mouth with your sleeve."
Jeff looked down and shuffled his feet and muttered, "Im sorry Maypole. If Id
known…" "What?" she asked, "If youd known I was going to turn out this hot you
wouldnt have crushed and humiliated me when we were fifteen?" "Thats not what I
meant," he insisted, but the fact he was almost drooling over her belied his words. "You
wouldnt mind if I kissed you now, would you, Jeff? In fact, youre dying to kiss me,
arent you?" Lauren purred. Jeff blushed and shrugged and nodded. "Its ok Jeff. I
understand how the world is. Otherwise, I wouldnt have spent a hundred grand on
plastic surgery." "Well, you definitely got your moneys worth," Jeff said leering at her
body, "So is that why you got us all here trapped in the gym Maypole?...just to show us
youre not skinny with frizzy hair and glasses anymore?" Jeff laughed and shot a glance
back over his shoulders at the other men and they all laughed. But in the next instant, his
laughter abruptly changed to a chilling scream that echoed from every corner of the
empty gym. He dropped to his knees clutching his face, which felt like it was on fire.
"Jesus Christ!" the other men cried, frozen in their tracks, staring in disbelieving shock at
blood trickling through Jeffs fingers, and then at Lauren. She stood with her hands
poised like a demons, and from the ends of her fingers projected what looked like the
long, curved and sharpened talons of a falcon, their needle-pointed tips glistening with
crimson droplets. "I also stopped biting my nails," she said with an evil smirk, "And
heres a free beauty tip: Calling me Maypole is very bad for your skin." And she broke
into peals of laughter.
"Chick is nuts," Todd whispered to Bobby, "Lets get outa here!" "How do you suggest
we do that, moron?" Bobby asked him back, "Were locked-in." "Hey, Lauren, now that
youve had your revenge on Jeff, how about letting the rest of us out of here?" Todd
asked her. "If all I wanted was Jeff, dont you wonder why I invited all of you here? No,
I guess you dont. You really are a moron, like Bobby said," she laughed. "Fuck you,
bitch," Todd retorted. "Not likely," Lauren chuckled, "You had your chance back when
we were seniors. I was totally in love with you. But you didnt even know I existed.
You were too busy nailing the cheerleading squad." "Look, if its any consolation, Id
like to nail you now," Todd said. "Mmm, would you?" Lauren purred and she walked up
to Todd and put her arms around his neck . "Watch those claws!" he said fearfully.
"These claws?" she asked sweetly, stroking his neck very lightly with the needle-sharp
points of her incredibly-long curved fingernails. "Damn!" he groaned, as he got instantly
hard. Lauren laughed seductively and rubbed her knee into his crotch and licked around
his ear. "God damn!" Todd gasped. Lauren whispered in his ear, "Now its my turn to
nail you," and she sank her nails into his neck and backed away from him, pulling her
unbelievably-long curved sharpened talons around both sides of his neck and down his
chest, shredding his t-shirt and leaving a trail of deep, bleeding incisions. Todd let out a
high-soprano scream and fell to his knees staring at the blood on his palms, and clutched
at his chest that she had sliced open. Lauren laughed, "Lets add bitch to the list of
names it isnt smart to call me."
Rick stepped forward and began reasoning with Lauren. "Look, if you unlock the gym
and let us go now, we can all forget about this. Lets just all leave before something
really bad happens," he said. "Nobodys leaving before lots of bad things happen," she
said resolutely, "My hatred of the five of you was what got me through years of painful
surgery and thousands of hours at the gym. I intend to thank each of you properly." And
she punctuated it with a savage downstroke of her long, curved and pointed nails.
"Please…" Rick implored her extending his hand, but yanked it back just in time to miss
taking the full hit of a vicious swipe of her talons. They barely glanced over his sleeve,
yet left four long tears and four crimson lines on his arm. "Look, Lauren, we dont want
to have to hurt you, but theres several of us and were a lot stronger than you are," Rick
warned her. Lauren laughed, "Look at what I did to Jeff and Todd just toying with
them." The others looked at their two wounded friends, with long, gaping scratches and
blood-soaked shirts, and they swallowed hard. "On three! One, two, three!" Rick said to
Bobby and Brad, and they lunged at Lauren. "Fuck!" Brad screamed, holding his hand
which was bleeding profusely. So quickly he hadnt even seen her do it, Laurens rapier-
sharp nails had sliced him down to the bone. Lauren said sarcastically, "Oh, please dont
hurt me you guys!" "Grab her arms!" Rick yelled to Bobby, and they both came at
Lauren. She laughed at them, flailing her hands so quickly they were just a blur
accompanied by the sound of her curved talons slashing the air. "Itd be like sticking
your hand in a fan!" Bobby cried. "Wait!" Lauren said, and she put one hand behind her
back, "Is this fairer you think?" Rick made a grab for the arm she had behind her, but she
caught his bicep with her free hand and sank her curved nails all the way in as if his
muscle was made of butter. He screamed like an infant as she slowly forced him to his
knees. "Take them out! Take them out!" he shrieked. "Are you sure?" she asked with a
compassionate look. "Take them out!" Rick cried. "Ask me nicely," she said. "Please!
Take your nails out of me! Oh God, Im begging you!" Rick screamed. "Ok," Lauren
shrugged, and ripped her hand back, her curved fingernails tearing through his flesh as
she did, leaving Rick bawling and writhing on the floor. "Oh? Did that hurt?" she asked
with an improbable note of caring, then she threw her head back and laughed.
Jeff stumbled to his feet, able to see out of only one eye because blood from a deep
scratch on his forehead was dripping into his other eye. He grabbed Lauren from behind
shouting, "Ive got her! Ive got her!" But his triumph was short-lived, and in the next
breath he was screaming, "Oh fuck! Somebody help me! Somebody hit her! Knock her
out!" as Lauren clawed the skin from his arms with one hand while she reached up
behind her and, shrieking with sadistic laughter, raked his face with her insanely-sharp
nails. Before any of the others could get close enough to help, Lauren spun around and
sank her nails into his throat. "I was so in love with you back then," she said through
gritted teeth, then she laughed, "But Im pretty sure Im over it now." Jeff gagged and
gurgled. The others stood ready to aid their friend, but Lauren pointed a talon at them
and warned, "Take another step and Ill be forced to rip his throat out. And that would
piss me off, because I want him to suffer and die slowly." "Someone call 911!" Brad
cried, and suddenly it dawned on the others, and they all whipped out their cell phones.
Lauren laughed, "Do you think Id be that careless? Theres no signal in here." Little by
little Jeffs struggling and gagging lessened, and he slumped to the floor. Lauren slowly
extracted her curved claws from his throat and tossed back her long black hair with a
satisfied expression.
Taking advantage of Laurens momentary distraction, Todd jumped to his feet and
grabbed her wrists and held her arms above her head. She writhed and struggled but she
couldnt break free from his strong grip. He held her hands far enough from him that she
couldnt get her claws into him, although her nails were so long that she was still able to
make shallow scratches, which she did repeatedly. "Shit! It hurts! I cant hold her for
long! Go see if you can find something to pry open the door," Todd shouted. Brad, Rick
and Bobby ran to various corners of the gym to see what they could find. "Todd? Do
you like riddles?" Lauren whispered. "Huh?" Todd asked. "What are razor-sharp and
pointed and can tear your face off, but are not my fingernails?" Lauren asked. "Huh?!"
Todd asked again, louder. "You really are a moron arent you," Lauren sighed, "Ok, Ill
tell you." Hanging by her wrists from Todds grip, Lauren tucked her knees against her
chest and with the grace of a trapeze artist, swung her legs up and caught Todds face
between her feet. "The answer is: my toenails!" she exclaimed with a laugh. He caught a
momentary glimpse of her toenails, curved and pointed like her fingernails, ripped
through her leotard feet, just before she dug them into his temples and raked them harshly
down the sides of his face. Todd let out a blood-curdling cry and let go of Laurens
wrists, and in the blinking of an eye she had her fingernails into his throat as shed done
to Jeff. The others heard Todds anguished screams, but by the time they got to him he
was drawing his last, labored breaths.
"Noooooo!" Brad raged at Lauren, and without regard for himself he threw a body tackle
on her and had her on the ground under his two hundred fifty pound weight. Lauren
wasnt moving. "Shes out!" Brad cried, looking at her limp body and closed eyes, "I got
her! Shes out cold! Woooo hooo!" Brad started to get up, when suddenly Laurens eyes
popped open and she smirked at him. "Oh shit," Brad said. Rick and Bobby came
running just in time to watch Lauren reach around Brads back and rip through his shirt
and skin with her razor-sharp talons. The two rolled around on the mat, back and forth,
Brad screaming and Lauren laughing, clawing him again and again until he was a mass of
bloody gashes. Still laughing, she rolled him over and sat up and began to tear at his
chest with her needle-sharp pointed fingernails. Rick jumped on the stage and grabbed
the folding chair and raced to Brads aid. She put her fingers around Brads throat and
said, "Be a good boy and put the chair down." "Fuck you," Rick said and he raised it
over his head and swung it down. But Lauren rolled to the side, ripping her long curved
nails through Brads throat, and the chair came crashing down on Brads lifeless body.
"Damn you! I didnt want to kill him yet. He hadnt suffered enough. Now youve
really pissed me off!" Lauren said angrily jumping to her feet, "And Im not a very nice
person when Im pissed off!"
Lauren spun a kick at Ricks head, but he managed to jump back. Her razor-sharp
toenails swiped across his midsection, slicing his shirt open and leaving four gaping
wounds across his stomach. He took off running, but in a heartbeat Lauren landed on
him, knocking him face-first to the ground, with her talons buried into his shoulder.
Flopping like a fish in the clutches of an eagle, Rick managed somehow to will himself
to block the pain and struggled to his knees, when Lauren reached down from behind
with one hand, and with wild laughter she grabbed his crotch with her unbelievably-long
curved, sharpened fingernails. Bobby came running up brandishing the chair, and Lauren
shot him a menacing stare and said, "Take another step and he becomes a she." Bobby
froze in his tracks. "When you used to pass me in the hall, and youd look right past me
like I wasnt there, it used to give me this horrible aching in the pit of my stomach,"
Lauren said quietly into Ricks ear. "I…Im sorry!" he gasped through the pain of her
sharp talons stabbing his genitals like fishhooks. "You cant be sorry!" she screamed,
"You dont know how much it hurt! The pain in my gut was excruciating…sort of like
this." Lauren reached around in front of Rick and clutched her unbelievably-long,
curved, pointed fingernails into his stomach, twisting and wrenching. Rick gasped and
screamed and struggled to pull her hand away. She dug her other nails deeper into his
crotch, and brought her foot up on his hip to hold him down. "Struggling will only make
me hurt you more," she advised, and she smirked, "So please, struggle as much as you
can." Laurens sharp-pointed toenails popped through the fabric of his jeans and dug into
his thigh, and she clawed him deep and slow. Rick howled in agony, and Lauren
laughed, "I didnt quite catch that…what? Oh, you like my pedicure? Thanks, its sweet
of you to notice!" Lauren extracted her claws from his stomach. "I think thats enough,"
she said. "Th..thank y-you," Rick gasped, clutching his belly, blood from her nail
wounds soaking his hands. "Dont mention it," she whispered in his ear, stroking his
neck gently and slowly with the needle-sharp points of her extremely-long fingernails.
"Oooooh…" she murmured, feeling his cock harden despite her painful claw-grip,
"Someones secretly attracted to me!" Rick whimpered in pain, and Lauren laughed.
"The thing is, Jeff, Ive moved on. Im just not into you anymore," she whispered in his
ear. And then from nowhere she dug her long, razor-sharp thumbnail deep into the side
of his neck, gouging and twisting until it was all the way buried, and then she ripped it
out quickly. Light pink blood began to spurt rithmically from the wound. Arterial blood.
She had severed his carotid. Lauren let go of him and he crumpled to the floor. In
moments the spurting stopped, and Rick lay there in a pool of blood, lifeless with his eyes
still open.
Lauren gently closed Ricks eyes with the tips of her curved, pointed fingernails, and she
turned to Bobby. He dropped onto his knees with his hands clasped in prayer and cried,
"Please dont kill me! Ill do anything you ask. Anything. Just please, please let me
live!" "Youre totally being a wuss and its so unattractive!" Lauren said with disgust,
"Get off your knees!" Hesitantly Bobby did as she commanded. "I prayed that you
would ask me to the prom," she informed him. "I…I should have," Bobby said hoping to
say the right thing that might save him, "If I could go back and do it over…" "Well, you
cant," she said taking a step toward Bobby with her fingers spread. Bobby looked with
terror at her ten incredibly-long, unimaginably-sharp curved, pointed fingernails and
began to back away. "I just want to dance," Lauren said with a sad pleading in her voice.
"Honest?" Bobby asked. "Dont you trust me?" she asked, sounding hurt. "You just
killed four people!" he exclaimed. "Youre still alive, arent you?" she asked, sidling up
close to him, "In fact, you dont even have a…scratch," she smiled, and stroked his arms
with a feather-light touch using her pointed fingernails. Bobby could hear them scrape
his sleeve, and could feel their unholy sharpness through to his skin. Numb from fear and
with his knees shaking, Bobby took Laurens hand and she put her other hand on his
shoulder and they began to dance slowly to the music from the boom box.
"Hold me close, Bobby," Lauren said. She laid her head in his neck and whispered in his
ear, "Closer. Put your hand on my ass." Bobby complied, willing to do anything she
wanted so that she might not turn on him and shred him like she had the others. "Youre
a wonderful dancer," she said sweetly, "Im so glad you asked me to the prom." Bobby
didnt know how to respond, she was obviously insane and delusional, but he was
grateful for every second she let him live. "Arent you going to try to kiss me?" she
asked him. "Oh…uh…yeah, ok," he stammered, taken aback by her question. "Whats
the matter? Dont you want to?" she asked becoming incensed, and Bobby felt the points
of her deadly talons prick the back of his neck. "Sure I do!" he said quickly, and thinking
fast he added, "I just didnt want you to think I was being too aggressive." "I wont think
that," she assured him, smiling into his eyes, closing hers, approaching his lips with hers
slightly parted. Their lips met in a tender kiss, Lauren smiled, and then another much
longer kiss ensued. Lauren was very sexy, and her lips were soft and warm, so despite
his terror, Bobby could feel himself becoming aroused. She very lightly stroked the back
of his neck with her long, needle-sharp fingernails and felt the growing bulge in his pants
press against her crotch. "Oh, Bobby, I want you to be the one," she sighed. "The one?"
he repeated. "The one who takes my virginity, of course!" she smiled. Bobby swallowed
hard. Bobby thought fast, "We could go back to my place. My car is outside. Why
dont you meet me out front and…ow!" With a quick flick of a sharpened nail Lauren
left a stinging crimson scratch on his cheek. "Dont fuck with me," she said with a smirk,
"Just fuck me."
"Take all your clothes off," she commanded, stepping back and putting her weight on one
foot, watching Bobby with intent interest as he began to strip. As he removed his
clothing piece by piece, he began to feel more and more vulnerable, not that clothing had
presented any sort of protection against her lethal nails. "Youve kept in shape," she
remarked, running her fingers over his muscles, keeping her palms flat and her fingers
back as far as she could to avoid scratching him with her long, curved fingernails. "Very
good shape!" she commented, now starting to use her nails very lightly. Even with a
feather touch, the sharpened points left pink lines on his skin, and it terrorized him and
aroused him at the same time. She rubbed her leotard-clad thigh against his raging
hardon, and she drew him into a long kiss. Bobby put his arms around her and felt her
long, silky black hair. "Youre so tall!" she sighed, and she stepped on his bare feet and
raised up on her toes, digging in with her razor-sharp pointed toenails. Bobby whined in
pain and Lauren laughed, "A part of me wants to make love, and another part of me lusts
to tear you to pieces with my nails. Which part prevails all depends on how good a lover
you are." With that, Lauren took Bobby by his hands and gently settled back onto the
mat bringing him with her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and they shared a long
kiss, after which she lifted her chin and swept back her long black hair, urging him to
begin kissing her neck.
"Ohhhh, yes! That feels good," Lauren sighed deeply, turning her head to receive him on
the opposite side of her neck. Bobby slipped his thumbs under the straps of her leotard
and eased them off her shoulders and began kissing his way down toward her breasts.
"Ow! Geez! Shit!" he cried, glancing down his leg searching for the source of his sudden
pain, seeing blood trickling from where Lauren had her curved, pointed big toenail buried
in his calf. "Dont rush to my tits," she told him, "I liked what you were doing to my
neck." "Ok! Ok!" he cried and resumed slowly kissing Laurens neck. "Thats better,"
she whispered. Bobby sighed with relief, but immediately screamed as Lauren raked her
sharpened toenails all the way up his leg leaving behind a trail of crimson lines, "Christ!
What the fuck was that for?!" "Dont be a baby! Youve seen what my nails are capable
of. Those arent deep scratches," she chided, then she added matter-of-factly, "Anyway,
its permissible for girls to scratch when they get turned on. Lots of girls do it. It just
happens my nails are longer and sharper than most. Now get back to it before I decide to
really use my claws on you." Forcing himself to push through the pain of his bleeding,
throbbing leg, Bobby resumed kissing Laurens neck. This was like a chess game, where
each move had to be perfectly-executed, because the stakes of the game was his life. He
knew that each kiss, each touch had to please Lauren, had to increase her arousal,
otherwise at any given moment Lauren might rip him apart with her unbelievably-sharp
talons. Bobby thought as if he was locked in a cage with a savage tigress…no, Lauren
was more dangerous, because a tigress only killed from hunger or fear. Lauren was
deranged and she would kill from rage. And she derived great pleasure from it.
Bobby knew he needed to remain focused on trying to read and interpret Laurens signs
of arousal...her sighs and moans, the pace and intensity of her breathing, even her heart
rate. But it was difficult for him to concentrate. For one thing, it was hard for him to put
aside the fact that even if he pleasured her she would likely respond by scratching him,
and with the sharpness of her nails it would be excruciatingly painful. And being
completely naked increased his sense of vulnerability. Also interfering with his focus
was the fact that Lauren was extremely sexy and had him very much aroused. When she
wasnt scratching him, the touch of her hands was soft and tender. When she stroked him
very gently with her fingertips, her curved nails made contact with his skin and the faint
tracing of her needle-sharp nails on his skin was electrifying. She gave him urgent,
breathy commands: "Kiss the back of my neck…now the sides…now my throat. Lick
my ear…ok, now kiss my neck some more." "Ohhhhhhh, Bobby!" she moaned and gave
his bare shoulder a quick but passionate scratch with her long, curved and sharpened
fingernails. "Agh! Damn!" he cried clenching his teeth from the fiery pain.
"I like it firm but gentle," Lauren instructed him, guiding Bobbys hands to her hard little
nipples standing in relief under her thin black leotard. While he tenderly fondled her,
Lauren kept her hands resting on his, stroking them lightly with her pointed nails. The
erotic sensation kept him hard, and yet he knew her real purpose was to ensure he fondled
her just right. A little too soft or too roughly and he knew she would certainly punish
him with a painful scratch of her needle-sharp talons. Lauren closed her eyes and her
chest rose and fell rapidly, and she tossed her head from side to side moaning softly,
"Thats it! Just like that! Oh my God! Oh Bobby!" Suddenly Lauren arched her back
and let out a sharp squeal followed by a long moan…in chilling harmony with Bobbys
cry of pain as she sank her pointed fingernails into his arms. "Mmmmm," Lauren sighed,
opening her eyes, "That was wonderful!" "C-could you maybe let g-go n-now?" Bobby
begged through his teeth. "Oh, alright," she replied slightly annoyed that he distracted
her from her bliss, but before she extracted her talons from his arms she gave them a
quick squeeze and smirked when he cried out. "Kiss me," she said motioning him to her
with her curved nails. She wrapped her arms around him and they shared a long,
luxurious kiss. The feel of her pin-sharp nails gently skating over his back sent waves all
the way down his legs, where they joined the waves her pin-sharp toenails made skating
over his calves.
Bobby opened his eyes and looked around at the lifeless bodies of his friends lying in
pools of their blood, torn open as if theyd been mauled by some fearsome beast. It
shook Bobby back to reality, back to the knowledge that fearsome beast was in fact the
beautiful young woman now kissing and caressing him. Lauren saw that Bobby was
staring at the carnage that surrounded them. "The prom is kind of winding down," she
said. "Uh…right. Yes, yes it is," Bobby agreed, humoring her delusion, and suggested
hopefully, "I guess you probably want to go home." "I told my folks I was sleeping over
at a friends. We can spend all night together, Bobby," she said cheerfully. "Oh," he
said. "Dont you want to?" she asked, and Bobby could hear the rage building in her
voice. "What? Sure! Of course I do! Its just…um…" Bobbys mind raced, and he
added quickly, "Its just that I dont have money for a motel room." "Oh, Bobby, thats
ok! Dont feel bad," Lauren said sympathetically. She got up quickly and stepped into
her black satin slippers. "Get dressed and walk me out," she commanded. She took
Bobbys arm and cuddled against him as she walked him toward the rear of the stage,
carefully stepping around the corpses and avoiding the large pools of blood. There was a
single door, and she leaned against the handle and it opened onto the back parking lot.
She smiled up at Bobby, and the thought hit him that door had been unlocked the whole
time. But at least he was alive, and not even that badly hurt. Just a few scratches and
punctures that would heal. Bobby thought about knocking Lauren down and making a
run for his car, but she was holding onto his arm and he could feel the sharp points of her
nails, and he chickened-out. He kept telling himself to play it cool.
"Shit!" Bobby cried when he approached his brand-new Corvette. All four tires were
flat, the convertible top was shredded as were the leather seats. And all along both sides
were ten wavy scratches through the paint and into the fiberglass. "Oh, what a shame!"
Lauren said, "I bet it was some girl who you didnt ask to the prom." Bobby gritted his
teeth and took deep breaths. He reminded himself that the only important thing was him
getting away from her alive. He was glad at least he hadnt tried making a run for it,
given that his car was undrivable, and with his leg throbbing from where Lauren had dug
her sharp toenail deep into it, he might not have been able to outrun her. He told himself
again to play it cool. "Its ok, Ill just call a cab for myself," he said matter-of-factly
pulling out his cell phone. "Fuck!" he screamed as Lauren raked her pointed nails
quickly across the back of his hand, and he dropped his phone on the ground. She
smiled at him and dangled her car keys from her incredibly-long curved pinkie nail and
said, "You can drive my car, Bobby. " "Oh…uh…" he faltered. Lauren bubbled with
anticipation, "My parents are away. Weve got the place to ourselves!"
Bobby coaxed his large frame behind the wheel of Laurens Honda Civic and moved the
seat back. She laid her head against his headrest next to his face and looked longingly
into his eyes. "Oh, Bobby, Ive been looking forward to this night since sophomore
year," she sighed, resting her hand on his thigh. "Oh," he muttered, baffled and terrified
by her derangement. "This is where you turn and kiss me and tell me you love me," she
coached him, and at the same moment he felt the points of her deadly talons pop through
his pants and stab into his thigh. "Owowowowow! Ok! Ok!" he cried, managing to turn
to her and kiss her even though she continued to poke her nails into his leg. "Please stop
it!" he begged her, grasping her wrist. But that only prompted her to dig her nails in
harder, and the pain was intense. "Bobby, did you forget you have something to say?"
she asked sweetly. "I l-love you?" he responded. "Its not supposed to sound like a
question!" she said curtly, and sank her knife-sharp fingernails deeper still. "I love you! I
love you!" Bobby screamed. "You dont need to shout, Bobby. Im not hard of hearing,"
Lauren laughed as she extracted her fingernails from his thigh. Bobby rubbed his
throbbing leg, while blood soaked the five punctures in his pants. Lauren turned the key
and started the engine for him. "Make a right out of the lot and keep going to the second
stop sign, then take a left," she instructed, and Bobby put the car in Drive.
Lauren grazed her pointed fingernails on Bobbys arm constantly while he drove. He
glanced down fearfully every so often, watching the latticework of thin, pink scratches
multiplying each time he looked. She kissed his neck and whispered "I hope you
appreciate how hard it is for me to resist the urge to claw you to the bone." "Im very
grateful!" he said, "Very, very grateful!" "I can tell that you are," she whispered, raking
her nail points over the huge, hard bulge in his pants. "Kiss me," she commanded as they
pulled up to a red light. "Its lucky for you kiss well," she informed him when it was
over, stroking his cheek faintly with her talons, and she whispered, "Because you know I
can easily slice your face open with these." She punctuated her remark with a quick light
scratch. Bobby cried "Agh!" and when he took his hand away from his face there was
blood on his fingers. Lauren laughed and pointed ahead. "The light is green," she said.
Weeds grew in large cracks on Laurens driveway, and it looked like her lawn hadnt
been mowed in months. The two-story frame house was badly weathered and in need of
a coat of paint, and the boards creaked loudly as they walked across the porch to the door.
Lauren unlocked the door and Bobby felt her nails poke his sides as she urged him on and
said, "Lets go upstairs to my room." Bobby took quick stock of her bedroom. There
were stuffed animals piled everywhere, and rock band posters from their high-school era
thumbtacked to the walls. Above a dressing table was a mirror with dozens of
photographs taped around the periphery, yearbook photos of guys Bobby knew from high
school. All but five had a red X in marker drawn across them. "Excuse me a second,"
Lauren said, and she took a red marker from the drawer and drew an X through four of
the five photographs. Bobby recognized himself as the fifth photo. "There!" Lauren said
with satisfaction. Then she turned to Bobby and cocked her head and said remarked,
"Youre still dressed." "Well, I…" Bobby faltered nervously, looking around furtively,
apprehensively. Terrified. He began to pull his polo shirt from his pants. "I want to
undress you," Lauren said with a sexy smile, reaching for his collar. She could feel him
shiver and said with concern, "Dont be nervous. Its my first time, too." Bobby forced a
grin although every brain-cell was buzzing with terror at being trapped in a room with a
woman with twenty long, sharp talons, who was murderously insane. Lauren caught the
fabric of his shirt with her pointed fingernails and effortlessly tore it to shreds, leaving the
occasional small scratch on his skin underneath. She ran her talons through his chest hair
and wrapped her arms around his back in a hot embrace, lightly pricking her pointed
fingernails into his skin. Lauren took one of Bobbys nipples between her teeth and
tugged it gently. She sucked it and let go with a little pop, and she turned her face up to
his with a pixieish grin and asked, "Am I turning you on, Bobby?" Before he could
respond she rubbed her thigh across the hard bulge in his pants and smiled knowingly.
"Lets get these off," she whispered as she slipped her long, curved thumbnail under his
belt. "Hmm! Its being stubborn!" she complained, and she raised one foot, hooked her
toes into his front pocket and stepped down swiftly. "Jesus!" Bobby cried. Her long
curved razor-sharp toenails left his pants leg in ribbons, and raw scratches on his skin.
Lauren used her toenails to claw his socks down to his ankles and she pushed him onto
her bed on his back and used her improbably-sharp fingernails to tear off his briefs. She
came down on top of him and commanded, "Lets make out."
They made out for a long time. He tried to concentrate on forming a plan of escape, but
Bobby couldnt help being very aroused by Lauren, and was unable to stay focused on
the deathly seriousness of his situation for long. Every so often he would get startled to
reality by a sudden stabbing pain or a fiery burn from Laurens fingernails and toenails,
but then the tenderness of her kisses and the feather-light tracing of those same deadly
talons would lull him back into a rapture. He felt Laurens hand wrap around his rigid
cock and he gasped. "Dont worry Bobby," she laughed, "I wont claw your dick. That
much I promise. I need it to be healthy." As he had back in the gym, Bobby tried to
ease her leotard off her shoulders to expose her breasts. Lauren pricked her nails into his
hands and said shyly, "No guy has ever seen my boobs." "If you dont want me to…"
Bobby began. "I do want you to," Lauren replied and let go of his hands. Bobby gently
peeled her leotard down. "Are they ok?" she asked hesitantly. "Ok? Theyre fantastic!"
he replied joyously. "Thank you," she said sweetly. Bobby reached for Laurens breasts
but she grabbed his wrists with her long curved needle-pointed fingernails and he cried,
"Owowowowow! I havent touched you!" "You do remember how I like it, dont you
Bobby?" she asked. "Yes! Yes! Firm but gentle! Owww!" he cried. "Thats right.
Because if you do it wrong I would have to scratch you…very hard," she warned, and
she slowly released him from her stabbing grip. As he had before, Bobby fondled
Laurens hard nipples mindful of her preference, and also as before, it pleasured her
immensely. "Kiss my neck," she whispered weakly, "But dont stop doing my boobs."
"Ohhhhh, Bobby!" she moaned softly, and put her arms around him. He felt her spread
her hands over his back and prick him with her sharpened long fingernails, and he braced
for pain. "Say it," she sighed, squeezing her nails in a little harder, "And not like its a
question!" "I love you!" Bobby said trying to sound as earnest and convincing as he
possibly could. He felt her nails relax, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
Lauren gently eased herself back and she smiled sweetly at Bobby. "Its time," she said,
spreading her legs slowly. She extended one finger between her legs and caught her
black leotard crotch with the sharp point of her long, curved nail. The thin knitted fabric
ripped easily, exposing her swollen, dripping pussy. Like any man in that position,
Bobbys libido took control and with his cock at full-mast, he came forward on her. She
put her hands beside his neck and said solemnly, "Remember, Im a virgin. Be gentle,
ok?" "Uh huh," Bobby said, only half-believing her, and he began to advance his cock
head into her waiting pussy. As he penetrated her, Lauren hooked her nails into his neck
and scratched him to his shoulders where she sank them in deep. "Aiiiiieeeee!" Bobby
screamed. Lauren relaxed, and slowly extricated her curved nails from Bobbys
shoulders while he continued to cry out. "It didnt hurt that much," she said. "The hell it
didnt!" he shouted. "I meant me losing my virginity," Lauren said, and she wrapped her
arms and legs around Bobby and whispered, "Give me fireworks."
"Ohhhhhh! Bobby! Oh my God!" Lauren moaned, feeling his hard cock delving deep
inside her, "Ohhh! God, it feels so amazing!" Fully cognizant that his chances of
survival depended on him pleasuring her, Bobby was thankful she approved, and he
smiled to himself. For a moment or two. Suddenly a stabbing pain shot up to his brain
from his ankles, and in another instant white-hot pain coursed up the back of both legs as
Lauren raked them with her long, sharpened toenails. Then there was fiery, searing pain
across his back as she clawed him with her sharp-pointed fingernails. Bobby nearly
passed out from the pain, and his dick went rubbery. Laurens eyes went wild with rage
and her nostrils flared with each rapid breath. "Make it get hard again!" she shrieked.
Bobby cried, "I cant stand the pain!" "Pain?" she exclaimed, "Thats not pain. If you
dont go back to fucking me in a minute, Ill show you what real pain is!" Bobby saw the
transformed look on her face, the heartless, psychotic, murderous look hed seen when
she slaughtered his four former high-school buddies. He gritted his teeth and began to
move slowly in and out of her, and to focus on the pleasurable sensation of her hot, wet
pussy surrounding his dick. He could feel his painful nerve-endings begin to calm, and
his cock begin to harden. Lauren felt it too, and her look softened. She moaned,
"Mmmmm, yes! Thats better. Dont stop. Ohhhh, Bobby! I love you so much!" He
felt her sharp pointed fingernails prick the back of his shoulders and he asked timidly,
"Could you maybe not scratch me?" "Im not doing it on purpose. I cant help it, it just
happens when Im turned on…like any normal girl!" she whined.
"Well…could you maybe cut your nails?" Bobby asked. "Cut them?!" Lauren
exclaimed. "Ok, no, not that….Maybe just like, file the points down…a little?" he
pleaded. "Cut them?!" she repeated, clearly having not heard his alternate suggestion.
Suddenly her fingernails were buried deep into his pecs with his blood trickling back
along their curved contours and onto her fingers. "Aaaiiiiieee…Jesus Christ!" Bobby
screamed from the mind-blowing pain. "Apologize!" Lauren commanded, but it sounded
oddly like a plea. Bobby cried, "I apologize! Im sorry, Lauren!" "Not to me!" she
exclaimed, "To them! Apologize to my nails!" Bobby grimaced from the excruciating
pain as Lauren clenched her talons deeper. "Now! Oh, Bobby, apologize to my nails
before they kill you!" Lauren cried urgently. "Im sorry! Im sorry!" he cried looking at
her extremely long talons buried in his pecs, now almost to her fingertips, "I didnt mean
it! You can stay long and sharp!" Tears of pain ran down his cheeks as he looked into
Laurens eyes and pleaded, "Please take them out!" "They forgive you," she said quietly
as her long, curved fingernails slowly withdrew from his flesh, "This time." Bobbys
heart was pounding like a drum. He was glad to have defused the situation and that she
hadnt killed him, but he now realized that Laurens insanity was more profound than
even he had imagined. "Bobby?" she said softly. "Huh?" he replied, staring at the blood
trickling from ten swollen, purple wounds on his pecs. "Make love to me some more,"
Lauren said sweetly, lifting her chin and parting her lips to receive his kiss.
Lauren was sensual, responsive, aggressive but in a decidedly feminine way, her kisses
were marshmallow-soft and sweet and, with a feather-light touch her pin-sharp nails sent
electric shocks seemingly straight to Bobbys dick. It was becoming apparent to him that
Lauren was one of those women who takes a long, long time building up to a single,
mind-blowing, cataclysmic orgasm. Him cumming before she reached her climax would
surely be fatal, he reasoned. In fact in-between her scratching him, he had to use every
trick he knew to keep from cumming. It got so he began to welcome her scratches
because they helped him last, and lasting was what would keep him alive. But as Lauren
slowly built toward her climax, those scratches came in shorter intervals and with more
intensity, and the searing, burning pain exploded like grenades inside Bobbys head.
Lauren dragged her long, curved and pointed fingernails slowly down his arms leaving
scores of thin bleeding incisions that then became centered within hot, inflamed furrows.
She would wrap her legs around his back in a rib-crushing grip and then stretch them out
and dig and scratch her long sharpened toenails up and down the back of his thighs. As
she began to reach her climax Lauren sank the nails of one hand into the back of Bobbys
neck and buried the others into his ass, gripping and clenching hard, her moans becoming
louder and higher-pitched as she thrust her hips against him violently, until finally she let
out a series of ear-splitting screams and gave his back one last slow, deep clawing with
her unimaginably-sharp long, curved, pointed fingernails. Bobby wailed in agonized,
excruciating pain but he came like a tidal wave…and then he passed out.
"Ohhh, my head!" Bobby groaned when he tried to sit up and the room seemed to start
spinning. "Shhh, lie down," Lauren said, gently pressing his shoulders back to the bed,
"You lost a little blood is all. Youll be fine in a while. Here drink this, itll help." She
offered him a large glass of orange juice with a straw, and she supported his head while
he drank. "Thanks," he said weakly. "Take these," she said presenting two green-and-
red capsules on her palm. "What are they?" he asked suspiciously. "Antibiotics," she
replied, "You need to be on them on account of the deep puncture wounds from my nails.
Otherwise you could get a blood infection and die." Bobby opened his eyes wide.
"Dont worry. Father was a doctor. Do as I tell you and youll live," she smiled, and
after a pause she added pointedly, "That applies to everything." Bobby closed his eyes
and sighed. Lauren took off her leotard with the torn crotch and crumpled it into a
wastebasket. She posed and modeled herself nude in front of her mirror, and then looked
at Bobby and said, "Im pretty hot arent I." He couldnt help but agree, and he said,
"Yes, you are." "Do you think Ill make a pretty bride?" she asked out of nowhere.
"Uhh…sure, yeah," Bobby answered, mindful of keeping her in a good mood. Lauren
beamed, and she bent over him and kissed him gently on the lips. Quickly she opened a
dresser drawer and retrieved a lacy white veil.
Completely nude except for the veil, Lauren got on the bed straddling Bobby on her
knees. "Join hands," she commanded taking Bobbys hand in hers. She turned her head
to the left and recited, "Lauren Midnight, do you take this man Robert Rice to be your
husband, to have and to hold, till death do you part?" Then she turned her head to the
right and replied, "I do." Lauren faced Bobby and continued, "And do you Robert Rice
take this woman Lauren Midnight to be your wife, to have and to hold, till death do you
part?" "I…I…um…," Bobby stammered, once again terrified by Laurens delusional
behavior. Still holding his hand, Lauren dug her long, pointed thumbnail painfully into
his palm and started drilling it, and Bobby cried, "I do! I do! Oh, God, please make it
stop! I dooooooo!" Lauren relaxed her thumb and said, "By the power invested in me, I
pronounce us husband and wife." She swept back her veil and bent forward, softly
saying, "You may now kiss the bride," and she slipped her tongue into his mouth and
kissed him hungrily for a full minute. Then she whispered in his ear, "This is the
happiest day of my life," and she got up and carefully folded her veil back into her
drawer. Then she took nail file from her dressing table and came and sat on the bed next
to Bobby. "I love you so much," she sighed.
A flash of hope shot through him. Secure in her delusion she and he were married lovers,
Lauren was about to render her talons non-lethal! Without her deadly nails, he could
easily overpower her and escape! Bobby did everything he could to contain his
anticipation, to keep his joy from showing on his face, lest she catch on and abort her
plan to de-claw herself. He smiled lovingly at her and watched as Lauren prepared to file
her nails. As she was about to make the first file stroke she stopped. Bobby swallowed
hard, praying to himself she hadnt changed her mind. "At first I only set out to stop
biting my nails," she said, "I never planned to grow them long. But when I saw my
fingers with a little bit of nails for the first time in my life, I started to feel pretty. So I
thought, if I feel pretty with a little nails, I might feel beautiful with longer nails." She
looked at Bobby and he nodded his interest. "And I was right! The longer they got, the
prettier I felt. I thought eventually the feeling would stop increasing, but it didnt, and I
kept on letting them grow. I was really surprised the way they curve. I wasnt expecting
them to." She turned her hands gracefully, slowly opening and closing her fingers. She
looked mesmerized by the sight of her own fingernails, her mouth slightly open, her eyes
glazed over. "Where was I? Oh yeah," she continued, "So when I saw how they curved
they immediately reminded me of claws and I thought to myself, wow, I always had the
potential to have these awesome talons but I wasted all those years biting them! Thats
when I realized it." Bobby nodded again. "I realized it was an omen! I had been given
these claw-shaped nails for a purpose: to punish all the guys who ignored me because I
was plain-looking. So I got plastic surgery to make me look as hot on the outside as my
nails made me feel on the inside. And I grew out my toenails and sharpened all my nails
and…well, the rest you know." Bobby put his hand on her arm and said, "And now
youre finally happy." "Oh, so happy!" she said, and she spread her fingers and toes and
gazed at her pointed talons, all twenty of them clear, natural and strong, and all with the
same graceful talon-like curvature. Lauren sighed as she brought the file to the first one.
Bobby watched and waited with bainted breath. First her unbelievably-long fingernails,
and then her surprisingly-long toenails. Nail by nail, first on one side and then on the
other, she ran the emery board carefully from back to front…refreshing and refining their
razor-sharp points.
Bobbys heart sank when she set the file away. She gave his belly just a quick, light
scratch. She smiled when he jumped from the sudden sting, and laughed with satisfaction
that her newly-honed nails had instantly drawn blood. Lauren went to her dresser and
took out a cellophane-wrapped package and slit it with one razor-sharp nail. She
unfolded a new leotard and put it on slowly, being careful not to tear it on any of her
long, sharpened nails. Eyeing Bobbys reaction as he watched her, she slithered her lithe,
feline body into the tight black leotard. "Would you like some light?" she asked,
reaching for the curtains. "Um…," Bobby began, and as she pulled the curtains open he
saw that there were heavy bars on the window. "Are you hungry, darling?" Lauren
asked. "Not really," he replied. "Well, if you get hungry theres food in here," she said
pointing to a little refrigerator in the corner of the bedroom. Pointing at a door she said,
"And thats the bathroom." Lauren began filling a hypodermic syringe from a little glass
vial. "W-whats that?" he asked fearfully as she approached him with the needle. "Just a
little something to help you sleep," she said cheerfully as she gave him the injection.
Then she bent over him and tugged gently on his lips with her teeth and slid her tongue
into his mouth and gave him a burning kiss, tracing her extraordinarily long, curved and
pointed fingernails feather-softly down his chest and stomach and around his rapidly-
hardening cock. Lauren whispered, "Sleep now, my darling." "I need you rested for
tonight, when I come home…with an itch to scratch" she said and smirked, "If you know
what I mean." Bobby was already feeling groggy from the sedative. "Where are you
going?" he asked as Lauren stood in the doorway. Just before she closed and locked the
heavy steel door behind her she dragged her long, curved and pointed fingernails across it
making an ear-grating screech and leaving thin gouges in the paint. "I have places to go,"
she purred, slowly opening and closing her taloned fingers, "…and people to kill."
-
ROMAN HOLIDAY
ROMAN HOLIDAY
My mate Rick always had a fantasy about having a romantic interlude with an Italian girl,
and for his eighteenth birth-day, on the pretext of being captivated by its history he
convinced his parents to give him enough money for passage to Rome and three weeks of
living expenses. Being somewhat of an introvert, Rick begged me to join him, as I had a
bit of a reputation for being an extrovert with the ladies. It sounded exciting and
fortunately I happened to have enough saved. We flew to Florence and then on to Rome
by rail, arriving in the early evening. There we took a couple of rooms in a hotel and
immediately wasted no time setting about to make Rick's fantasy come true. Upon the
advice of some other mates, we had a list of places where young singles prowled for
members of the opposite gender. I noted three things straight-away. The first was that
never before in my life had I seen such a concentration of young women who were
astonishingly beautiful. The second, which depressed me a bit, was that the young Italian
men all appeared rather better-looking and certainly better-dressed than either of us. The
other, which depressed me intensely but which of course I did not mention to Rick, to
whom it was not remotely an issue, was that I couldn't find so much as a sliver of
fingernail growth on any of those women. Rick was as a child in a candy shop, and was
quickly running short of patience with me forcing him to exit one venue after another as I
secretively searched and hoped to find a long-nailed girl for myself. Finally providence
smiled wide, or so it seemed. There at a small table sat two exquisite young women with
long, raven hair and dark brown eyes. Before them was a nearly-empty bottle of wine
and two half-filled glasses, two nearly-empty packages of cigarettes and matches, and an
ash-tray nearly overflowing with lipstick-stained cigarette butts, indicating the women
had been there for some time. One girl picked up her wine glass, and I could see that her
nails were trimmed to the quick, however my heart started to pound when her companion
extracted a cigarette from her pack and placed it between her lips. From across the room
I could see that she had long, un-varnished fingernails which I estimated to be at least
two centimeters and very slightly downwardly curved.
I immediately prodded Rick with my elbow and gestured with my eyes toward their table.
Rick's face lit up with the look of a starving fox who'd just stumbled upon two
unprotected chickens. As we approached the table I said "lei parla inglese?" which was
all the Italian I'd memorised from the phrase book, and I hoped meant "do you speak
English?" The girls, a bit mellowed by the wine, smiled and laughed. The short-nailed
one said, with a heavy accent, "Yes, I some. She, no." I introduced Rick and myself, and
she said her name was Lucia and her friend's name was Gina. I asked if they minded if
we sat with them. "Okay," Lucia said holding up the bottle of wine, "but we will go
away soon, the wine is only little more, you see?" I immediately called the waiter and
pointed to the bottle and he nodded in understanding. "Oh, grazie," Lucia said, and she
and Gina exchanged a look and a smile. There was music playing and I asked if they
would like to dance. Lucia translated to Gina and they both nodded and arose. Although
they resembled one another, when they stood Lucia was a head taller than Gina and
perhaps a few centimeters taller than Rick, who in turn was perhaps a head shorter than I.
Immediately Rick offered his hand to Gina, and my heart sank. Lucia was lovely of
course, and she at least knew enough English that rudimentary communication was
possible, but she had no nail growth at all, and whilst we danced I couldn't take my eyes
off of Rick and Gina as one of her long-nailed hands rested in his and the other upon his
shoulder. Somehow I had to sort the terrible mix-up that had occurred, but I had to figure
a way to do it without ruining our opportunity with both girls.
We came back to the table and sat beside our respective dance partners. We consumed
the rest of their wine and most of the second bottle. They were clearly used to drinking
copious amounts of wine, and I had the advantage of weight, but Rick was fast becoming
inebriated. And emboldened. Several times he tried to put his arm round Gina but she
shrugged him off. At first she smiled but after the third time it was obvious she was
becoming annoyed. Lucia grasped my shirt and pulled me closer so she could speak into
my ear over the noise of the music and voices. "Gina she, when she get mad, sheI don't
know how is in English," she said with alarm, raising her hand. "Slap," I said laughing,
"she's going to slap my mate? He's got it coming." "Slap? Yes. Maybe. No, I think it
is not the right word." Just then I happened to glance over at Rick in time to see his hand
disappear below the table in the direction of Gina's thigh. "Scrape!" Lucia said, "I think
that is the word. She will scrape him!" At the same time as Lucia was making that
statement, Gina's soft brown eyes narrowed and a look of seething anger crossed her face
as her hand followed Rick's below the table. Rick screamed and quickly pulled back his
arm, staring in open-mouthed shock at four thin red gashes across the back of his hand.
Gina stood quickly and said what I presumed was an exhortation to Lucia to depart. By
this time not only was I aroused by the sight of Gina's long, lovely fingernails but also by
the fact she was clearly a hell-cat with no compunction about using those nails on a
bloke. I desperately wanted her to stay, and in fact I desperately wanted to feel her use
her nails on me, hopefully during sex but if not, I was desperate enough as a last resort to
provoke her to "scrape" me as she had done to Rick. In retrospect I'm certain Lucia had
fancied Rick from the start, because she said something in-to Gina's ear, upon which
Gina retorted something angrily in rapid-fire Italian and stamped her foot, but she sat
down, folded her arms and turned her face away from Lucia, who meanwhile grabbed
Rick by the arm and pulled him to dance. I tried smiling innocently at Gina but she
returned me a cold stare. I picked up her wine glass and mine and offered hers to her,
with a pleading expression on my face. She took the glass, but instead of clinking it
against mine, she simply drank its contents and plucked a cigarette from her package. I
reached for the matches, intending to give her a light-up, and as she grabbed for them at
the same time her two-centimeter nails scratched the back of my fingers. Her nails were
alarmingly sharp and though they barely grazed my skin they left pink marks. She said
something in Italian, which of course I didn't understand, but it definitely didn't sound
like an apology and neither did her look seem surprised or remorseful. I struck the match
and as I lit her cigarette she clasped my hands in hers and as she inhaled she withdrew her
hands, slowly tracing her nails against my skin. She again said something in Italian, and
winked at me as she exhaled a cloud of smoke skyward. Huffing in frustration that I
hadn't understood a word she'd said, she pointed a long, white-tipped fingernail at Rick
who was dancing with Lucia, and exclaimed, "No!" Then she grasped my hand and
placed it on her thigh and said, "Si." I pointed my finger back and forth at her and
myself and asked hesistantly, "Si?" "Si, si, si, si," she said, incensed that she had to
repeat her proposition. Gina was indeed a hell-cat with a quick and fiery temper. Again
I pointed back and forth at her and myself, and then pointed toward the door.
"Momento," was her response, and when the music stopped and Lucia and Rick came
back to the table, Gina sensuously ran her long fingernails through my hair and gently
down my cheeks as she leant toward me, her eyes closing and her lips parting, and graced
me with a long, passionate kiss. Suddenly she stood and pulled me to my feet and said
"Ciao," to Lucia. Rick, still somewhat under the influence of too much wine, gave Gina
an apologetic look and extended his uninjured hand to her. She extended her hand also,
mimicking his facial expression. And then she swiftly clawed the back of his hand with
her extremely sharp fingernails. I watched with instant arousal,
wanting Gina even more than I had already, but Rick screamed and looked at his two hands,
each with four bleeding gashes and turned to Lucia for sympathy. What he received however, was
her open palm across his face hard enough that the impact could be heard above the din
of the crowd. "That is 'slap', yes?" Lucia asked me. "Yes, bravo," I replied, laughing
hard. Lucia turned to Rick and pushed his shoulders so hard he nearly fell off his chair,
but she grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him back. "You are a pig," she snapped,
"You do not look at any other woman, capisce?" Gina put her arm round my waist and I
put mine round her shoulders and we walked out in-to the night air. She was chattering
away in Italian, oblivious to the fact that I couldn't understand a word she was saying.
Finally she pretended to pull out her hair, and threw her arms up in a shrug. I looked at
her sadly and shrugged and shook my head. "No Italiano," I said apologetically. Gina
rolled her eyes to the heavens, then she grabbed me gently by the face with one hand, her
sharp fingernails poking my skin, and with her other hand she pointed a talon back and
forth at herself and me and said, "Amore!" I smiled brightly and so did she, as she had
clearly made me understand what she had in mind. "Your place or mine?" I asked,
realizing the moment I said it that she had no idea what I meant. "Non capisco," Gina
replied with a frustrated look. I remembered the hotel room key in my pocket and
showed it to her. "Si, prego," she said, smiling coyly and cozying herself to me as we
walked off.
I'd no sooner closed the door to my hotel room behind me when Gina shoved me against
the wall and undid my belt, thrusting her hand inside my trousers and shorts, frenziedly
stroking my manhood and fondling my balls. The sensation of her smooth, hard, sharp
long nails was electrifying and she tossed back her long black hair as I began kissing her
neck. She turned her face to mine and gently bit my lips and licked them and slowly
inserted her tongue in my mouth as she continued fondling me with her nails. Suddenly
she broke free and backed slowly into the room, pulling me along with her fingers tucked
in-to my waistband, her eyes as if on fire as she stared un-blinking in-to mine. Gina
slithered on-to the bed on her back but as I came toward her she brought her stiletto heel
to my thigh and I halted. As I stood there watching, she slowly undressed herself, never
taking her eyes off of mine. Her body was magnificent, incredible, and finally as she
peeled her silk stockings down her perfect, slender legs she sat toward the head of the bed
and motioned me toward her. I quickly started to undress but Gina got up on her knees
and pulled me, still half dressed, on-to the bed, her lips enveloping mine, tongue thrusting
in-to my mouth, wrapping her legs round me. With one hand she guided me in-to her and
as we began moving together Gina brought both of her hands up and quickly clawed both
sides of my neck from back to front. The pain was knife-like and I could feel it throb and
sting and I could tell I was bleeding even before I withdrew my hand from my neck and
saw the blood on my fingers. Gina took my hand and licked each of my fingers clean,
emitting a soft, contented moan, and then she licked and sucked the scratches on my
neck, her moans becoming louder and longer. She kissed my lips softly and tenderly, and
then she backed away just enough so I slipped out of her. As I attempted to move
forward she closed her knees together and laughed. I kissed her legs and gently grasped
her ankles and tried to separate them, but she crossed her feet and laughed again. I gazed
at her feet, her toes were as lovely as her fingers, with glossy deep red varnish expertly
applied to her perfectly-shaped toenails. Gina slowly lifted one foot and grasped my
chest-hair in her toes and pulled hard. I yelped and she laughed, and then she raised her
foot to my face and hooked her toes into my lips and pushed against me until I opened
my mouth. It was clear that she wanted her feet licked and sucked, and as I obliged she
raised her other foot and caressed my face. Finally she removed her one foot from my
mouth and placed her wet toes on my face whilst slipping the other foot in-to my mouth.
Gina was moaning louder and I glanced past her feet and could see that she was slowly
stroking herself with her palm and fingers, gently caressing herself in circles with her
fingertips but careful to keep from accidentally scratching herself with her long razor-
sharp fingernails. I placed my hands on her ankles and gently pulled them apart and she
did not resist, then she rested her feet against my collar-bone momentarily and then
slipped them under my arms and wrapped her legs round me and pulled me to her. She
was still fingering herself and I grasped her wrists and gently removed her hands to either
side. She looked at me with frantic despair and in the split-second between that moment
and when I entered her, she brought her hands to my chest and swiftly raked her
unbelievably-sharp two-centimeter fingernails downward over my nipples, leaving eight
thin, bleeding claw marks, which she immediately began to lick and suck as she'd done
to my neck. At that point I clasped her to me and began to thrust, and her moans grew
louder and longer as she thrust against me harder and faster. Suddenly I felt Gina tighten
around my manhood like a python and her body began to shudder, and I began to climax
as well. As we ascended to mutual bliss, locked in the rhythm of pounding thrusts, Gina
began to claw my back hand-over-hand, faster and faster with her long, razor-sharp
fingernails, and as I screamed in excruciating pain, Gina surrendered to her explosive
orgasm and began screaming, "Oh God damn, fuck me, fuck me, harder, deeper, oh God
don't stop, oh Jesus God…" As her climax subsided Gina went limp and I went limp on
top of her, gasping. Gina put her hand over her mouthI vividly recall the sight of fresh,
red blood on her long fingernailsand giggled, "Oops."
"You…speak….English?!" I panted breathlessly. "Yeah," Gina replied, avoiding my
gaze but quickly realizing she was looking at her blood-stained nails and so was I.
"Sorry I tricked you," she said sheepishly. Hearing not even a trace of an Italian accent, I
asked her where she was from. "Long Island," she replied, "that's near New York, in
America." "I know bloody well where it is," I responded, annoyed. It made sense now,
why she had very long fingernails unlike any of the other Italian girls I'd seen. "Why the
subterfuge?" I enquired. "I figured you guys were only after Italian girls," she answered,
and then added, "well, actually I am Italian. It's not my fault my grandfather came to
America and his brotherthat's Lucia's grandfatherdidn't." "So Lucia's truly Italian
then?" I asked. "Yeah, she's the genuine article," Gina responded. "Well that's good,
that's why we came to Rome, so Rick could fulfill his fantasy with a real Italian girl."
Gina started to laugh, and as I looked at her somewhat perplexed, her laughter grew
louder and stronger. "What's so bloody funny about that?" I asked finally. When Gina
caught her breath she replied, "Lucia's a virgin, she's saving herself for her wedding
night. I guarantee you the only thing your pal got last night was a kissmaybeIF he
spent a lot of cash on her and IF he didn't keep trying to get in her pants." I didn't want
to laugh, but I couldn't stop myself.
"Hey, do you hate me?" Gina asked. "Of course I don't hate you," I answered, "you're
stunning and you're a great fuck." "Jesus, I really scratched the shit out of you," Gina
offered, surveying her handwork. "No bother," I replied. "Cool," she remarked, "I saw
you looking at my nails and I kinda suspected like maybe they turned you on, but I
wasn't sure. That's why I scratched your pal, to see how you reacted." "And how did I
react?" I asked, thinking I was rather adept at concealing my attraction to long nails.
"You looked like you would've fucked me right there on the table in the cafI, if you
could've." "Indeed I would have," I confessed with a chuckle, "I'm happy you don't
think I'm some kind of freak." Gina slid her lovely body close to me and slowly licked
the scratches over my nipple. "Me think you're a freak?," she laughed, "I get off on
ripping guys open and sucking their blood, remember?" Suddenly Gina became silent
and turned her face to mine, staring deeply in-to my eyes. I felt her nails gently settle on
my manhood and slowly stroke its length. As she felt me instantly swell and harden to
her touch a slight smile crept over her lips. She encircled my lips
lightly with the tip of her tongue and then kissed me tenderly. As I turned to kiss her more deeply,
she brought her hand to my face and with a swift flick of her finger swiped one long, razor-sharp
fingernail across my cheek and quickly covered the scratch with her mouth, gently sucking, and lapping
the wound with her tongue, and as she continued she slowly slipped herself under me and wrapped her legs
round me and I entered her again. Gina moaned softly, her warm lips still attached to my cheek.
She then traced her tongue down toward my neck, where she proceeded to scratch me deeply with
two of her nails and began to suck and lick the cuts as her hips moved in unison with mine, and
her hands settled in-to a rythm raking my back with her two-centimeter talons. Rick left for
home after five days of unsuccessfully trying to fulfill his fantasy, whilst I remained the
entire three weeks, and we barely left the hotel room other than for meals at a near-by
restaurant and for Gina to buy cigarettes .
-
Sadie
black
"black it is, then" Sadie says. She takes out a kit, and a bottle of black nail polish. She walks back to you, and puts the kit and the polish to one side. She places her palm on your chest. She examines her nails for a moment, then turns to you. "Do you have a little snap lock bag?"
"It's over at the cupboard" you answer. Your heart is beating faster
"My, my, aren't we excited" she giggles as she massages your hard stick for a moment, and then gets up. "Stay there, OK?"
"Ok"
Sadie walked and rummaged around on the cupboard, and then returns with the snap lock bag. She opens it on your chest. She rummages around her kit, and then takes out a sharp pair of nail scissors. Your heart starts beating faster
"What are you doing?" you ask, distressed.
Sadie smirks. She holds out her nail, and then measures off about an inch in length with the scissors. "What do you think I'm, doing?"
"Why are you cutting your nails?"
Sadie smiles. "I'm going to give them to you, silly"
"But I'd rather have...." before I could finish, Sadie had cut across her nail, and after a moment the cut piece dropped on your chest. You almost have a heart attack, but Sadie still had an inch of growth left on her fingers.
"You're silly" said Sadie "I just wanted to give you something to remember me by until next time we bonk". Sadie picked up the half inch piece from your chest with her nails.
"Don't worry" Sadie says "They'll be back to one and a half inches long in about a month"
Sadie cut each and every nail she had back to one inch, and when she had finished, she casually picked up every single one, and put it in the snap lock bag, and sealed it. Sadie then put the nail scissors away, and took out the nail file. Sadie then proceeded to file each and every nail into a square tip.
when she had finished a nail, she would prick them on you. You wince every time she poked you with the sharp, square edge. She would then place the nail on your chest, and casually slice it along. She looked satisfied everytime you said "owww", and a little red welt appeared on your chest
when she finished, she held up all ten nails, and making sure that they were all square. She then took her black polish. She placed her hand on your chest, and with the other, started painting her nails black. She made sure that she took her time, letting you observe, and admire her nails. She smiled as she realised that your stick was still very hard.
when she had finished painting her nails, she held them up to dry. "I'm going to be in so much trouble if your parents come home, with both of us naked an all."
"Oh yes we are" you say, still staring at her beautiful black, one inch long nails, now shining and reflecting the light.
Sadie gently blew on her nails, and then shook her hands to try and dry them off faster
"Enjoy my nail clippings" she said. "I know that you'll have a hard on just looking at them"
"You know I'll be thinking of you when I do"
"You'd better" she warned "or else I'm going to come in and use my nails to destroy you"
"Yes please" you say. Sadie shakes her head, giggling.
Sadie rests her head on your chest, and smiles, while she lays out her hands on the tiles for her nails to dry. You talk to Sadie about other things, and before both of you knew it, you've been on the floor for hours, and your back starts hurting. Sadie helps you up, as her nail polish have now dried.
both of you get dressed. Sadie picks up the bag of nail clippings and gives them to you, then she feels your stick
Sadie smiles as she realises that you are hard again. She climbs up the steps, and kisses you passionately on your lips as she opens the door. "Feel them"
"Feel what?"
"my nails, silly" she says as she pokes your hand with her nail. You reach out and touch them, and run your fingers through, feeling how smooth they are. Sadie waits for you to be contented, and then she holds your face with both hands.
"Thanks for the bonk, bonk buddy" Sadie says "When will I see you again?"
"Whenever you like" you answer. with that, Sadie kisses you once more, and turned and closed the door behind her.
bottom
"with pleasure" Sadie said as she ripped off her top, and her dress, and kissed you passionately. You stick your tongue into her mouth
You felt Sadie trying to tear your clothes off, and you oblige, taking off your T-shirt, while she unbuttoned your pants. You look at her attempting to unbutton you and you think why she doesn't simply tear your pants apart, but you know that if your parents get back, you quickly have to put something back on
You gently lay her down on the tiled floor, and she willingly obliges, and she seems to want you to take over. You lick her large, supple breasts while she looks on, with pleasure and desire in her eyes.
"I am going to tear you apart" Sadie warns
"Rip me apart, if you can"
"With these nails, you'll be all over the floor when I finish with you" she retored.
"Give me a good bonk, Sadie"
"You too, bonk buddy"
You put your hard stick insider her. She gives a pleasurable moan, as she stares at you. You sit up and look at her while you gently massage her breasts. Sadie places her nails on your chest and then gently pulls her hands down. The crackling of her fingernails tells you how much pressure she is placing on her nails.
"Don't worry.... remember my nails are steel hard.... and I always wanted to use them on you"
You massage her breasts, then kiss her passionately on her lips. She locks on eagerly, wanting you to start. You begin your thrust. Slowly at first. Sadie moans in pleasure. She hugs you towards her, pressing your chest onto her breasts. You continue your slow thrust.
You could feel Sadie lining up her nails on your back. The sharp, Square edges worry you a little. Sadie had ripped apples apart before, and you wonder how your back would fare.
"Oh, bonk buddy, faster and faster!!" Sadie whisphered
You start thrusting harder and faster. Sadie moans louder in anticipation. The tension is building more and more. You could feel Sadie's nails start slicing down your back. Where her nails have been, you feel a small, sharp pain, doubtless where her nails had sliced open your skin. You continue thrusting faster. Sadie keeps slicing her nails down your back
"Oh, bonk buddy, that's it... keep going... Oh..." Sadie says, and then she moans louder, and louder as you keep thrusting, faster this time. Sadie looks at you with pleasure and hunger in her eyes. She looked as if she was cheering you on with her moaning.
After an eternity of pleasure, trying to stop the tension from exploding into her, suddenly you feel Sadie's nails start digging into your skin. You feel Sadie convulse as waves of pleasure ripple through her body. The crackle of her nails tell you that the pressure she is exerting on them is extreme. You're afraid that they would snap under the strain.
then Sadie relaxed. She was breathing hard, and was smiling, beaming at you. You could still feel your stick exploding something into her, but she didn't mind.
"Oh, my Gosh, that was stupendous!!!!" Sadie said as she pinched your nose. "I had a great time"
"That was wonderful" you tell Sadie. Sadie smiled and pulled you towards her, so you rested your cheeks on her chest.
"I could hear your heart beating" you tell Sadie. after a few moments you push yourself up. so you are sitting on top of her. She stared at your eyes, and she had a beautiful smile on her face. Then she hold out her nails, only inches from your eyes. You could see underneath her nails close up.
You take note of the perfectly straight edges, the square tips. Their incredible strength doesn't escape you, neither do how sharp Sadie's nails must be. You reach the tea towel on the table, and gently wipe off your blood on her nails. She keeps holding them up for you, waiting contently as you clean her nails for her until they were all white again.
"Are you really excited by my nails?" Sadie asked. Her beautiful red hair spread out like a beautiful silk mat on the tiled floor "I could feel you inside me again"
"Oh, yes... they do" you answer.
"I'm going to give myself a manicure, just for you, but you have to stay here, OK?
"OK"
Sadie grasped you, and pulls you closer. She looks at you for a moment, and then passionately kisses you. You close your eyes. You then feel yourself getting rolled over, and when you open your eyes, Sadie is looking into yours, and she lets go of her kiss, and smiles at you. Her beautiful red hair is now dangling on your chest. She pushes herself off you, but she made sure that her nails scraped your chest.
You watch her curvatious body walk away to her bag
"What color do you want my nails to be?"
"Could you paint them...."
clear please?
red please?
black please?
silver please?
"clear it is, then" Sadie says. She takes out a kit, and a bottle of clear nail polish. She walks back to you, and puts the kit and the polish to one side. She places her palm on your chest. She examines her nails for a moment, then turns to you. "Do you have a little snap lock bag?"
"It's over at the cupboard" you answer. Your heart is beating faster
"My, my, aren't we excited" she giggles as she massages your hard stick for a moment, and then gets up. "Stay there, OK?"
"Ok"
Sadie walked and rummaged around on the cupboard, and then returns with the snap lock bag. She opens it on your chest. She rummages around her kit, and then takes out a sharp pair of nail scissors. Your heart starts beating faster
"What are you doing?" you ask, distressed.
Sadie smirks. She holds out her nail, and then measures off about an inch in length with the scissors. "What do you think I'm, doing?"
"Why are you cutting your nails?"
Sadie smiles. "I'm going to give them to you, silly"
"But I'd rather have...." before I could finish, Sadie had cut across her nail, and after a moment the cut piece dropped on your chest. You almost have a heart attack, but Sadie still had an inch of growth left on her fingers.
"You're silly" said Sadie "I just wanted to give you something to remember me by until next time we bonk". Sadie picked up the half inch piece from your chest with her nails.
"Don't worry" Sadie says "They'll be back to one and a half inches long in about a month"
Sadie cut each and every nail she had back to one inch, and when she had finished, she casually picked up every single one, and put it in the snap lock bag, and sealed it. Sadie then put the nail scissors away, and took out the nail file. Sadie then proceeded to file each and every nail into a square tip.
when she had finished a nail, she would prick them on you. You wince every time she poked you with the sharp, square edge. She would then place the nail on your chest, and casually slice it along. She looked satisfied everytime you said "owww", and a little red welt appeared on your chest
when she finished, she held up all ten nails, and making sure that they were all square. She then took her clear polish. She placed her hand on your chest, and with the other, started painting her nails clear. She made sure that she took her time, letting you observe, and admire her nails. She smiled as she realised that your stick was still very hard.
when she had finished painting her nails, she held them up to dry. "I'm going to be in so much trouble if your parents come home, with both of us naked an all."
"Oh yes we are" you say, still staring at her beautiful clear, one inch long nails, now shining and reflecting the light.
Sadie gently blew on her nails, and then shook her hands to try and dry them off faster
"Enjoy my nail clippings" she said. "I know that you'll have a hard on just looking at them"
"You know I'll be thinking of you when I do"
"You'd better" she warned "or else I'm going to come in and use my nails to destroy you"
"Yes please" you say. Sadie shakes her head, giggling.
Sadie rests her head on your chest, and smiles, while she lays out her hands on the tiles for her nails to dry. You talk to Sadie about other things, and before both of you knew it, you've been on the floor for hours, and your back starts hurting. Sadie helps you up, as her nail polish have now dried.
both of you get dressed. Sadie picks up the bag of nail clippings and gives them to you, then she feels your stick
Sadie smiles as she realises that you are hard again. She climbs up the steps, and kisses you passionately on your lips as she opens the door. "Feel them"
"Feel what?"
"my nails, silly" she says as she pokes your hand with her nail. You reach out and touch them, and run your fingers through, feeling how smooth they are. Sadie waits for you to be contented, and then she holds your face with both hands.
"Thanks for the bonk, bonk buddy" Sadie says "When will I see you again?"
"Whenever you like" you answer. with that, Sadie kisses you once more, and turned and closed the door behind her.
"That was wonderful" you tell Sadie. Sadie smiled and pulled you towards her, so you rested your cheeks on her chest.
"I could hear your heart beating" you tell Sadie. after a few moments you push yourself up. so you are sitting on top of her. She stared at your eyes, and she had a beautiful smile on her face. Then she hold out her nails, only inches from your eyes. You could see underneath her nails close up.
You take note of the perfectly straight edges, the square tips. Their incredible strength doesn't escape you, neither do how sharp Sadie's nails must be.
"Are you really excited by my nails?" Sadie asked. Her beautiful red hair spread out like a beautiful silk mat on the tiled floor "I could feel you inside me again"
"Oh, yes... they do" you answer.
"I'm going to give myself a manicure, just for you, but you have to stay here, OK?
"OK"
Sadie grasped you, and pulls you closer. She looks at you for a moment, and then passionately kisses you. You close your eyes. You then feel yourself getting rolled over, and when you open your eyes, Sadie is looking into yours, and she lets go of her kiss, and smiles at you. Her beautiful red hair is now dangling on your chest. She pushes herself off you after a few moments, but she made sure that her nails scraped your chest. Hard.
You watch her curvatious body walk away to her bag. Her nails dangled like sharpened knives on her sides. She starts clicking them together. The sound they make excites you as they prove to you how strong her nails are.
"What color do you want my nails to be?"
"Could you paint them...."
clear please?
red please?
black please?
silver please?
"red it is, then" Sadie says. She takes out a kit, and a bottle of red nail polish. She walks back to you, and puts the kit and the polish to one side. She places her palm on your chest. She examines her nails for a moment, then turns to you. "Do you have a little snap lock bag?"
"It's over at the cupboard" you answer. Your heart is beating faster
"My, my, aren't we excited" she giggles as she massages your hard stick for a moment, and then gets up. "Stay there, OK?"
"Ok"
Sadie walked and rummaged around on the cupboard, and then returns with the snap lock bag. She opens it on your chest. She rummages around her kit, and then takes out a sharp pair of nail scissors. Your heart starts beating faster
"What are you doing?" you ask, distressed.
Sadie smirks. She holds out her nail, and then measures off about an inch in length with the scissors. "What do you think I'm, doing?"
"Why are you cutting your nails?"
Sadie smiles. "I'm going to give them to you, silly"
"But I'd rather have...." before I could finish, Sadie had cut across her nail, and after a moment the cut piece dropped on your chest. You almost have a heart attack, but Sadie still had an inch of growth left on her fingers.
"You're silly" said Sadie "I just wanted to give you something to remember me by until next time we bonk". Sadie picked up the half inch piece from your chest with her nails.
"Don't worry" Sadie says "They'll be back to one and a half inches long in about a month"
Sadie cut each and every nail she had back to one inch, and when she had finished, she casually picked up every single one, and put it in the snap lock bag, and sealed it. Sadie then put the nail scissors away, and took out the nail file. Sadie then proceeded to file each and every nail into a square tip.
when she had finished a nail, she would prick them on you. You wince every time she poked you with the sharp, square edge. She would then place the nail on your chest, and casually slice it along. She looked satisfied everytime you said "owww", and a little red welt appeared on your chest
when she finished, she held up all ten nails, and making sure that they were all square. She then took her red polish. She placed her hand on your chest, and with the other, started painting her nails red. She made sure that she took her time, letting you observe, and admire her nails. She smiled as she realised that your stick was still very hard.
when she had finished painting her nails, she held them up to dry. "I'm going to be in so much trouble if your parents come home, with both of us naked an all."
"Oh yes we are" you say, still staring at her beautiful red, one inch long nails, now shining and reflecting the light.
Sadie gently blew on her nails, and then shook her hands to try and dry them off faster
"Enjoy my nail clippings" she said. "I know that you'll have a hard on just looking at them"
"You know I'll be thinking of you when I do"
"You'd better" she warned "or else I'm going to come in and use my nails to destroy you"
"Yes please" you say. Sadie shakes her head, giggling.
Sadie rests her head on your chest, and smiles, while she lays out her hands on the tiles for her nails to dry. You talk to Sadie about other things, and before both of you knew it, you've been on the floor for hours, and your back starts hurting. Sadie helps you up, as her nail polish have now dried.
both of you get dressed. Sadie picks up the bag of nail clippings and gives them to you, then she feels your stick
Sadie smiles as she realises that you are hard again. She climbs up the steps, and kisses you passionately on your lips as she opens the door. "Feel them"
"Feel what?"
"my nails, silly" she says as she pokes your hand with her nail. You reach out and touch them, and run your fingers through, feeling how smooth they are. Sadie waits for you to be contented, and then she holds your face with both hands.
"Thanks for the bonk, bonk buddy" Sadie says "When will I see you again?"
"Whenever you like" you answer. with that, Sadie kisses you once more, and turned and closed the door behind her.
"You know that apples are no problem for my nails, right?" she asked, giggling as she kisses you gently again.
You stare at her 1 and a half inch long talons, wondering how nails so long could have such incredible strength, and how perfect they were in length - all her nails were one and a half inches long
Sadie held up all 10 nails to you, making sure that you could see underneath them, making sure you could see how perfectly square they were at the edges. She smiled as she turned them around so you could see them "naked". They curved down every so slightly, and was miraculously straight, despite how long they were
She had no polish on, but her nails were so white that it looked as if she had a French manicure. You have a hard on just looking at them
"Are you ready to see me rip an apple apart now?" she asked
You sigh, and breath deeply, and she smiled.
"I just love tearing apples apart... It's good practice for me when you bonk me". You shiver at the thought of what she would do with her nails once the action starts
she reached over the fruit basket on the table and rested her index nail on the apple
"watch" Sadie said as she rested her index nail on top of the apple skin, and a moment later pushed in her nail, puncturing the apple with apparent ease. She looked like she took pleasure at her nail effortlessly sinking into the apple, with the apple flesh making a crunching sound as it tried - and failed - to stop her nail sinking through it.
Sadie brought the apple across and held it up less than half a foot from your eyes.
"One of the things that apples can't do... is stop my nails" she Said. She made a claw with her other hand and rested her talons on the apple.
"I've found that the hardest thing with tearing apart apples... is deciding which kind to rip to shreds" she said as her nails stared to sink into the apple.
"My nails being as strong as they are..." the apple once again made a crunching sound as Sadie's nails mercilessly punctured their way through, until all her nails, every one of the one and a half inches were buried into the apple flesh.
"...the apple flesh is just no match. My nails just come sraight through. No problems whatsoever"
Sadie took out the index nail, and made a claw with her hand. She glances at you and then effortlessly sank her other five fingernails into the apple. The crunching sound was music, as if the apple was crying out for mercy.
"Now for the grande finale" she said. The apple juice was starting to ooze down her hands. You reach over, and slowly licked off the apple juice from her hands. Sadie stares at you as if she wanted to have you. You finish licking, and then stare at her incredible fingernails, all buried into the hapless apple flesh
She started to tug apart the apple. A moment later I heard a sickening crunching sound as the apple cracked under the pressure of her nails, and ripped apart in the middle. Sadie continued to tug, with the force being transferred to her nails, which in turn ripped the apple apart.
In another few moments, Sadie was finished. She had completely ripped the apple in two. Each piece was sitting on a palm, and she held them up to you.
"Did you like it?" she asked, giggling. your smile and longing seems to answer the question for her
Sadie put the apple halves on the table. "Could you lick my fingers clean?"
"Ok" You say. Sadie inserted her pinky nail into your mouth, and slowly pulled it out again, making sure you licked off all the juice - or to make sure you could savour her nail in your mouth, and how strong they were
Sadie stares into your eyes as she pulls out her nail. She made sure that she put each and every nail into your mouth, each one taking longer to pull out than the last. By the last pinky nail, she practically leaves it in your mouth for you to suck on before she slowly slid it out of your mouth.
As soon as she had pulled out her last nail, she held them out to examine them, but it also made sure that you could see underneath them. They looked so incredible, and was still in the same shape as they were before - square, no kinks or dents, a testimony to the strength of her natural fingernails
"Thanks for sucking my nails clean, bonk buddy" Sadie said, and then she reached over and kisses you... gently, then passionately. She then grasps your stick, and smiled.
"What do you want me to do with my nails now, bonk buddy?" Sadie asked, looking at her nails.
"could you please...."
tear apart a banana
tell me how strong your nails are
scratch my arm
allow me to screw you"
Sadie smiled as she reached over for the banana on the fruit bowl. She lined up all the nails of her hand on the side of the banana
"You're not going to...." you say. Sadie turns to you and stared into your eyes. She then turned to the banana again and sank her nails into the banana. Her nails were so long, and strong, that when they punctured through to the other side of the banana, her nails went straight through the next one on the bunch.
"I'm not going to what?" asked Sadie. She put her other thumbnail on the part where the banana was joined to the bunch, and with a sickening crack, her nail punctured through, slicing off the top of the banana. Sadie was then able to pull the banana free
"I was going to say... break a nail" you continue
"Don't be silly" Sadie said "My nails are far too strong to break off when tearing through fruits like this"
Sadie held the poor, punctured banana close to you, and slowly rotated it, making sure that you could see her nails buried all the way into it, and of course, her nails sticking out on the other side. Sadie's nails were all so perfectly square
Sadie then took her other hand, and lined up her nails. A few moments later her nails again started to sink, and punctured all the way to the other side
"This is just toooooo easy" Sadie said, giggling, as she took out her nails, leaving 5 crescent shaped holes. She lined up her nails again, and with a little crack, again her nails punctured through
"This is fun!" Sadie said. She took out her nails, and punctured them again into the banana. The fruit was rapidly turning into a convoluted mass of torn apart flesh as Sadie effortlessly dug her nails, and took them out again.
finally, after a few moments, the banana simply fell apart into a tangled mess of sliced and ripped flesh. Sadie smiles at you and reached for the next banana along the bunch, the one with the puncture wounds on it.
She simply rested her thumbnail where the banana was on the bunch, and then sank her nail through, as if nothing was there to stop it. The cracking sound was amazing. Sadie just yanked off the banana and hovers them in front of you. Her nails were full of bits of ripped apart banana.
"Would you like a banana, bonk buddy?" she asked, smiling
"Please feed me, bonk buddy" You reply. Sadie smiled and rested her index nail on the banana skin. She pressed slightly, and her nail punctured through, just enough to break the skin. Then she dragged her nail all the way down, slicing the skin open. She rotated the banana slightly and then broke the skin again
Sadie sliced down the banana skin again, and again, and then she peeled it off, exposing the banana flesh. Sadie then took her pinky nail and stabbed near the top of the banana. Her nail easily sank into the flesh, and then she tugged
A few moments later the banana piece was ripped off. She put the banana piece closer to you, and you open your mouth. Sadie spoons the banana into your mouth with her long, elegant nail, and you close your mouth, smiling. Sadie smiles back
"feel them, bonk buddy, feel them with your tongue" You swirl your tongue around the banana, and then you feel the wonderful pinky nail that is in your mouth. You discover how smooth and sharp they are as you dance your tongue around her nail, taking care not to cut yourself. Sadie smiles as she feels you exploring her nail. Sadie stares into your eyes as she slowly withdraws her nail from your mouth.
Sadie then inserts her ring nail into your mouth, and you do the same. Sadie slowly takes out her nail, and you suck off the bits of banana flesh from them. Sadie does the same for the rest of the nails on her hand, smiling as you suck away all the bits of banana flesh, savouring the pleasure as you suck to her fingertips.
Sadie changes hands and she does the same, getting you to suck away all the bits of banana flesh.
"Just enjoy sucking on my nails, bonk buddy.... don't worry.... there is no rush.... I love what you're doing...." Sadie whisphered.
After you finished sucking on her last nail, Sadie then stabs her thumb nail into the banana, and rips off almost a third of the banana. As you watch, she spoons this into her mouth, and then sucks away at her nail, all the time staring into your eyes.
Sadie peels off to the bottom of the banana. She glances at you to make sure that you are watching, and then lines up her middle and index nail on the last banana bit. Sadie pushes her fingers, and her nails easily puncture through the banana flesh, penetrating all the way to the other side, and sticks out almost half an inch on the other side.
Sadie then twists the banana, and the banana is yanked off the banana peel, which she puts on the table. She then forces her fingers apart, and with ease, the banana rips in two, each piece impaled on one of her nails. She spoons the banana piece impaled on her index nail into your mouth. Sadie smiles as you suck off the banana from her fingernail, and the other banana piece she puts in her mouth, and she sucks off the banana from her nail, slowly
Sadie smiles and rubs your stick again.
"anything else you want to do before we have hot steaming sex?" Sadie asks
"Please..... "
rip apart an apple
tell me how strong your nails are
scratch my arm
allow me to screw you"
"Yesss..." Sadie said, as you extend your arm to her. "This might hurt a little bit, depending on how thick your skin is"
"My skin is pretty thick" you respond
"and my nails are razor sharp" Sadie giggled back "Just imagine these one and a half inch long nails of mine are knives, although they're supposed to be blunted at the end because of their square shape"
"I suppose their lack of nail polish would affect their performance?" you ask
I usually find that they don't seem so sharp with nail polish on, although they would be marginally stronger.... but we'll see"
Sadie grabbed your hand, and with her other hand started to scratch me with her pinky nail first. As she slid down her nail you could see a tiny red welt forming on the skin.
"Just imagine what I could do to someone with these nails if they annoy me, bonk buddy" Sadie said "I could do so much damage with these
You look at her pinky nail just going up and down your arm, and in an instant you could imagine her nails slicing into your arm deeper, and deeper until it breaks the skin and get to your flesh.... It's not so hard to imagine her nails slicing all the way to your bone, given their length.
Sadie continued to scratch with her pinky nail, and then suddenly she started scraping with all the nails of her hand. She smiled at me as she continued to look at her handy work. My arm was starting to form quite deep, red welts.
"Oh, look at what my razor sharp, steel hard fingernails are doing to your arm!!" said Sadie, almost excitedly. You look on, half in horror and half in awe as you hear her nails crackle as she drags them slowly up your arm
Sadie now started all the way up from your shoulders, forcing back the sleeve of your shirt
"Sorry about your shirt" said Sadie "I don't want to slice them to ribbons"
"You probably could, you know"
"No doubt about it, given the strength and sharpness of my nails
Sadie started to scratch harder, and her nails were crackling as if they enjoyed raking into your skin.
"Hold your arm up" Sadie asked. You oblige, and she started using both her hands. the crackling of her nails were incredible, and Sadie looked as if she really wanted to slice open your arm. Each rake of her nails brought fresh, new welts on your arm. You start wincing at the pain
"Are my nails too much for you?" Sadie asked, smiling, and she continued to slice into your arm "I can really slice you up with my nails if you really wanted to. Do you want to?"
"Yes please"
Sadie touched your stick "Ok, so long as I get a good bonk, and no wincing at the end, OK?"
"OK"
Sadie started to scratch harder and harder, and your arm starts to look as if it's been whipped, but Sadie kept scratching. Then, she did it. She started on top of your shoulders, and then very quickly drags her nails down, opening up cruel, bleeding welts on your arm
"ARRRRGGGG!!!!" You scream, but that brought giggles to Sadie as she continued to rake your arm. She raked her nails again, and then you saw the blood come out, slowly at first, then you see it start trickling. Sadie grabs a tea towel and puts them on your arm. You cover the wounds, wincing at each touch of the towel.
"So sorry, bonk buddy, but I really enjoy doing that" Sadie smiled, looking so cute with her creased brow of concern.
"I asked for it" You explain, holding the towel down on your bleeding arm
"Um, bonk buddy" Sadie asked "could I please slice your arm with this nail?" she held up her index nail
"OK then" you say
"From your shoulders?" she asked
"Yes please"
Sadie placed her index nail on top of your shoulder, making sure that the pointy edges of her square fingernail was touching your skin. She pressed harder, making you wince again, but before you could protest, she had sliced her nail down on your arm, opening up a mean, deep gash. Sadie appeared to enjoy watching her incredibly sharp fingernail slice you open. Sadie stopped momentarily when she reached the towel, but she peeled this out of the way, and continued slicing down your arm until she stopped at your wrist. She rested for a moment or two, and then she pulled out her nail, which had drops of your blood
Sadie cleaned her nails on the towel until it was completely white again.
"You look a little pale" she teased "have you lost some blood?"
You shake your head, but you could feel that your whole arm is possibly starting to swell, but, apart from the many red and bleeding welts, it appeared to be fine.
"What do you want me to do now?"
"Please..."
rip apart an apple
tear apart a banana
tell me how strong your nails are
allow me to screw you
"silver it is, then" Sadie says. She takes out a kit, and a bottle of silver nail polish. She walks back to you, and puts the kit and the polish to one side. She places her palm on your chest. She examines her nails for a moment, then turns to you. "Do you have a little snap lock bag?"
"It's over at the cupboard" you answer. Your heart is beating faster
"My, my, aren't we excited" she giggles as she massages your hard stick for a moment, and then gets up. "Stay there, OK?"
"Ok"
Sadie walked and rummaged around on the cupboard, and then returns with the snap lock bag. She opens it on your chest. She rummages around her kit, and then takes out a sharp pair of nail scissors. Your heart starts beating faster
"What are you doing?" you ask, distressed.
Sadie smirks. She holds out her nail, and then measures off about an inch in length with the scissors. "What do you think I'm, doing?"
"Why are you cutting your nails?"
Sadie smiles. "I'm going to give them to you, silly"
"But I'd rather have...." before I could finish, Sadie had cut across her nail, and after a moment the cut piece dropped on your chest. You almost have a heart attack, but Sadie still had an inch of growth left on her fingers.
"You're silly" said Sadie "I just wanted to give you something to remember me by until next time we bonk". Sadie picked up the half inch piece from your chest with her nails.
"Don't worry" Sadie says "They'll be back to one and a half inches long in about a month"
Sadie cut each and every nail she had back to one inch, and when she had finished, she casually picked up every single one, and put it in the snap lock bag, and sealed it. Sadie then put the nail scissors away, and took out the nail file. Sadie then proceeded to file each and every nail into a square tip.
when she had finished a nail, she would prick them on you. You wince every time she poked you with the sharp, square edge. She would then place the nail on your chest, and casually slice it along. She looked satisfied everytime you said "owww", and a little red welt appeared on your chest
when she finished, she held up all ten nails, and making sure that they were all square. She then took her silver polish. She placed her hand on your chest, and with the other, started painting her nails silver. She made sure that she took her time, letting you observe, and admire her nails. She smiled as she realised that your stick was still very hard.
when she had finished painting her nails, she held them up to dry. "I'm going to be in so much trouble if your parents come home, with both of us naked an all."
"Oh yes we are" you say, still staring at her beautiful silver, one inch long nails, now shining and reflecting the light.
Sadie gently blew on her nails, and then shook her hands to try and dry them off faster
"Enjoy my nail clippings" she said. "I know that you'll have a hard on just looking at them"
"You know I'll be thinking of you when I do"
"You'd better" she warned "or else I'm going to come in and use my nails to destroy you"
"Yes please" you say. Sadie shakes her head, giggling.
Sadie rests her head on your chest, and smiles, while she lays out her hands on the tiles for her nails to dry. You talk to Sadie about other things, and before both of you knew it, you've been on the floor for hours, and your back starts hurting. Sadie helps you up, as her nail polish have now dried.
both of you get dressed. Sadie picks up the bag of nail clippings and gives them to you, then she feels your stick
Sadie smiles as she realises that you are hard again. She climbs up the steps, and kisses you passionately on your lips as she opens the door. "Feel them"
"Feel what?"
"my nails, silly" she says as she pokes your hand with her nail. You reach out and touch them, and run your fingers through, feeling how smooth they are. Sadie waits for you to be contented, and then she holds your face with both hands.
"Thanks for the bonk, bonk buddy" Sadie says "When will I see you again?"
"Whenever you like" you answer. with that, Sadie kisses you once more, and turned and closed the door behind her.
Sadie smiled. "I thought you'd never ask". She puts her hands on your lap, and starts raking her nails gently on your jeans
"I've told you that I've started growing my nails about 2 years ago, when I was 14, right?"
"Yep..."
"Well, that's pretty much the time that I discovered the incredible strength that my nails have"
"Oh..." you respond. Sadie looked at her nails as she kept slowly raking them on your pants, as if to make sure that you heard her nails crackle... either that or she was making sure that she didn't rip your jeans to ribbons.
"I started by just not cutting them.... that was OK.... I was amazed just how fast they grew, you know... They grew half an inch in just over 4 weeks. I couldn't believe it"
"Wow"
"Because I was doing a lot of sports and stuff, like basketball, and softball, and netball, I wanted to keep my nails long, so I had to tape them"
"Ok"
"Then I thought, one day, when I was painting my nails, and I stared at them... why not just let them be? I spend a lot of time just repainting them because of the tapes I have to put on them... I decided at that time, that I would just paint them clear, and if they break, then they break."
"I was so nervous on my first basketball game with no tapes. My friends joked that I would have broken all my nails by half time. I was beside myself with worry"
"But then we had the game. I was dribbling hard. I think half the boys were staring at this girl with long nails playing basketball, but I didn't care. At half time, I almost forgot, but I noticed that they were all still half an inch long. they were rounded at the tips at that time, and they didn't break. I went through the rest of the game forgetting about my nails, and on the way home I inspected them.... not a nail was broken.
"That was the first time that I thought... how much punishment and pressure can my nails take without breaking?"
"Wowwee! Then what happened?" you ask eagerly. Sadie seemed like she was enjoying herself
"That was when I started "testing" my nails" Sadie continued "Just imagine... this 14 year old girl with half inch long nails... starting out to find out just how strong her nails are. The very first thing I tore apart was a tomato"
"Really?" you ask
"Yeah... I remember it very well. It was late at night, just after my nail polish had dried.... I went down to our kitchen and I was looking for something to eat, and then it occurred to me that I wanted to test the strength of my nails... The first thing I found was a tomato. I was amazed how quickly my nails just sank into that thing. I enjoyed that..." Sadie sighed as she remembered
"I spent a few moments just making sure I ripped that thing apart... It was so pleasurable that I got another tomato, and tore it apart faster than I did the first one"
"Oh wow" you sigh
"Oh, yeah. When I finished I had to clean up with a rug because I killed the tomato so thoroughly.
"Oh, man"
"Oh, yeah. My nails continued to grow, and when I turned 15, because of my parents, I kept them at one inch, but I was able to square them off. By then I was ripping apart apples with my nails. The first apple I tore apart was just so easy. It was then that I knew that my nails were stronger than anyone's in my grade" said Sadie. Her nails were now raking more strongly on your pants.
"I had to give up sports anyway because of my academic studies. I wanted to do law, so I focused on maths and english. It was a bonus anyway, because I was able to keep my nails long. Eventually I stopped worrying about breaking my nails. I just had the confidence that they would still be long when I finished doing stuff"
"One day somebody threw a ball at me, and I blocked it with my hands. It hit one of my nails first. Looking back at it now, my nails were so strong that I could have punctured the ball if it hit me harder. When I got the ball, there was a little slice on the rubber where it hit my nail. Obviously my nail was undamaged"
"Naturally I tore him to shreds with my nails. I sank my nails into his arms and face! There was his blood everywhere. I was astounded none of my nails broke. I knew from that time that they must have been super strong. One of my friends called me "Lady deathstrike", but what would she know"
"Yeah" you said
"I'm sure I could use my nails to declaw that catwoman.... These nails would cut straight through steel"
"Are you serious?" you ask. Sadie was raking her nails hard on your pants now
"Yeah" Sadie said, feigning surprise "My nails have been getting much stronger since I've grown them. I ripped apart a safe the other day with these nails" Sadie giggled as she winked at you
"Uh-huh" you say "and what were you getting?"
"I needed to get my mom's gun... I wanted to see if the bullet bounces off or is squashed against my nails!" Sadie examined her thumbnail "I think maybe it would get squashed.... my nails are now super strong!!"
I shook my head in disbelief
"It's true!" Sadie said, smiling "Steel is so much like apple flesh - it just can't stop my nails sinking through. My moms hates it. this is her 3rd safe that she had to buy!"
"Uh-huh" you say
"Anyway, as I was saying, tearing apart safes is something that my nails have absolutely no trouble with. You know, bonk buddy, once, last year, I have to tell you this story. My mom asked me to chop some wood. The stupid thing is that she forgot to leave the keys to the garage, so I didn't have the axe."
"What did you do?"
"Well" she began "My nails were the same length they were now, about one and a half inches. I put the first piece of wood on the block. I thought.. what the hey... I put these babies on the wood, and I pushed. You know what happened?"
"No.. what"
"I couldn't believe it... the strength of my nails were proven that day... My nails just sank into the wood, all the way through. I was so excited! Then I put my other hand on the wood and sank my other nails into the wood. Then I started to pull. It was hard at first, and then CRACK! The wood started to split. I pulled harder. I wasn't even touching the wood with my fingers then. Nothing but my nails. It was sickening to hear, but.. so exciting just to see my nails prove how strong they were. After a little while tugging, I finally ripped the wood apart! It was so invigorating that I managed to split 10 blocks of wood with my nails before my mom got home. Then I had to use the axe. You know what? The axe took longer!!"
"Wow" you exclaim. Sadie was giggling at you. She then held your stick and put her hair back
"What else do you want me to do?"
"Please..."
rip apart an apple
tear apart a banana
scratch my arm
allow me to screw you
"with pleasure" Sadie said as she ripped off her top, and her dress, and kissed you passionately. You stick your tongue into her mouth
You felt Sadie trying to tear your clothes off, and you oblige, taking off your T-shirt, while she unbuttoned your pants. You look at her attempting to unbutton you and you think why she doesn't simply tear your pants apart, but you know that if your parents get back, you quickly have to put something back on
You feel yourself being forced back onto the hard, tiled floor, with Sadie still kissing you passionately. You touch her large breasts, while her long, red hair dangles down on you like a smooth, silky curtain.
Sadie sits on your stick, and she lets out a moan, as your stick is so hard
"I am going to tear you apart" Sadie warns
"Rip me apart, if you can"
"With these nails, you'll be all over the floor when I finish with you" she retored. She started moving up and down on your stick
"Give me a good bonk, Sadie"
"You too, bonk buddy"
Sadie stopped going up and down, and then scraped her nails on my chest
"Do you like it?" she asked
"Oh yes, I do" you respond. Sadie scratches you a few more time on your chest, and then concentrates on moving herself up and down. You massage her breasts, which produced another moan from Sadie. Her eyes were closed, taking in the pleasure that you are giving her
Sadie licks her lips as she kept going up and down on your stick. The tension was buidling, on yourself, and her. You start going up and down on your own, trying to increase your pleasure. As your tension increases, Sadie starts getting faster and faster, and moans louder and louder. You could feel her talons resting on your chest, and you wonder how long this would last. Sadie was savouring the experience, and you, for your part, was making sure each thrust was worth the effort.
Sadie's mouth was open, and she started putting her hair up. you notice for the first time how beautiful she really is, and the slight freckles on her face highlights her beauty. Sadie's pleasure must have been intense, as she was almost screaming as she thumped up and down your stick. you stare at her as she opens her eyes, and stares down at you. You keep massaging her breasts, and she puts her hands on yours, making sure that your hands are pressing down on her breasts, giving her maximum pleasure.
Sadie continued to stare at you, and you could almost tell that the tension was immense, and she was about to go.
"You are so beautiful" you whisper, massaging her breasts
Sadie smiles, and after a moment, the whole complexion of her face changed, as the waves of pleasure rippled through her whole body, and you felt yourself explode into her. Sadie dug her nails into your chest hard. Very hard. You could almost feel the intense pressure that her nails were in. You heard the crackling as Sadie put more pressure on her nails. You were afraid that one of her nails was about to snap.
then Sadie relaxed. She was breathing hard, and was smiling. You could still feel your stick exploding something into her, but she didn't mind.
"Oh, my Gosh, that was stupendous!!!!" Sadie said as she pinched your nose. "I had a great time"
"That was wonderful" you tell Sadie. Sadie smiled and rested her cheeks on your chest.
"I could hear your heart beating" said Sadie. after a few moments she pushed herself off you. She stared at your eyes, and she had a beautiful smile on her face. Then she hold out her nails, only inches from your eyes. You could see underneath her nails close up. You take note of the perfectly straight edges, the square tips. Their incredible strength doesn't escape you, neither do how sharp Sadie's nails must be
"Are you really excited by my nails?" Sadie asked. Her beautiful red hair dangled on your chest "I could feel you inside me again"
"Oh, yeah..." you answer.
"I'm going to give myself a manicure, just for you, but you have to stay here, OK?
"OK"
Sadie pushed herself off you and you watch her curvatious body walk away to her bag
"What color do you want my nails to be?"
"Could you paint them...."
clear please?
red please?
black please?
silver please?
-
SCRATCHED FROM THE TEAM
SCRATCHED FROM THE TEAM
Trent was an NFL player enjoying some recreation time at his house in an exclusive
desert oasis subdivision about fifty miles outside a major southwestern city. As hed
done every night for the past two weeks, dressed in a short-sleeved shirt, chinos and
sandals, he hopped in his new Mercedes S600 AMG, and headed for the city to pick up
hot women. With his good looks and football fame, the only challenge was choosing
between the multitudes of incredibly beautiful young women who would offer
themselves up.
That night, the football star didnt even need to go all the way into the city. After hed
driven about thirty miles, he spied a young woman walking toward him along the
opposite side of the road, and she started waving her arms. Trent quickly did a u-turn and
pulled over. He lowered the dark-tinted window and said, "Need a ride?" "Sure do! My
car broke down like three miles back," she said. It was dark outside but in the moonlight
Trent could see that she was unbelievably hot. She said her name was Michelle, she had
long blonde hair and a little silver ring in one side of her perfectly-shaped nose. She was
wearing a t-shirt and a short, tight skirt, and canvas shoes that resembled ballet slippers.
Trent unlocked the doors and Michelle got in the passenger seat . "Oh my god, I know
you ! Youre that football player, right?" Michelle said. Trent thought to himself
touchdown. "Guilty as charged," Trent said. "Say," he went on, "I was going into
town but Ive got a fantastic place back in the desert, that is if you would like to come, er,
have a drink with me…" "Sounds great," Michelle smiled. The tires squealed on the big,
black Mercedes as Trent hit the gas.
"Mind if I stretch out?" Michelle asked. "Go for it," Trent said. Michelle reclined the
seat and closed her eyes, and Trent glanced over and admired Michelles smoking-hot
body. Perfect, firm breasts filled her t-shirt to capacity, accented by the silhouette of
large, hard nipples. Long, toned bare legs rose to a thin waist and flat stomach, with a
gentle curve to her hips, and a firm, tight ass. "Enjoying the scenery?" she asked, her
eyes still closed, taking for granted that Trent was checking her out. "Oh yeah!" Trent
said, unashamed. Michelle opened her eyes and turned on her side facing Trent. She
smiled a sexy smile and licked her lips. "Wanna know my five favorite things?"
Michelle asked. "Uh huh, sure," Trent answered, although really he didnt care.
Michelle said "Going really fast in really expensive cars. Really hot guys with really big
dicks. And fucking really hot guys with really big dicks while going really fast in
expensive cars," she said with a sexy laugh. "Thats only four things," Trent said.
Michelle reached across, undid his belt and slipped her hand into his underpants. Feeling
sharp pricks on his quickly-hardening cock, Trent shouted "Ouch! Damn, girl, your nails
are sharp!" "Ya think?" Michelle said, withdrawing his cock and spreading her ten
fingers. Trent gasped. Being a typical guy who was into boobs and ass, he was noticing
for the first time that Michelles clear-polished, natural fingernails were an inch long,
gently curved, and filed to needle-sharp points. "Say hello to my little friends," Michelle
said with a fake Cuban accent, and wiggling her taloned fingers. "Thats from
Scarface," Michelle snickered, "Get the irony?" Jock that he was, Trent looked at her
puzzled. Quickly, Michelle sliced Trents cheek with her pointed nails. "Shit!" he
screamed. "Number five is scratching," she said lustfully.
Trent touched his hand to his cheek and could feel he was bleeding. "Fuck!" he yelled,
and the big Mercedes swerved into the oncoming lane and quickly back again and then
briefly onto the shoulder, before he finally he got it going straight again. He hit the
brakes and steered onto the shoulder, but Michelle said, "Keep driving." Trent turned
toward Michelle and started to make a grab for her. "Unh unh," she said, "I know what
youre thinking. Im a big, strong guy and shes a weak, little woman. I could
overpower her easily. But, seeing as how my nails are as sharp as knives and could
castrate you or blind you in an instant, you need to ask yourself Do I feel lucky? Well,
do ya, punk?" Trent hesitated, then withdrew his arm. "Tee hee," Michelle giggled,
"You probably guessed by now that Im, like, a total movie buff." It began to dawn on
him that Michelle was psycho, and a fearful Trent steered back onto the road and began
to accelerate slowly. "Floor it!" Michelle commanded, and Trent obeyed. "Good boy,"
she said as the force of the powerful cars acceleration pushed her against the seat.
Michelle leaned back in her seat and stretched languidly, like a cat. "Nice car," she said.
Trent heard ripping sounds and quickly glanced over, and Michelle was looking at him
with a twinkle in her gray eyes, her sharp-pointed nails leaving long scratchmarks in the
black leather seat. "Shit!" he screamed. Wide-eyed and smiling she asked him "Can you
believe how sharp my nails are?" Then she told him to get a good grip on the wheel, and
reached her hand under his short shirtsleeve and dragged her nails down his bicep from
his shoulder to his elbow, leaving long, thin, bleeding scratches. As Trent fought to keep
the speeding Mercedes from launching off the road, Michelle stretched her long, toned
leg and placed her bare foot on his hand which gripped the wheel white-knuckled.
"Careful baby, keep it on the road," she scolded him. Trent looked at her lovely foot and
saw that while her clear-polished toenails werent very longmaybe 1/4 inch at the
mostthey were also filed to sharp points like her fingernails. Seeing he had noticed her
toenails, Michelle laughed, "To answer the question on your mind, yes. Theyre really
sharp too," and she curled her toes and slashed her pointed toenails down the back of his
hand, leaving five thin scratches that instantly filled with his blood.
As big and powerful and macho as Trent was, he was truly terrified of the delicate young
woman next to him, in much the same way that a big, buck antelope would fear a much-
smaller cheetah. And for much the same reason: her sharp-pointed lethal claws.
Michelle combed back her beautiful long blonde hair with her taloned fingers, and
leaned over Trents lap where his half-limp dick lay against his open trousers. Using her
nails and teeth, she tore his underpants away, and then she pulled his trousers down to his
knees, catching him with her curved, pointed fingernails and raking bleeding
scratchmarks along his thighs. Trent writhed from the pain but just then her slender,
warm fingers wrapped around his dick and with one gentle stroke of her velvet-soft palm
he was rock-hard. "Mmmmm, ohhhhhhhh," Michelle moaned, and she began to gently
lick her tongue around the rim of his engorged cockhead and gently kiss and suck it with
her hot, tender lips. She cupped his balls in her other hand, and as she felt them tighten
when he was about to come, she sat up. "Do you like me?" she asked Trent in a sincere
voice. "Y-yeah," he answered. "Do you want me?" Michelle asked, still sincere. "God
yeah!" Trent said, boiling with lust and desire for her to continue sucking him off. "How
bad do you want me?" she asked, her voice now becoming teasing. "Shit, I want you
really bad. Please!" Trent begged. Michelle leaned over Trents lap and with her lips
almost touching his dick, she said in an innocent-little-schoolgirl voice, ""I want to sit on
your lap." As she said it, her breath caressed his throbbing cockhead. She sat up and,
with Trent glancing quickly back and forth between the road ahead and Michelle in the
corner of his eye, she slowly pulled her t-shirt and skirt off and wriggled out of her red
silk thong. Michelle moaned softly as she massaged her perky breasts and huge nipples.
Then she slowly massaged her glistening-wet pussy and crawled under Trents arm and
onto his lap. She sat with her back against him, and with him being six-foot-five there
was plenty of room for her tight, slender body between his chest and the steering wheel.
She looked down and his huge, erect cock jutted up in front of her between her legs.
Michelle began to slide forward and back along Trents dick, rubbing her clit against the
top of his shaft like riding a pole. She moaned loudly and turned her head sideways and
bit into his hard, rippling bicep, at the same time clenching her inch-long, needle-sharp
pointed fingernails into his bare thighs and digging them in deeply with all her strength
"Aaaggggh, shit!" Trent screamed, straining valiantly to keep the speeding Mercedes
from flying off the highway. Michelle stretched her long, toned right leg down along
Trents right leg. He felt her soft, bare foot against his own sandaled foot, and then
suddenly there was an excruciating pain when Michelle stabbed her sharp-pointed
toenails into the tops of his toes and forced the accelerator to the floor.
"Ohhhhh, fuuuuuccccckkkkk!!!" Trent shrieked as the powerful AMG-tuned Mercedes
V-12 roared and the speedometer needle climbed rapidly past 100mph, 120, 130, 140,
150 and finally settled down just shy of 165mph. Trents eyes bulged and his knuckles
were snow-white gripping the wheel with all his might. Trent tried to brake with his left
foot but Michelle clawed his thigh deep and hard with her fingernails and also the
toenails of her left foot, and he couldnt hit the pedal. Meanwhile Michelle continued to
ride her pussy against Trents cock shaft. Her eyes were closed and she was moaning
louder and louder, digging her pointed fingernails deeper and deeper into Trents thighs
and pressing her pointed toenails deeper and deeper into his foot against the accelerator.
The miles whisked by at breakneck speed on the straight, deserted desert highway, as
Trent fought to keep his Mercedes from crashing, while suffering the incredible pain of
Michelles twenty knife-point-sharp nails digging and gouging his flesh. After almost ten
minutes of that hell, Trent felt Michelle begin to come down from her orgasm and release
the stabbing pressure on his accelerator foot. When the big sedan slowed to 70mph,
which seemed like a snails pace after 165mph, Michelle clicked on the cruise-control
and turned around on her knees, facing Trent.
Michelles lips were plump from lust as she slowly kissed Trent, keeping her head to one
side so he could see the road. She made little giggles and soft moans of pleasure, licking
and kissing and sucking his upper chest and neck. His rock-hard dick stood vertically
erect, sandwiched between her crotch and his stomach, and he couldnt help but long to
be inside her. "Fuck me," he whispered hoarsely. Michelle made a soft giggling laugh
and very gently teased his cock head with the points of her fingernails. Trent groaned
with lust and pleasure. Michelle put her hand against the car window, and Trent could
feel pain in the nerves of every one of his teeth as her pointed fingernails screeched
across the glass, leaving five wavy scratches. "Patience, baby. Youre going to get
soooo fucked tonight," she drawled with a laugh.
With the car traveling a steady 70mph, Michelle leaned back against the steering wheel
and pulled her beautiful, toned legs from under her. She stretched them up straight and
Trent heard a ripping sound from above as Michelles pointed toenails tore the headliner
of his Mercedes, then she wrapped her legs around his neck and down his back.
"Owwwshhhhhiiiiiittt!" he cried as she raked his back with her knife-sharp toenails and
sank her fingernails into his shoulders, pulling herself up. Then she lowered herself
slowly until she was fully impailed on his huge cock. "Oohhhhhnnnnng," he groaned,
feeling her tighten her pussy around his dick and begin to grind herself very, very slowly
against him. The pleasure of finally feeling himself inside her hot, wet pussy dulled the
pain of her pointed talons and he almost forgot they were imbedded in his shoulders.
Michelle put her head next to Trents and he could feel her hot breath in his ear.
"Meeooww," she sang softly, as she clawed her knife-pointed inch-long fingernails
slowly down his shoulders and biceps to his elbows.
"Aaaaaaiiiiiiiieeeeeee….." Trent wailed as her ungodly-sharp talons tore through his
muscles. "Please….please….stop!" he pleaded. Michelle laughed. "Let me pull over.
Please, Im begging you!" Trent bawled. "I dont think so," she said. And then she
kissed him tenderly. Trent was again overtaken by lust and he began to breathe heavily.
"You love my kisses, dont you?" Michelle said softly as she kissed him again. "Ohhh,
God, youre incredible," Trent groaned. "And you love my body, dont you?" Michelle
said in a lusty whisper. "Ohhh, Jesus, fuck," Trent moaned loudly as her full breasts and
hard nipples rubbed gently against his chest as they rose and fell to the slow rhythm of
her riding his rock-hard cock. Following her lead, Trent growled "You love my big, hard
dick, dont you?" Michelle laughed, and whispered in Trents ear, "I love to scratch
you." "Aaaaaaahhhhhggggggghhhhh…." Trent bellowed as Michelle clenched her inch-
long razor-sharp pointed fingernails into his pecs and quickly ripped them back out.
Only through the sheer will to survive did he not lose control of the speeding car. Before
he had time to recover though, Michelle wrapped her arms around him and sank her
talons deep into his muscular neck and sliced slowly down his back. Trent screamed
again, and Michelle began to ride him harder. "Please, God, I cant take any more!" he
begged her. "Oh, baby, I think you can," she laughed, resting her elbows on his
collarbone, sinking her claws into his hairline, and clawing his scalp to the back of his
neck. Trent screamed and could feel blood trickling down his face as his scalp burned
like fire from her sharp nails. "Ok, you can pull over," Michelle said, and Trent
gratefully slowed the big Mercedes onto the shoulder and came to a stop. With the
engine still running, and not pausing for a second, Michelle began frenching Trent wildly
as her hot pussy continued to ride his huge, hard cock, pumping harder and faster.
"Ooohhhhh God. Ooohhhhh God! Ooohhhhh God!" Trent repeated faster and faster,
louder and louder. "Oh Michelle, youre incredible, youre amazing," he cried. "Would
you like to come?" she asked him. "Oh shit yeah, I really need to," he cried.
Michelle started riding Trents cock harder and faster, like a piston. Trent felt his balls
tighten and his lust boiling over. Michelle leaned to Trents ear and said softly, "I want
you to come inside me like you never came before." That pushed Trent over the edge
and he felt his orgasm come over him like a giant wave of pleasure. As he began to shoot
inside her, Michelle came too, and she threw her head back and let out a long, lust-filled
"Meeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwww." And she stabbed all ten of her
inch-long pointed fingernails into Trents forehead and sliced them down his face and
throat. Trent screamed a horrible scream that pierced the night air, and he threw open
the car door and stumbled out. As he did, he felt Michelles ten sharp-pointed toenails
slash his asscheeks. Trent tripped and rolled onto his back. He was unable to see due to
the blood flowing into his eyes from the deep wounds caused by Michelles horribly
sharp fingernails, but he could feel her kneeling over him. "What are you? Who are
you? Why did you do this to me?" Trent sobbed. "So many questions," Michelle said,
"Youre such a nosy guy." Bending closer to him, she slipped her pinkie into Trents
nose. "You know what happens to nosy guys, dont you? They lose their noses."
Michelle said. And then she slashed her razor-sharp fingernail out through the side of his
nose. "Chinatown," she laughed, "Thats from Chinatown. God, I just love movies."
Michelle got back into Trents Mercedes and adjusted the seat. "Nice car," she hollered
out the window as she drove off. She could hear Trents screams growing softer in the
distance.
-
Sex, Lies and Awesome Nails 1-6
Sex, Lies and Awesome Nails - Part 1
Chelsea Larson was eighteen and just starting her freshman year in college. About 56"
and very attractive, with long straight brown hair, and large hazel eyes, she had a
perfectly-sculpted nose, full lips, and the high cheekbones of a model. With her long,
toned legs, perfect, tight ass and perky, luscious breasts, she aroused men wherever she
went. Her most striking feature though, was her exquisite fingernails, which were all
about an inch long, and always perfectly-shaped, clean, and white as fresh snow. They
were Chelseas passion and her obsession.
Chelsea had arrived on a Friday, the first day the dorm opened, so that she would be sure
of claiming the lower bunk in her dorm room, as well as the area underneath it, and as
much storage space in the small room as possible, because she had a very extensive
wardrobe and an immense collection of shoes. Her first day was spent unpacking, which
was a slow process for her because she was obsessively fearful of breaking any of her ten
perfect, inch-long natural fingernails. So she only ventured out of her room to use the
bathroom or to go for a snack.
This was a top academic college, not a party school, and really hot-looking girls were in
the minority. Just as Chelsea had anticipated. And, in a co-ed dorm with alternating
floors for women and men, it didnt take long for word of Chelseas hotness to spread
among the male residents, who unashamedly prowled the hall outside her room like stray
dogs attracted by the scent of a bitch in heat. But Chelsea had no interest in boys who
pursued her. She had to be the pursuer, the predator. For her, sexual pleasure derived
inexorably from seduction, and the more resistance someone tried to put up, the more
sexual gratification she got when they ultimately surrendered to her. Chelsea was a born
seductress, and even at the tender age of eighteen she had an uncanny instinct for making
herself hopelessly irresistible to anyone she chose, using her erotic long fingernails as her
prime weapons of mass seduction.
Around ten o-clock that night, Chelsea, clad only in a long t-shirt and flipflops, brushed
by the pack of panting hounds outside her door. The boys watched her lithe body ripple
with catlike fluidity as she walked slowly down the hall to the stairwell door. On the
next floor down, the boys floor, Chelsea strolled languidly down the hall, observing the
reactions of the college boys to the sight of her. Some of them stared at her long, toned
legs, and she could feel their stares caress her perfect ass as she walked past them.
Others gazed at her luscious breasts, tantalizing under her thin t-shirt, and the twin peaks
formed by her large, erect nipples. A few nerdy-looking geeks gasped and quickly
scattered into their rooms like field mice scurrying from a cat. Chelsea could almost
sense the penises all around her rising to her presence. Finally she spied a tall, good-
looking shirtless guy with a muscular, hairy chest, who saw her but turned his head shyly.
"Hi, Im Chelsea," she said sweetly. "Um…Im Kyle," he said, reaching to open his
door. "Hi, Kyle," she said, and as he opened the door she breezed past him into his room
and did a pirouette, looking at the posters and pendants on the walls, and continued,
"Wow, youve got a single! Your room looks awesome!" "Uh…thanks," he said, as
Chelsea bounced onto his bed, kicking off her flipflops and lying on her side.
"Look…ah…," Kyle began, reaching for a silver frame on his desk, with a picture of an
innocent-looking blue-eyed girl with long blonde hair. Chelsea combed her fingers
through her long, silky dark-brown hair and gazed at Kyle with her smoldering hazel
eyes. "I kind of have a girlfriend," he said. "Shes cute…" Chelsea said, "…whats your
kind-of-girlfriends name?" Kyle stammered, "Wait, no, shes not my kind-of
girlfriend…I didnt mean to say it like that..." Chelsea giggled. He reached for a shirt
that was over the back of his desk chair, but Chelsea slid off the bed and held his wrist
with one hand. "Dont," she said softly, grasping his wrist, and running her other fingers
through the thick hair on his chest. Kyle took hold of her wrist and gently pulled her
hand away from him. Thats when he noticed Chelseas very long fingernails. He
glanced from them to her eyes, with a look of slight alarm. "Do you like my nails?" she
asked softly, tracing her other nails up along his arm, and on to his muscular chest, where
she scratched him gently. She heard him inhale sharply as the tips of her nails scraped
across his nipple. Kyle grasped that hand too, now he was holding both her wrists.
"Please, stop," he said softly. Chelsea leaned into him and rested her face against his
collarbone and whispered, "Your kind-of-girlfriend doesnt have long fingernails like
mine, does she." "No, but thats beside….Y-you h-have to g-g-go," he cried. "Ok,
Kyle," Chelsea said, "Im sorry. Can we just be friends?" "Well….I guess…sure," he
said, releasing her hands from his grip. "Hug?" she said sweetly. "Sure," he sighed, and
she slipped her arms around his back. He felt her warm bare foot on his leg, along with
the sensation of her toenails scraping him gently, and he started to pant. He felt her thigh
rub his dick, which they both realized was rock hard, and she scratched her long
fingernails lightly across his shoulders. "Kiss?" she said sweetly, and as he turned
toward her with a look of mixed incredulousness and helplessness on his face, she wet
her lips and gave him a long, deep, honey-sweet kiss that made his knees buckle. They
fell onto the bed, still locked in a frenzied, passionate kiss, Chelseas long fingernails
stroking his back and shoulders with increasing pressure. Her oversized t-shirt flew off
of her in a quick, fluid movement, and Kyles eyes bulged as he took in the sight of
Chelseas flawless body. She pulled his jeans down and held his throbbing shaft between
her palms. Kyle shook with lust as she curled her fingers and gently scraped his dick
with the tips of her inch-long fingernails. He watched her long thumbnails rise above his
cock head as she gently rubbed the underside of his dick with her soft thumbs, then curve
them and lightly scrape her thumbnails across his peehole. Kyle took Chelseas face and
guided her mouth toward his dick. "O-ok…," he panted breathlessly, "You c-can give
me a blowjob, but we c-cant fuck, ok? I love my girlfriend…" Chelsea smiled sweetly
and then she extended her tongue and licked his cock head all around. "Ok," she said
softly, smiling, and she leaned forward splaying her hands over his chest and scratching
with her long fingernails. Then she smothered him with another dizzying kiss and
impailed her hot, wet pussy on his rock-hard dick. Kyle gasped into her kiss as he felt
her pussy tighten around his dick and begin working him. It was like an electric shock as
her lips and teeth sucked his neck, and each forceful rake of her long nails against his
back and sides sent waves of ecstasy coursing throughout his body. Chelsea threw back
her head and she screamed with pleasure as her orgasm hit. Kyle gasped, "P-please…I
havent…I still need to cum!" Chelsea looked at him perplexed. Wild-eyed, she bit her
lower lip and her nostrils flared, and she began riding Kyle even harder. Chelsea
climaxed again. And again and again, each successive orgasm coming more rapidly and
stronger than the preceeding. She leaned down and sucked Kyles ear into her mouth and
whispered, "Cum any time you want." And she rolled on her back, pulling him on top of
her, sinking her long nails into his ass while he pounded her like a jackhammer for
several seconds and then grunted loud and collapsed beside her heaving for breath. "My
girlfriend…cums….once….and then she…pushes me off her," Kyle gasped breathlessly,
"Youre…youre…" "Awesome?" Chelsea finished his sentence. "Totally," Kyle
sighed. Suddenly he clasped his hands to his face and said, "Shit. What am I going to do
now? What am I going to do about my girlfriend?" "Nothing," Chelsea whispered,
stroking his face with her long nails, "You love her. Me and you are just friends,
remember?" Helplessly confused, Kyle watched as Chelsea slipped her long t-shirt over
her head and stepped into her flipflops. "Y-you m-mean this is like just a one-time
thing?" he cried. "It depends," Chelsea said, smiling. "On what?" he asked urgently.
"On me," she said over her shoulder as she left Kyles room.
It was nearly midnight and Chelsea strolled down the hall on the boys floor toward the
stairwell. She stopped at the stairway door and glanced a couple doors further down and
saw a lanky young man with a bushy mop of light-brown hair tenderly kissing a small
dark-haired girl, who then walked to the stairwell and smiled at Chelsea and thanked her
for holding the door open. Chelsea stepped onto the landing, but then she bit her lip and
turned around and walked back and knocked on the door where shed seen the two
kissing. "Hi, Im Chelsea," she said sweetly, smiling seductively at the young man and
lightly grazing his arm with her inch-long fingernails as she brushed past him into his
dorm room. "I-Im B-Bill," he said nervously. And so went Chelseas first night at
college.
The next morning, Saturday, around eleven, Chelsea was awakened by a key rattling in
the door, and the sound of boxes being slid across the tile floor. "Oh…hey…Im really
sorry I woke you!" said a chirpy little voice. Chelsea yawned and moaned, "Uhhh…what
time is it?" "Its almost noon!" the girl squeaked cheerfully. "Shit," Chelsea muttered,
pulling the covers over her face and going back to sleep. "Um…excuse me….excuse
me….," the girl said, gently shaking Chelseas shoulder. "Huh? What?" Chelsea
mumbled. "Its three-thirty," the girl said, "And I, um, kinda need to ask you
something." "What?" Chelsea yawned, rubbing her eyes with her knuckles. "Well, first
of all, Im Mary Bishop, Im your roommate," she said. "Chelsea Larson," Chelsea said,
holding out her hand. "Pleased to….whoa!" her new roommate said, "Those are some
majorly long fingernails! They look real!" "They are real," Chelsea said, coming alive at
hearing her favorite subject, and admiring her ten perfect, one-inch nails, "Do you like
them? I love them! Ive had them as long as I can remember, and Im like, totally
obsessed with them!" She finally took a look at her new roommate, a small, pixie-ish girl
with startlingly blue eyes and collar-length blonde hair. There was something vaguely
familiar about her face but Chelsea couldnt place it.
"I kinda dont have any place for my stuff," Mary Bishop said, "Your stuff seems to be in
my closet and drawers." "Oh, sorry…there wasnt any room left in mine," Chelsea said
blandly, taking a file from her makeup case and gently shaping her long fingernails.
"Um…?" Mary Bishop said, "So…could you please put it with your stuff so I can…"
"You have really pretty eyes," Chelsea said, "And a cute little body. I bet youre a great
fuck." The other girl stood there dumbfounded, a little nonplussed and more than a little
apprehensive. There was something very intimidating about Chelsea even at the young
age of eighteen. "Uhh…look, I…um…dont want to like, hurt your feelings
but…um…Im….ah….straight," her roommate said hesitantly. Chelsea laughed out
loud, "So am I." The little blonde swallowed hard and laughed sheepishly, "Sorry, I
misunderstood. I thought you were…" "Hitting on you?" Chelsea laughed. "It was
stupid of me," Mary said, "Maybe its that I havent seen my boyfriend in a couple
weeks." That was when Chelsea realized why her new roommate looked familiar. She
was the girl in Kyles picture, except her hair was shorter now. "Well, look, Im going to
buy textbooks with my boyfriend before the bookstore closes, then well prolly go back
to his room and…you know. So youll have plenty of time to clear out my closet and
drawers. I prolly wont be back till tomorrow morning." "See you soon, blue-eyes,"
Chelsea said, blowing her a kiss, and she giggled. Mary giggled. "You too, Catwoman,"
she said, touching Chelseas long, talon-like fingernails with her own boy-short-nailed
hands.
Around ten-thirty, Chelsea was getting a head-start on some reading assignments when
the door opened and slammed shut and she heard Mary scream, "Bastard! Goddamn,
fucking, cheating bastard!" "What happened?" Chelsea asked in a concerned voice. "He
cheated on me!" Mary sobbed, "The first night at school! Goddamn motherfucking
bastard couldnt even wait a day for me!" "How do you know he cheated on you? Did
he tell you?" Chelsea asked. "N-n-no," Mary wept, "The asshole let me make out with
him, and then give him a blowjob…when he took his shirt off I saw them." "Them?"
Chelsea said. "Marks…long red marks all over his body," Mary cried, "From some
bitchs fing…" She stopped dead in mid-sentence, her eyes filled with hatred. "Oh. My.
God." Chelsea screamed, "Oh. My. God. You mean…Kyle is…youre Kyles…."
Chelsea buried her face in her hands and started to cry, "He told me he had a girlfriend
back home but that it was over. Mary, please, you have to believe me I didnt know he
was cheating. I was just horny as hell and he was there…and he let me," and she looked
up at Mary with a look of utter innocence and contrition. Before Mary could say
anything, Chelsea screamed, "Motherfucking dick-head bastard!" He used both of us! I
feel so cheap and filthy! Oh, God, Mary please forgive me! Please dont hate me!" Mary
cried, "No..no…its not you…I dont hate you! You didnt know! It was all him…the
asshole!" "Thank you," Chelsea said meekly, opening her arms, and Mary threw her
arms around Chelsea and the two of them hugged for a long time.
Finally Chelsea grabbed a box of Kleenex and they blew their noses. Then Chelsea said,
"Hey, Ive got a bottle of tequila, a salt shaker…and a bowl of limes in the fridge. Lets
get ripped." Marys bright blue eyes shone past the red from crying, and a little smile
crept over her sweet face. "Lets do it," she said. Mary kicked off her shoes and
wriggled out of her tight jeans. Sitting barefoot indian-style on the floor, the two girls
started doing tequila shots, all the time decrying and cursing the male species. It didnt
take long before Mary was quite drunk, while Chelsea, who outweighed her and had
eaten a full dinner an hour earlier, was just mellow. "God is it me or is it, like, really hot
in here?" Mary said, slurring her words a little. "Youre wearing a sweatshirt!" Chelsea
said, laughing. "Oh yeah!" Mary laughed loudly, and she took it off. Sitting in just her
bra and panties, Mary turned to Chelsea and said, "Hey no fair! You gotta take something
off too." Chelsea smiled and took off her oversized t-shirt, leaving her completely nude.
Mary blushed, and giggled uncontrollably, "I can see your boobs." "So? Let me see
yours," Chelsea said, giggling too. "No," Mary said shyly. "Oh, come on, just a peek,"
Chelsea whispered. Mary rolled her eyes and started trying to take her bra off but was
having trouble making her fingers do what she wanted them to. "Here," Chelsea said,
undoing Marys bra. "Ouch!" Mary cried, "Your nails are really sharp!" Chelsea smiled,
as she peeled Marys bra off. "Your boobs are huge!" Chelsea gushed. Mary sighed, "I
need something to hold them up all the time or else I get a backache." Chelsea giggled,
sliding herself behind Mary and slipping her arms under Marys and cupping her large
breasts, "Like this?" Mary whined a little and tried to gently pry Chelseas hands from
her breasts but Chelsea was fondling her nipples ever-so-lightly, and Mary was very
drunk so despite herself she was becoming turned-on. Mary squirmed a little and
Chelsea wrapped her long legs around Mary as well, with her bare feet resting on Marys
thighs. She curled her toes and gently scraped Marys baby-soft thighs with her toenails,
which were a bit long, and painted bright red. Chelsea slipped her big toe under the
waistband of Marys panties. "No fair," Chelsea whispered softly, "Im naked and youre
not." A very drunk Mary unfolded her legs while Chelsea worked Marys panties off
with her toes. Then Chelsea gently scraped Marys cheek with her nails, guiding Marys
head back, and Chelsea wet her lips and sealed them over Marys open mouth, probing
her tongue deep inside, meanwhile increasing her fondling of Marys large nipples. "Oh
my God, are we gonna have sex?" Mary cried drunkenly, starting to squirm. "Huh? No!
Of course not!" Chelsea laughed, and Mary sighed with relief. Chelsea put one foot
between Marys parted legs and, leaning both of them back against the bed, began
fondling Marys labia with her toes. Mary inhaled in a loud gasp and grabbed Chelseas
foot, but Mary was too drunk and Chelseas legs were toned and strong, and Chelsea
easily continued, driving Mary to a crashing orgasm.
For a moment, Chelsea thought Mary had passed out drunk, because she slumped against
her, motionless. Then she remembered that Kyle had told her Mary used to have only
one orgasm and then push him away…evidently, even if he hadnt cum himself. Chelsea
put her hand between Marys legs and started gently fingering her. "N-no…please…no
more," Mary cried weakly. "Ok," Chelsea said, and softly caressed Marys face with her
long fingernails and gave her another deep, sweet, intoxicating kiss. And she slid her
middle finger deep into Marys hot, wet pussy. Mary let out a little scream and tried to
grab Chelseas hand but Chelsea put her other arm around Mary under her arms, so she
couldnt reach. "Stooooopppp," Mary whined softly, but Chelsea ignored her and began
gently rolling Marys little bud between her thumbnail and pointer-finger nail. Quickly
Marys gasps mounted and became little shrill squeals, and in a few moments Mary
screamed and shook with her second orgasm. "Oh my God," she wept softly, "Ive never
had a second one before. I didnt know I could." Mary, who was very drunk, turned to
Chelsea, "Can I do you?" "Id love it," Chelsea said sweetly, "But, only if you want to."
Mary worked Chelsea for several minutes, but although Chelsea was dripping wet and
moaning loud, she hadnt climaxed, and finally Chelsea tenderly took Marys fingers
away and got herself off. Mary lowered her head sadly and said, "Im sorry!" "Its ok,"
Chelsea told her, "You were great. You just need to grow nails." Mary looked at her
boyish fingers. "Will you? Please? For me?" Chelsea whispered, kissing Mary tenderly.
"Ok," Mary said, gazing longingly into Chelseas warm, hazel eyes. Then Mary passed
out.
The next morning, Sunday, Mary opened her eyes slowly, and it took several seconds for
them to focus. She looked up and saw the underside of the top bunk. Then she felt
something warm across her chest, and she felt under the covers. There was an arm
draped over her boobs, and she realized she was naked. For a second she told herself it
mustve all been a weird dream, that she was in bed with Kyle, who hadnt cheated on
her, they hadnt broken up…and she hadnt had lesbian sex with her new roommate.
Then Mary closed her eyes and gently felt the hand attached to the arm across her body.
Slowly she traced down the fingers, and her heart pounded and sank when her fingertips
glided out onto Chelseas inch-long nails. "You were too heavy for me to lift onto the
top bunk," Chelsea whispered into Marys ear, "I couldnt just leave you there on the
floor." Mary sat up suddenly, but her head started to pound and she lay back down
quickly. "Tequila hangovers are the worst," Chelsea giggled softly, stroking Marys leg
with her foot and toenails. Mary tried to push Chelsea away, but the slightest movement
made her head throb with horrible pain. "Shhhh," Chelsea whispered, "I know, like, the
awesomest cure for a hangover." And she disappeared under the covers and Mary felt
Chelseas thumbnails pressing into her inner thighs, spreading her legs apart, and then
Chelseas lips, tongue and teeth treated her clit to the most incredible sensations she had
ever felt. Chelsea stroked her long fingernails across Marys boobs, stopping to fondle
her huge, erect nipples, and in a few moments Marys little body convulsed and shook in
rhythm to her moans and screams. When her orgasm subsided, Mary started to weep
silently. Chelsea kissed her hand tenderly and caressed her fingertips, "I so cant wait for
your nails to get really long. Itll be awesome!" "Whats happened to me?" Mary
sobbed, "My whole life turned inside-out in one day! I dont know who I am anymore!"
"Its going to be ok," Chelsea said softly, stroking Marys blonde hair and kissing her
forehead and rocking Mary in her arms, "Im here. Everythings going to be wonderful.
I promise. Trust me, ok?" Mary sighed and buried her face in Chelseas breasts, and she
said very quietly, "Ok."
Chelsea put her bathrobe on and stepped into a pair of beach sandals and picked up her
bag with shower gel, shampoo, conditioner, a large sponge, and a bathtowel, and she
turned toward the door. Chelsea walked down the hall to the bathroom and after
relieving herself, she went into the shower area. There were several girls there, those
who didnt have on robes were wrapped in towels. Chelsea hung her robe on a hook and
there were muffled gasps from the other girls in reaction to Chelseas unabashed nudity,
and her incredibly perfect body. In a graceful ballet-like move, she stretched her arms
over her head and arched backward, raised one leg almost straight up, then swiveled
around on one hip and slowly caressed her other leg from ankle to thigh with her long
nails. "Hi, Im Chelsea," she said with a sweet smile, cupping her perfect breasts with
her long-nailed fingers, searching their faces for even the subtlest hint of sexual interest,
and she was relieved to see none. Chelsea felt no attraction to lesbians. With women as
with men, Chelsea thrived on the challenge of seducing the unwilling. College was going
to be awesome, she decided, as she worked up a luxuriously thick, scented lather on her
lovely body and took a long, steamy-hot shower. When she got back to the room, Mary
was preparing to go take her shower. "Aww," Chelsea said, "If Id known, I wouldve
waited for you in the shower. Oh well, next time." Mary looked at her with
astonishment and horror. "Oh…ok," Chelsea said, lowering her eyes, "I get it. Dont
worry, itll be our little secret. Id never want to hurt you. And I know you wouldnt
ever hurt me…right?" Mary swallowed hard, for she clearly understood Chelseas
message, and she nodded agreement. Mary abandoned her plans for a shower, and
instead she quickly threw on some sweats and grabbed her books and left. She was very
upset and confused, and she needed to get away to breathe and think.
Chelsea spent the rest of the day reading and watching TV in the room. She ordered-in
pizza for a late dinner, as the dorm cafeteria wouldnt open for another day. There was a
knock on the door around ten oclock, and Chelsea opened it in her bathrobe. The pizza
delivery guy was husky and good looking, and she saw his pupils grow large at the sight
of her. "Um…I hate to bother you," she said apologetically, "But can you please put it
on the desk for me?" "Well…uh…Im kind of in a hur…" he started. "I just finished
doing my nails," she said, gracefully turning and posing her fingers in front of his face,
showcasing her ten perfect, glossy, natural fingernails with their inch-long white tips,
"Do you like them?" "Uhh…yeah…theyre nice," he said nervously. "I was going for
hot," Chelsea smiled. Before he knew it, the young man found himself inside her
room, setting the pizza down on her desk. Chelsea got her purse and fished out a twenty,
and as she handed it to him she let it slip from her fingers. "Oops," she said, and he
squatted down to retrieve it. As he reached for the twenty, Chelsea gently placed her bare
foot on it and said, "I just did my toes, too. Most guys think bright red polish on toes is
hot. Do you?" "Uh, yeah…listen, I really need to…" he started. Chelsea raised her toes
off the ground, and he tugged on the twenty but she still had it firmly under the ball of her
foot. "I keep my toenails kind of long," she said softly, "See?" "Yeah…theyre really
hot…look, if I dont get my other pizzas delivered on time…" he protested. "Touch
them," Chelsea said quietly. "Huh?" he said. "Touch my toes and Ill let you go," she
giggled. He looked at his watch and sighed, then he gently put his hand on her toes and
caressed them. Chelsea squatted down too, and she smiled into his eyes and said, "Thank
you." She could see that he was staring down her cleavage, and she took his hand gently
away from her foot, and with her other hand plucked the twenty from under her foot, and
she stood up. As she did, and as he began to stand, Chelsea let her robe slip silently off.
"Oops," she whispered, demurely covering her snatch with one hand, and spreading the
long-nailed fingers of her other hand over her chest, holding the twenty against her
boobs. The pizza guy blushed beet-red and very gingerly reached for the money with two
fingers, gently extracting it from Chelseas grasp. His hands were shaking as he reached
into his jeans pocket for change. "Can I help?" Chelsea said, starting to put her fingers
into his pocket, but then she stroked her nails against his palm and up the inside of his
arm. "Whats the matter? I know you want me," she said, scraping a nail over the hard
bulge in his pants. He gasped, "Look, please…I have to go! I dont want to, but I have
to." "Why? Do you have a girlfriend?" Chelsea asked hopefully. "No…I mean, not
really…but I need this job for school and I cant afford to get fired!" he cried. Chelsea
would have preferred if he was also trying to resist her in order to not cheat on someone,
but him resisting her to save his job had already gotten her pussy dripping wet. "Ok, I
understand," Chelsea said sincerely, bending down and reaching for her robe, which she
shyly clasped to the front of her naked body with one hand. "I can come back later, after
work" the young man said. "Can I have a kiss?" she asked him sweetly. He put his arms
around her shoulders, and she dropped her robe and put one arm around him, gently
scratching the back of his neck with one set of five exquisite long nails, and stroking his
face with the other, as she smothered his senses with her intoxicatingly sweet lips, and
hot, probing tongue. "N-no, p-please," he whimpered between her forceful kisses, "I get
off at midnight." "I need to get off now," Chelsea whispered, as she rolled him on to her
bed.
It was after midnight when Mary Bishop slowly and quietly inserted her key into the
lock, and just as quietly opened the door and closed it behind her, tiptoeing softly into the
room holding her shoes in one hand. "Its ok, Im awake," Chelsea said brightly, raising
her head off the pillow. "Oh…uh…I…um," Mary stammered, and then she gasped when
she realized there was someone else in bed with Chelsea. Chelsea shook him awake.
"Say hi to my roommate. This is Mary," she said to him. "Ummm….hi Mary," he
said, blushing. "This is Pizza Guy," Chelsea said, then she turned to him and giggled,
"What is your name by the way?" "Jim, Jim Rutledge," he said. "Chelsea Larson,"
Chelsea said, offering to shake his hand. Mary stood there with her mouth slightly open,
then she huffed and shook her head and looked heavenward. "Whats wrong?" Chelsea
asked ingenuously. "Nothing," Mary said quickly. "Are you hungry?" Chelsea asked,
"Theres pizza…its prolly cold though, you might want to put it in the microwave…" "I
dont want your pizza," Mary snapped. Chelsea said, with a look of hurt feelings, "I
ordered a large to be sure thered be some for you." Mary quickly lowered her eyes
ashamed, and said softly, "Im sorry. That was really nice of you. Thanks." Chelsea
held her hand out and motioned Mary over. Mary looked confused. "Get naked and
come on in!" Chelsea cried with a big smile, "Lets have a threesome! Guys are always
dreaming about that. Right, Pizza Guy….I mean, Jim?" Jim and Mary looked at each
other and blushed bright red. "Ok, how about you two do each other and Ill watch,"
Chelsea offered. Jim and Mary looked at her incredulously. "Oh, all right, Ill go down
to the lounge," Chelsea sighed, and turned to Mary, "Text me when its ok for me to
come back." Then she turned to Jim and said, "Marys my BFF, we share everything."
"Youre a total freak, you know that?" Jim said, feeling around on the floor for his
underpants, which were out of his reach, but Mary obligingly kicked them over to him.
He hastily dressed and headed for the door. "Well its your loss," Chelsea shouted after
him, "Marys, like, totally hot and a really great fuck." The door slammed behind Jim,
and Chelsea sat up in bed. Chelsea took Marys hand and kissed her fingers and said
with compassion, "Dont worry. When your nails get really long, no guy will ever be
able to walk away from you."
Mary smiled half-heartedly, and snatched something from her drawer and scurried out the
door. She returned a few minutes later, carrying her clothes and wearing plaid flannel
pjs. Chelsea smiled, and stifled a laugh. Mary said, "Goodnight." There was no ladder,
and little Mary struggled to climb up to the top bunk. She managed to get her torso onto
her mattress, and kept trying to get one leg up on the top bunk, but she kept slipping. Her
legs were dangling over the edge, in front of Chelseas bed, and Chelsea gently grasped
Marys little feet and said softly, "You have cute little toes. I have to paint your toenails
sometime," and she started sucking them and moaning contentedly. Mary pulled her
foot out of Chelseas mouth and flailed her legs some more. "Can I help?" Chelsea said
softly. Mary grunted an embarassed ok, and she held her legs still in anticipation of
Chelsea giving her a shove up. Instead, the next thing she felt was her pj bottoms being
pulled off quickly, followed by long fingernails clutching her knees, her legs being
spread apart, and Chelseas lips, tongue and teeth working their irresistible wonders on
her little clit. After her orgasm hit, Mary was unable to maintain her hands grasp of the
sheets on her upper bunk, and she slid down, into Chelseas waiting arms. Chelsea kissed
her passionately as she unbuttoned Marys pj top, and as she slipped it off her arms,
Chelsea kissed and licked Marys soft neck, and on down to her very large breasts and
nipples. Mary felt herself sucked into Chelseas bed, defenseless and vanquished, like
prey being dragged into the lair of a powerful jungle cat. Kissing her and raking her
passionately with her incredible long fingernails, Chelsea wrapped her long, strong legs
around Marys head. She pressed her long nails into the back of Marys neck until Mary
used her lips, tongue and teeth on Chelseas large, hard clit as she had done to Marys
little bud just moments before. After Chelseas second thunderous orgasm, she reached
back and slid her fingers into Marys pussy and slowly worked her clit with her long
fingernails, expertly bringing Mary to orgasm at the same time as her own. Chelsea held
Mary close to her in the afterglow, feeling her shoulders heaving as she struggled to catch
her breath, and she stroked Marys soft, blonde hair and said cheerfully, "I know! You
can use the top bunk to store your stuff…so I can have the closets and drawers.
Awesome!"
Chelseas first class on Monday was at 11AM, which was as early as she could possibly
handle. It was in a huge auditorium with theater-style seats with little half-desktops that
folded out in front of each. She scanned the room like a hawk, searching. Her eyes came
to rest on a good-looking dark-haired guy sitting next to a girl, and they were holding
hands. Quickly she made her way to where they were sitting, glad that there was still an
empty seat next to the guy. Chelsea sat down, and the girl leaned forward and looked at
her. She smiled at the girl. "Hi, Im Chelsea," she said sweetly. "Hi Chelsea, Im
Diane," the girl replied, "And this is my boyfriend Tom." "Hi Tom," Chelsea said. The
lecture began and they started taking notes on their laptops. Chelsea had to type with the
tips of her nails, and they clattered on the keyboard. "Wow, your nails are totally long!"
Diane whispered, leaning in front of her boyfriend and flashing her own hands with
maybe an eighth of an inch of nails except on her pinkies, which were about a quarter
inch, "Ive been trying to grow mine coz my boyfriend here thinks theyre hot, but one
always breaks and then I have to cut them all and start over. Whats your secret?" "I
dunno," Chelsea whispered, "Mine are just naturally strong I guess. But Im also like
obsessively careful with them. Why not get fakes or acrylics?" Diane shrugged, "Ask
Tom. Fake nails arent hot, he says." They went back to paying attention to the lecture,
but Chelsea could hear Tom breathing hard, obviously aroused by all the nail talk.
Chelsea typed something on her laptop and gently nudged Toms foot with hers. He
turned his head and she slightly turned her laptop so he could see, but she knew the
screen would just look dark to Diane if she happened to look over. Tom read r my nailz
hot? cough once 4 yes. Tom looked away, but Chelsea scraped her nails on the cover of
her laptop and heard him start to breathe harder, then he coughed slightly. She typed
some more and nudged his foot again. m i hot? Tom coughed again. "Are you catching
cold?" Diane whispered, putting her hand against Toms forehead to check if he had a
fever. "Im fine," he whispered. "I dunno, you feel a little hot to me," Diane whispered.
Chelsea discreetly put her fingers under Toms short shirtsleeve and gently began
scratching his shoulder very lightly with her long nails, listening to his breathing grow
ragged. Tom cast her a quick but terrified look of pleading, to which she replied with an
equally quick but merciless smirk, and she resumed scratching him, gently, but faster and
faster as she felt his breathing quicken and his body tremble. "Are you sure youre
feeling ok, Tom?" Diane whispered. Tom just nodded very fast, but he was unable to
speak. Chelsea continued gently scratching his shoulder, changing speed and position
every so often so it wouldnt become routine, occasionally streaking her nails down his
upper arm, and over his bicep. She nudged his foot, and he read on her laptop r u hard?
Tom made sure Diane wasnt looking, and he reached for Chelseas hand. She dug her
nails into his arm slightly, and then harder as he tried to pull her hand off him. She
leaned over and licked the back of his hand, and nibbled his fingers, and Tom inhaled
sharply. He glanced quickly over at Diane, who was preoccupied looking at a diagram
the professor was drawing on the overhead monitor, then he looked quickly back at
Chelsea, his eyes wide with fear and frustration. He leaned toward her to whisper a plea
for her to stop, but when he came near her ear, she turned quickly toward him and
grasped his lip gently in her teeth and stared deep into his eyes, continuing to scratch his
shoulder under his shirtsleeve. After a moment she released him from her teeth, giving
his lips a feather-soft kiss and a brush of her hot, wet tongue. Chelsea glanced under
Toms lap desk and saw the huge tent in his pants, and smiled knowingly at him. Just
then the class ended, and Diane turned and looked in their direction. "That was a really
interesting class," she said, "Dont you guys think?" Chelsea smiled and nodded. Diane
stood up and said to Tom, "Are you coming?" Chelsea whispered in his ear, "Maybe
next time you will," and she scraped her long nails across the back of his hand as she
stood up. "Lets sit together the rest of the semsester, ok?" Chelsea said to Diane with a
sweet smile. "Cool!" Diane answered, "We should get togther to study, too." "Thatd be
awesome!" Chelsea said, winking discreetly at Tom.
Her next class was a small one, where everyone sat around a large, rectangular table, with
the professor at the head. Immediately, Chelsea spotted a very good-looking guy sitting
at the edge of the the table lengthwise away from the professor, and she took the seat to
his left. "Hi, Im Chelsea," she said, smiling sweetly, and offering her hand. "Im
Bobby," he said, also smiling. A homely girl with thick glasses and frizzy hair was
sitting next to the good-looking guy, just around the corner of the table. Seething with
envy that Chelsea had attracted the best-looking guy in the room with no effort
whatsoever, she remarked with a cynical chuckle, "How can you do stuff with those
nails?" Chelsea noticed that the girls nails were about 1/4-inch, but not shaped, as if she
probably cut them only occasionally, or left them to break. "Youd be surprised what
stuff I can do with them," Chelsea answered in a syrupy-sweet voice, mostly to Bobby,
scratching her inch-long fingernails quietly on the formica tabletop. She slung her purse
over the back of her chair, and noticed with a quick glance down that Bobby was wearing
light tan khakis, and Birkenstocks with no socks. To her, most guys had really ugly feet,
but she found Bobbys very sexy, with nicely-shaped toes and short, healthy well-kept
toenails. And she could see by his ankles that he had hairy legs, which was a huge turn-
on for her. As class started, Chelsea slipped her foot out of her sandal and gently brushed
it against the side of Bobbys ankle, then rested it on top of his foot. Bobby looked at
her, and she turned to him and smiled, and he smiled back. The homely girl saw them
making eyes at each other, and she huffed and sat back in her chair with her arms folded.
Chelsea pressed the tip of her big toe forward against the strap of his Birkenstock, and
pushed it off his foot. Then she rested her left foot on top of his left, and started rubbing
her big toe between his big toe and second toe in a fuck-like rhythm, and scratching the
tops of his other toes with her toenails. Soon she brought her right foot into play,
caressing up and down inside his ankle, grasping at his leg hair with her toes, and rubbing
it with her sole. Bobby seemed to be taking it in stride and enjoying it, which was not the
reaction that Chelsea was going for. She was perturbed that he didnt appear to be
anxious or fearful of embarassment. In fact, he slipped his right foot out of his
Birkenstock and started caressing Chelseas ankle, and it was turning her on. That took
Chelsea quite by surprise, the fact that hed turned the tables on her, but she remembered
how sexy she thought his feet were, so it was a very pleasant sensation, and she let him
keep doing it. In fact, she let him see her lick her lips and half-close her eyes, so that he
would know she liked it, and so that he wouldnt stop. In a few moments she climaxed.
Chelsea wasnt used to disguising her orgasm, she was used to letting herself go
completely, but this time, needing to supress her reaction detracted from the pleasure.
When she recovered, she glanced at Bobby. He was smiling, but it was a look of smug
satisfaction, and he leaned to her and whispered, "Youre welcome." That enraged
Chelsea, and the smile she returned him was one of pure evil. What hed done to her had
made Chelsea suddenly realize that there was one thing even more mischievous than
simply driving a guy wild with lust in public and then leaving him unsatisfied. She
stroked one long fingernail gently up his arm and heard him sigh. Then she stroked two
nails, a little harder, and his breathing rate increased. Then she scratched all five nails
along his arm, and he stifled a gasp. The homely girl looked at them with bugeyes, and
Chelsea pursed her lips in a little, taunting air-kiss aimed at her, seeing the girls jaw drop
as she watched Chelseas hand slip below the table into Bobbys lap, and Bobbys eyes
bulge and his posture stiffen. The homely girl stared in incredulous, perverse fascination
at Bobbys pained, strained expression, and the twinkling in Chelseas beautiful hazel
eyes, as Chelsea stroked his rock-hard dick through his khakis with her inch-long natural
fingernails, expertly and relentlessly, until Bobby bit his lip hard and his eyes rolled back.
Chelsea brought her hand back up on the table and admired her long nails, making sure
the homely girl was still watching. Chelsea turned to Bobby, who was still breathing
hard, and whispered, "Youre welcome." The hour was soon up, and everyone stood to
leave. "Do you, like, want to go out sometime?" Bobby asked Chelsea eagerly. "Oh…I
dont know…Ill think about it," she said, watching Bobbys confidence deflate, "But
anyway, youll see me in class." "Oh…well, ok," he said, dejected. "You might want to
wear dark pants from now on though," Chelsea whispered into his ear, giving it a quick
probe with the tip of her tongue, and motioning downward with her long pointer-finger
nail. Bobby looked down and saw a huge wet spot in the crotch of his light tan khakis,
and he turned bright, beet red.
Chelsea grabbed a yogurt shake for lunch, and then went to her afternoon class, the last
for the day, Philosophy 101. There happened to be only two boys in the class of fifty,
and much to Chelseas dismay, one was a scrawny, pimple-faced kid, who turned her off
even from across the room. She sat down front next to the other boy, who was not bad
looking, although not quite as muscular as Chelsea preferred. "Hi, Im Chelsea!" she
said, extending her hand. "My name is Vincent," the boy said, taking her hand gently,
and she watched him stare wide-eyed at her very long nails. "Do you like them?" she
asked softly, allowing her hand to linger in his. "Oh, my yes," he said, "Theyre very
elegant." "Uh…thanks," she said, unsure exactly why she felt creeped-out by his
compliment. The professor strolled in and took his place at the lectern. He was a
youngish man, perhaps thirty-five, strapping build, with a thick shock of dark hair, a
square jaw, and clear blue eyes. "Im professor Steven Lang," he said, flashing a brilliant
smile. Chelsea wanted to fly at him and rip his shirt off and claw her nails into him and
impale herself on his cock and fuck him like mad. So did practically every other girl in
the class, she imagined. But for Chelsea, it would not suffice for fucking him to remain
just a fantasy. Meantime, she figured shed have some fun teasing Vincent. She turned
to him and smiled her sexiest smile. "Get a load of Professor Yummy," Vincent
whispered. Chelsea said a silent shit, realizing now why it had stuck a strange chord
when he called her nails elegant. She enjoyed seducing the unwilling, but the idea of
trying to convert gay guys, or seducing lesbian women to cheat on their partners, just
didnt turn her on.
All through the class, Chelsea stared at professor Lang with her most lustful, seductive
look, sending him telepathic messages like Look at me…Look at me….Look at me and
Watch my nails….Watch my nails and whenever his gaze came her way she posed her
nails for him. Gradually she could see that his gaze returned to her with increasing
frequency, until by the end of class he couldnt seem to take his eyes off her. As the
students shuffled out, a few of them went up to the lectern to speak with their professor,
but Chelsea remained in her seat until they had all left, and professor Lang packed up his
laptop. As he turned to leave, he looked at her quickly, then started to walk very slowly
up the aisle. Chelsea stood and walked toward the aisle, where they met at the same
moment. She noticed a gold wedding band on his left hand and she felt herself getting
wet. "Hi, Im Chelsea," she said sweetly. "Hello Chelsea," he said cordially, extending
his hand to her. Chelsea smiled and took it gently, wrapping her delicate fingers around
his strong hand, and lightly pressing the tips of her inch-long nails into his skin. "Thanks
for taking my class," he said modestly. "Youre welcome," she said softly. "Uh…may I
have my hand back?" he said with a little laugh. "In a moment," Chelsea said with a
sultry gaze. Professor Lang blushed, and looked nervously at his watch. Chelsea
gradually withdrew her hand, scraping the back of his hand with her nails as she did. He
let out a little gasp. Chelsea made a sad face, "Did I accidentally scratch you with my
long fingernails?" "N-no, its..I mean, you didnt…" he stammered. "Oh, good, Im
glad" Chelsea said with relief, then she rotated her hand gracefully before his eyes and
said in a half-whisper, "Theyre soooooo long and very, verrrry sharp." She could see
perspiration forming on his brow, and he loosened his shirt collar with one finger. He
was breathing hard, and his pupils were dilated. And she walked away, allowing him a
long, slow look at her long sexy legs and tight ass.
Chelsea got back to her dorm and her feet hurt from walking. She decided to take the
elevator, and as she was getting on, Kyle got on too. "Hi!" she said cheerfully. He
looked at her contemptuously. "What?" she said, "You arent mad at me because Mary
broke up with you?" "How did you know we broke up?" he cried, "And how do you
know her name?" Chelsea told him they were roommates. "Oh my God," he cried,
"Does she know it was you? Mary has a horrible temper." Chelsea laughed and told him
Mary knew, but that they had become BFFs. "I still love her," Kyle said, his eyes
starting to tear-up, "Id give anything to get her back. If youre her friend, and my
friend…" "You want me to talk her into getting back with you?" Chelsea asked. "Could
you?" he cried. "Of course I could," she laughed. "Ok, I mean, would you," Kyle said.
"Maybe," Chelsea smiled, "What do I get in return?" "My undying friendship and
eternal gratitude?" Kyle said. Chelsea laughed. "I was thinking something a little
more…practical," she said, raking her nails on his crotch. "Youre fucking
unbelievable!" he cried, looking at her in shock. Chelsea saw his jeans were bulging and
she laughed. "Dont you mean Im fucking incredible?" she said, streaking her long nails
down his bare arms and rubbing his bulge with her bare thigh. Kyle gasped hard and
Chelsea scratched her nails across the back of his neck. Chelsea had lost interest in Kyle
the moment Mary told her theyd broken up, but now that he confessed he wanted Mary
back and was trying desperately to spurn Chelseas advances, she was horny for him
again. "Convince me to talk Mary into taking you back," she panted, leaping up and
wrapping her legs around him. He heard her sandals smack to the elevator floor as she
hit the stop button on the elevator and devoured his mouth with her honey-sweet lips
and hot, probing tongue. Chelsea hooked her toes into the waist of his jeans, and with her
strong legs she forced them down past his hips, and then she did the same to his briefs.
Kyle put his hands under her skirt and felt for her panties, but she wasnt wearing any. "I
love fresh air," she giggled as she bit his ear and sucked his earlobe into her mouth, and
then she drove herself onto his hard cock and moaned loudly, biting his neck and
scratching his back with her long fingernails. They stumbled around the elevator and she
backed Kyle into the control panel, and the elevator started to move. "Shit!" he cried as
he groped for the stop button, but it was now out of his reach. The elevator stopped and
the door opened on Kyles floor, and quickly there was a crowd of rowdy guys whooping
and cheering and calling for everyone to come look.
Chelsea just kept on fucking. Moaning and raking Kyle with her nails and screaming
"Yesssss….Yesssss…..Yessssss…..Noooooooooo! Shit! No! Aaaaaggggggh!" she
suddenly climbed off Kyle, revealing his limp, flaccid dick. Knowing a crowd of his
buddies was watching them, Kyle had lost his erection. Chelsea was still very turned-on,
and needed to orgasm again. She looked out at the crowd of guys and said, "So. Who
else wants to go for an elevator ride with me?" To which there was a loud roar of "Me!"
"Me!" "Me!" and a terrific shoving match began. "You guys decide between you, ok?"
she said sweetly. Things suddenly got ugly, and a testosterone-fueled fistfight began.
Chelsea slumped to the floor of the elevator and put her fingers into her pussy and she
began to moan. The fighting and yelling quickly died down, and the entire elevator
doorway was filled with heads, watching in silent awe, with saucer-eyed fascination, as
this sublimely beautiful girl deftly stroked and fondled her large, hard clit with her inch-
long natural fingernails that glistened and dripped with her juices. Her womanly scent
filled their nostrils, and Chelseas moans crescendoed to screams of pleasure and then
gradually ebbed to a stop. "Sorry guys, I couldnt wait for you to pick somebody.
Maybe next time, ok?" she said, slowly licking her nails clean. Suddenly there was
thunderous applause and cheering and whistles. Chelsea stood up and giggled and
courtsied, and she hit the button for her floor. "Bye," she said sweetly as the elevator
doors closed in front of her.
Chelsea unlocked her room and went inside and threw her backpack on her desk chair
and kicked off her shoes. She looked over at Marys desk and the chair was missing,
then she turned to the bed and saw the chair next to it, and Mary lying on her stomach on
the top bunk, reading. "I thought we agreed youd use the top bunk for storage," Chelsea
said coldly. "Chelsea….," Mary started. Tears instantly poured down Chelseas cheeks,
and she yanked the chair away from the bed and ran out of the room, to the sound of
Mary yelling, "Hey! Come back! How am I gonna get down?" She could still hear
Mary yelling, "Chel-seeeeeeeeeea!" at the door to the stairs, and she turned around and
went back to the room. Mary was sitting with her little legs dangling over the edge of the
top bunk. "Thanks for coming back," Mary said, and, seeing Chelseas reddened eyes
were still filled with tears, she went on, "Im sorry. I really didnt mean to hurt your
feelings." There were some moments of silence, and then Mary said, "Um…Id really
like to get down from here now." Chelsea sniffled and wiped her eyes. "Ok," she said,
and she grabbed Marys legs and yanked her off the top bunk. Mary screamed, but
Chelsea caught her and in the same move fell forward onto her mattress on top of Mary,
smothering her with a head-spinning kiss. Mary whined into the kiss and pushed against
Chelsea with her hands and legs but Chelsea was much stronger than her, and Mary was
quickly overcome by Chelseas passionate kiss, and stopped resisting. "So, remember,
the top bunk is for storage," Chelsea said sweetly, in the afterglow of their lovemaking,
as she stroked Marys sweat-dampened hair.
"By the way," Chelsea said, picking up a file and touching-up her long, unpolished
fingernails, "Theres something I have to tell you, before you hear it from someone else.
Because its gonna be all over the dorm by tonight." "Huh? What?" Mary asked. "Kyle
asked me to talk you into taking him back." "Really? Oh my God!" Mary cried, but then
she looked puzzled, "But why would that be front page news?" "Wellllll….then he
kinda…um….fucked me," Chelsea said, "…in the elevator. A bunch of people saw us."
"OH. MY. GOD! You fucked my boyfriend…again!!??" Mary cried. "Hes not your
boyfriend anymore…And anyway, why would you care about a guy who cant keep his
hands off other women?" Chelsea said. "Thats not the point," Mary screamed, tears
beginning to come, "Best friends do not fuck each others boyfriends." "I offered you to
do Pizza Guy, didnt I?" Chelsea said with complete seriousness. "Oh my God, you just
dont get it, do you?" Mary said. "Nope," Chelsea answered, blowing some nail dust off
her file. "And most of all best friends dont screw each others ex-boyfriends!" Mary
added. "Why not?" Chelsea asked with complete seriousness.
"Because….because….because they just dont, thats all!" Mary cried. "Thats a shitty
reason," Chelsea said, "If you can come up with something rational, let me know.
Otherwise, you really need to chill." Mary buried her face in her hands and screamed
quietly. "I was in love with him," Mary said finally, with tears streaming down her face,
"He broke my heart. And now my so-called best friend is screwing him!" "It only
happened twice," Chelsea said, "And it prolly wont ever happen again." Mary looked at
her incredulously. "What do you mean probably wont?" she cried, "You mean theres
a chance you might?" "Well…yeah, but…its not, like, a big chance. Like, Im not
gonna go knock on his door and jump him," Chelsea said, and then she added with
cheerful reassurance, "Only maybe, like, if I just happen to run into him and I, like, just
happen to be super horny at the time." Mary just looked at Chelsea in disbelief.
Suddenly Chelsea clapped her hands together and gushed, "Im gonna give you a
pedicure!"
"Awwww, Chelsea…..I need to read for class," Mary whined, sitting up in the bed and
gathering the sheet across her chest. "No problemo!" Chelsea said cheerfully, and she
handed Mary her book, adding, "You wont even know Im down there. Youll love me
when its done." Mary sat back against the headboard with her legs in front of her, and
switched on the reading light. Chelsea sat on the bed facing her, with her legs on either
side of Mary, with Marys feet in her lap. "Ill try not to tickle you with my nails," she
said. "Thanks," Mary said, "Im not very ticklish though." "Oh wow! Im, like, totally
not ticklish at all," Chelsea said, "Were almost like sisters!" In light of their activities,
that comment struck Mary as bizarre, and she laughed. "What?" Chelsea said earnestly.
"Nothing," Mary said quickly, coming to the uneasy realization that it wasnt at all ironic
to Chelsea, and she resumed reading. Meantime, Chelsea picked up a pumice stone and
examined Marys little feet, but she put the stone back without using it. "Your feet are
amazingly soft," Chelsea said quietly. She picked up a metal tool and gently cleaned
under Marys toenails, and then used an emery board to shape them slightly. "Were
gonna let them grow, then I can shape them nicer," she said. Mary looked up from her
book and said, "Let them grow?" "Uh huh!" Chelsea smiled, "Just a little past the tip of
your toes." "But I dont want…" Mary started. "Just a little past the tip of your toes,"
Chelsea repeated slowly, with a chill in her voice, "Ok?" "Ok," Mary said very quietly.
"Awesome!" Chelsea smiled, and she raised one of Marys feet to her lips and kissed her
toes. Mary felt Chelseas breath on her toes grow hotter, and then the sensation of
wetness. She heard Chelsea go Mmmmm softly, and when Mary looked up, her toes
were completely inside Chelseas mouth. "Ewwwww! What are you doing?" Mary said.
Chelsea withdrew Marys foot from her mouth with a loud slurp and giggled,
"Moisturizing your feet. And its not ewwwww! You taste incredible. What color
would you like?" Chelsea asked, but as Mary started to answer, Chelsea continued, "Id
like to see you in hot pink." And she took a bottle of hot pink polish and, after wiping
Marys feel dry with the sheet, and putting balls of cotton between her toes, Chelsea
began painting Marys toenails. "They need to dry before I put on the top coat," Chelsea
said, "I think Ill do myself now too."
Chelsea bent one knee and removed her bright red polish, then when she was done, she
extended that leg, and started on the other foot. The smell of the acetone on Chelseas
foot near Marys hip made Mary look down from her reading, and she gasped, "Oh my
God, your toenails are reeeaaaaalllly long!" Chelsea laughed, "Its just that the pink part
is kind of back from the ends of my toes, so the white part has to be almost as long as the
pink part in order for them to be a little past my toes. See?" "Oh…I see, yeah," Mary
said. "When theyre painted, they just look awesomely sexy," Chelsea said, extending
her other foot as well, spreading and admiring her toes. She placed her soles on Marys
thighs and scraped them gently with her toenails. "Wanna take a little break?" she said
softly, with a lusty grin. "Ohhhh, Chelseeeeeaaaa, noooooo," Mary whined, feeling
Chelseas feet pushing her legs apart. Chelsea put one foot against Marys mound and
started kneading it with her toes, meantime she pushed Marys toes against her own
mound. Soon she inserted her big toe into Marys pussy, and Marys big toe into her
own, and after a few minutes of that, Chelsea gasped, "I want you so bad," and launched
herself forward on top of Mary. When the sex was over, Chelsea kissed Mary on the
forehead and sat up, picked up the bottle of top coat polish, and began applying it to
Marys toenails. "I promise I wont disturb your reading anymore," Chelsea said,
starting to reapply bright red polish to her own toenails. But Mary didnt answer, she was
fast asleep. When Chelsea finished her pedicure, she turned off the light and curled her
naked body against Marys, kissed her softly on her little neck. Mary stirred and opened
her eyes halfway. Chelsea kissed her on her lips, tenderly but long and deep, and she
whispered, "Tell me you love me." "Mmm hmmm," Mary nodded, half asleep.
"Awesome!" Chelsea sighed, smiling, as Mary turned and draped her arm across
Chelseas breasts, and fell into a deep sleep. Chelsea gently slipped out from under
Marys arm, and tucked the blanket around her little sleeping body, and quietly put on her
long t-shirt and padded silently out the door on bare feet.
Downstairs she knocked on Kyles door, and he opened it, yawning, dressed in only short
pj bottoms. A look of alarm and apprehension came over him, and he started to close the
door, but Chelsea put her hand against it. Kyle heard her long nails click against the
door, and couldnt help but look. "Chelsea, I think youd better…," he started. "Please,"
she said softly, "I have to apologize for before." "Its a little late for...," he started. "I
couldnt sleep," she said. "No, I didnt mean late as in...," he started. A door slammed
down the hall, and Chelsea said, "Can we go inside? Just for a second?" Kyle stepped
back from the door, and Chelsea came inside. "Just for a second," he admonished her.
"Ok," she said softly, standing close to him. He felt her bare feet, ice-cold from the tile
floor, rest on top of his. "I just did my pedicure. Do you like my toenails?" she asked
breathily, and she curled her toes and dug her toenails lightly into the tops of his feet.
Kyle inhaled in a loud gasp, and exhaled with a little cry. Wrapping her arms around his
back and softly stroking him with her long fingernails, she felt his cock harden and press
against her. "Oh shit. Oh God. Y-youre some kind of…of….demon!" he cried. "Im
just a girl…" she said softly, scratching over his nipples, which hardened to her touch,
"…with nails that majorly turn you on" She slipped her hands down into his pjs and
pushed them down, scraping his balls and his rock-hard dick with her inch-long
fingernails, climbing on him effortlessly, like a cat climbing a tree, her hot, wet, honey-
sweet kiss making his knees buckle, and her weight forcing them onto his bed. She
lowered her hot, slippery-wet pussy over his throbbing cock, and began riding it, slowly,
but gradually faster and faster, until Kyle exploded inside her. Chelsea rode his dick
wildly until his erection subsided, treating herself to two mindblowing orgasms in rapid
succession, and then she gently stepped off him and reached for her t-shirt. "Was that,
like, the best apology youve ever gotten or what," Chelsea giggled. Kyle grasped her
arm. "Please, dont go," he pleaded, "Stay. Sleep with me." Chelsea dropped her t-shirt
and climbed into the bed with him. He put his arm around her, and she rested her head
on his shoulder and kissed his neck. "I know this is totally crazy," he said, "But I think
Im in love with you." "Awesome!" Chelsea sighed, smiling, and lazily making circles
through his chest hair with her long nails. Kyle fell sound asleep in moments, and shortly
after that Chelsea quietly went back upstairs to her room, slid her naked body under
Marys little arm, and fell asleep.
Chelsea didnt have classes on Tuesdays during her first semester at college, but reading
over professor Langs course syllabus she discovered that he had office hours from two to
four. It was perfect for Chelsea, who thought of noon as the most appropriate time to
wake up. It gave her two hours to get ready. Although she wore almost no makeup, and
had never had a zit in her life, Chelsea had dozens of creams and oils she applied to her
skin to keep it radiant and perfect. She also brushed her long, brown hair daily, and
shampooed and conditioned it regularly. And of course, she pampered her hands and feet
with meticulous, obsessive attention and care. She was fanatic about keeping her nails
moisturized, and smooth off any tiny chips or spurs that could potentially catch on
something and cause the nail to crack. In her life she had occasionally chipped a small
piece from the tip of a nail, but had never actually cracked or broken one. She was young
and healthy and, probably oweing much to genetics, her nails were extremely
strong…rigid enough to not bend, yet just flexible enough to not be brittle.
At twelve-thirty, Chelsea walked down to the bathroom on her floor, dressed in her robe
and beach sandals, carrying her shower supplies and towel. There was no one else in the
bathroom at that hour, and after relieving herself, she brushed her teeth at the sink. She
went to the showers, and just then she heard the outer door open and close, and another
girl walked into the shower. The girl was startled to find someone else there, gave out a
little cry, blushed, and started to turn around. "Hi, Im Chelsea," Chelsea said.
"Genevieve," the other girl said very quietly. She was a tiny girl, very pretty, with huge
eyes the color of freshly-brewed coffee, and black hair piled up on top of her head with a
velvet-covered elastic band. "Genevieve," Chelsea repeated, "Wow, thats a totally
awesome name!" "Thanks. Chelseas a cool name, too," she said shyly, "Everyone
always calls me Jen or Jenny, and then people think Im Jennifer." "I promise to always
call you Genevieve," Chelsea said, stepping out of her robe and hanging it on a hook.
Genevieve gasped. "Whats the matter?" Chelsea asked. "Oh my God, your body is
incredible," she said, "Theres no way Im getting naked in front of you." Chelsea
laughed. "Im serious," Genevieve said, "The reason I take my showers at this time is
because nobodys ever here." "Do you have three boobs or something?" Chelsea asked
with a giggle. "I almost wish I did…if they were big enough," Genevieve said, "My
problem is, I have the body of a child…a boy child." "You have a little, tiny penis and
testicles?" Chelsea gasped with pretend shock. Genevieve burst into giggles, covering
her blushing face shyly with her hands. Chelseas eyes widened when she saw that
Genevieve had long fingernails, which although they were shorter than her own, were
probably half an inch, and although they were painted a medium red, she was sure they
were real. "I love your nails," Chelsea gushed, "Theyre real, arent they." Genevieve
looked at her hands and blushed. "Thanks. Mmm hmm, theyre real," she smiled,
"Theyre the only thing that makes people realize Im eighteen, not eight." Chelsea
reached to take her hand for a closer look, and Genevieve gasped and said, "Oh my God!
Now Im even embarassed to expose my hands in front of you! Your nails are…"
"Awesome?" Chelsea asked. "Totally!" Genevieve answered. "Do you touch yourself
with your nails?" Chelsea asked her. Genevieves jaw dropped. "Too personal?"
Chelsea asked, lowering her eyes. "N-no…its not that!" Genevieve cried, putting a hand
on Chelseas shoulder, "Its, like…no, I mean…God knows no guy has hit on me since
Ive been here. Its like Im invisible. And I have…um…urges…just like any woman."
"So? What do you do?" Chelsea asked. Genevieve blushed and covered her face again.
"Come on…tell me!" Chelsea pleaded, "Ill never tell anyone. Im the worlds best
secret-keeper." "Its not such a big secret really. I have a…um…," and she continued in
a whisper, "vibrator." "Cool!" Chelsea said, "Is it, like, awesome?" "Totally,"
Genevieve giggled, then she asked seriously, "You never used one? What do you use?"
"These," Chelsea said, displaying her inch-long natural nails. "Oh my God, Id be, like,
totally afraid Id scratch myself," Genevieve cried, then she asked shyly, "Is it…umm…"
"Its totally, totally awesome," Chelsea answered. "I really like you, Chelsea!"
Genevieve gushed. "Me too," Chelsea smiled, "I bet we could be, like, BFFs."
Genevieve smiled brightly and nodded. "Of course, if were gonna be BFFs…" Chelsea
began, coming close to Genevieve and gently grasping the lapels of her bathrobe,
"Youre gonna have to trust me enough to get naked in front of me." "Well, I ..."
Genevieve began, looking up into Chelseas comforting smile, as Chelsea slipped
Genevieves robe off her shoulders and down her arms. She felt Chelseas soft fingers
against her skin, and she looked into her warm hazel eyes, and Genevieve let her arms
drop to her sides as Chelsea slipped her robe off and hung it on a hook. Genevieve had
just the slightest curve to her hips, and tiny, little bumps for breasts. She lowered her
eyes and blushed. Chelsea put a finger under Genevieves chin and raised her head.
"Youre totally beautiful, from head to toe," she said, brushing Genevieves small foot
with her longish red toenails, "Dont ever let anyone make you think you arent." Tears
streamed down Genevieves cheeks, and Chelsea embraced her and held her tight.
Genevieve put her arms around Chelsea, and it took her several moments to realize they
were two women embracing each other in the nude…and what if someone happened to
walk in? She gently backed off, and her hair fell down around her body. She felt around
for her elastic band, and then she saw that Chelsea was holding it. "I so love your hair!"
Chelsea said, smiling. Genevieves black hair, with a center part, was almost down to her
knees. "Thanks," she said sweetly, "Um…can I please have my scrunchy back? If my
hair gets wet in the shower itll never dry before I have to go to class." "Ok," Chelsea
said, "In a second." And she combed her nails through Genevieves hair, down her sides
and back, gently scraping her skin underneath occasionally. Genevieve shivvered, her
arms were covered with goosebumps, and her tiny nipples grew to twice their size and
stuck out hard. "You do have boobs!" Chelsea laughed. Genevieve smiled, and then
gasped and inhaled quickly, as Chelsea fondled her nipples and scraped them gently with
her long thumbnails. Genevieve stood there frozen for several moments, watching
Chelseas long, white nails expertly caress her sensitive nipples, and she breathed hard.
Finally she cried,"What are you doing?!" and she stepped back. "Just seeing if they
would grow even bigger for me," Chelsea said quietly, "Look." Genevieve looked down,
and her nipples were enormously swollen, more than she had ever seen them. She
relaxed and giggled, "Im so gonna call you before I go on a date…if I ever get asked out,
that is." "Youve never been on a date?" Chelsea asked.
"Nope," Genevieve said, dropping her eyes. "Youre so gonna lose your virginity real
soon," Chelsea said. "Thats wishful thinking," Genevieve laughed. "No, thats a
promise," Chelsea said solemnly, "Im gonna help you out." Genevieve looked at
Chelsea with total admiration, that this beautiful person whom shed just met, was going
to fix her up, no doubt with some really hot guy. "Id be, like, so totally grateful to you,"
Genevieve cried. Then she said, "I really have to take my shower," and she stepped into
a stall and turned on the water. She gasped when Chelsea stepped in after her.
"What…uh…why are you…." Genevieve stammered, feeling trapped in the stall. "Chill
out!!" Chelsea giggled, "I have this totally awesome grapefruit-and-vitamin-E shower
gel. Youve got to try it." "Oh…ok…Im sorry I freaked," Genevieve said, "Its just
that…well, what if someone came in and saw us…together in the shower?" "Id just pick
you up and theyd only see one pair of feet under the curtain," Chelsea giggled, "Like
this." And she crossed her hands under Genevieves little ass and lifted her like she
weighed nothing. Then she let go, and Genevieve screamed, afraid shed slip and fall on
the hard tiles, and instinctively wrapped her arms and legs around Chelsea and clung to
her for dear life. Chelsea poured some shower gel on her large sponge and began gently
soaping Genevieves shoulders and back. "Doesnt it feel great?" Chelsea asked softly.
"Er..yeah…uh…but, could you…um…maybe, put me down now?" Genevieve asked.
"Ok, but first do my back," Chelsea said, putting the sponge under her chin, and holding
Genevieve tight, under the ass. Cautiously, Genevieve released Chelsea from her arms
embrace, although she kept her legs wrapped tightly around Chelseas waist, and
reluctantly she took the sponge from under Chelseas chin and began soaping Chelseas
shoulders and back. "Mmmmmm, that feels soooooo fantastic," Chelsea purred, giving
Genevieve a little kiss on her neck, "Youre a totally awesome BFF!" "Th-thanks,"
Genevieve said, trembling and terrified, and she cried meekly, "Please Chelsea. Please
put me down." Just then they heard the door open and they heard a couple of girls
talking and giggling. "Ok, down you go," Chelsea whispered. "Noooo!" Genevieve
whispered, cleaving tightly to Chelsea. "Make up your mind!" Chelsea whispered and
giggled. "Hi…" one of the voices said. "Hi," Chelsea shouted. The water went on in the
next stall, and the girl in the shower started having a conversation back and forth with her
friend outside the stall. "I think were going to be here for a while," Chelsea whispered
to Genevieve, who sighed and rested her head on Chelseas shoulder, and couldnt
believe shed gotten into such a predicament.
"If youve never been on a date, have you even kissed a guy?" Chelsea whispered. "I
played some kissing games at parties," Genevieve whispered. She felt Chelsea shake
with silent laughter. "Whats the big deal? Its just kissing, isnt it?" Genevieve
whispered. "Kissing is the key to everything that follows," Chelsea whispered, "Go
ahead, show me what youve got." "Huh?" Genevieve whispered, "You mean, kiss
you?" Chelsea rolled her eyes. "My God, youre so repressed! Trust me, a killer kiss is
worth ten times more than a pair of big boobs," she whispered. Genevieve looked in her
eyes with complete confusion helplessness. "Do you, or do you not want to knock a
guys socks off when you kiss him?" Chelsea whispered. "I…do, I guess," Genevieve
whispered. "Ok, then pretend Im the hottest guy you can imagine…and give it
everything youve got," Chelsea whispered. Genevieve bit her lip and closed her eyes
and planted a hard, lingering kiss on Chelseas lips. The mere feel of Genevieves soft
lips on hers got Chelsea horny, but she took a deep breath and calmed herself down.
"That was…uh…not bad," Chelsea whispered. "But not great, huh?" Genevieve
whispered. "Do you want me to show you?" Chelsea whispered. "Yes. Please,"
Genevieve whispered. "Well…all right. So, like, remember, Im you, and youre a hot
guy, ok?" Chelsea whispered. "Got it," Genvieve whispered, and she closed her eyes.
Chelsea left a feather-soft kiss at one corner of Genevieves mouth, and then another at
the opposite corner, and then back to the other side, a little closer, and back to the other
side, closer still, and then she gently rubbed her lips against Genevieves and softly licked
between Genevieves lips with the tip of her tongue. Chelsea gently teased first
Genevieves lower lip and then her upper lip, between her teeth. She could feel
Genevieves heart pounding against her breasts, and she was breathing quickly and
deeply. Chelsea leaned Genevieve against the shower wall, with the warm water gently
cascading over the two of them, enveloped Genevieve in her luxurious, dizzying kiss.
Chelsea hoped by the quiet moan that escaped Genevieves nostrils, that she was no
longer imagining that Chelsea was a guy, but had surrendered herself completely to
Chelseas hot, sweet, intoxicating kiss. Her hopes were confirmed in a moment, when
she felt Genevieves long fingernails gently scratching her back, as she was doing to
Genevieve. It was the first time Chelsea had felt another girls really long nails on her,
and it drove her absolutely wild. Between long, passionate kisses, Chelsea whispered,
"Will you show me how to use your vibrator sometime?" "Ok," Genevieve panted,
frantic for another of Chelseas warm-honey kisses. "Want me to show you how to get
off using long nails?" Chelsea whispered. "Yesssss!" Genevieve gasped, her tongue
groping for Chelseas mouth. "Ok," Chelsea whispered, "Lets go back to your room."
Quickly they wrapped themselves in towels and grabbed their things and ran to
Genevieves room. "Your roommate…?" Chelsea asked. "She wont be back till around
four," Genevieve said. She quickly rummaged in her underwear drawer and brought out
a little pink plastic cylinder a bit larger than a lipstick case. She twisted it and it buzzed,
and she took Chelseas hand and touched the tip of the vibrator to her palm, and she
giggled. Chelsea smiled and said, "Show me how." Genevieve sat down on the bed and
spread her legs and started to apply the vibrator to her pussy. Chelsea got down on her
knees, crossing her arms and resting them on Genevieves knees, and she rested her chin
on her arms, so she was looking intently at Genevieves crotch from about six inches
away. Just as Genevieve closed her eyes and started to breathe hard, Chelsea grabbed her
hand and asked, "Now me?" "Huh?…ok," Genevieve said, reluctantly. Highly aroused
from their kissing in the shower, she really needed to cum. But she offered the vibrator
to Chelsea. "Um…" Chelsea said shyly, "Im kinda scared." "Theres nothing to…"
Genevieve started. "Could you do it?…I mean, just at first," Chelsea pleaded. And she
sat up on the bed against the headboard and spread her legs wide, grasping Genevieves
hand and pulling her along. Genevieve lay on her stomach between Chelseas legs and
began to work her pussy with the vibrator. She grasped Genevieves hand with both of
hers and gently pulled the vibrator deeper into her pussy. She began rolling her pelvis in
circles, moaning loud. Genevieve giggled. Suddenly Chelseas body shook with an
orgasm. "How was it?" Genevieve asked with a smile. Chelseas eyes narrowed, and a
lustful smile crossed her face. She pulled Genevieve on top of her and turned her on her
back. Genevieve squirmed when she felt Chelseas nails against her labia, but then she
began moaning softly as Chelsea began to tease her little clit with her long fingernails.
Chelsea continued to fondle Genevieves clit with her thumbnail and pointer finger nail,
as Genevieves moans grew louder and louder, until Chelsea felt Genevieves body
shudder violently, and then go completely limp. "How was that?" Chelsea asked sweetly.
Genevieve looked up at her with pleasured eyes. "Now do me just like I did you,"
Chelsea commanded, and in a lusty whisper, "With your long nails."
"More fingers!" Chelsea panted as Genevieve softly scratched and pinched and fondled
her large, hard clit with her thumbnail and pointer finger nail. "Youre so little…put
them all in! Put your whole hand in!" Chelsea screamed. "Im afraid Ill...," Genevieve
said fearfully. "Just do it!" Chelsea cried, and Genevieve complied. She rolled Chelseas
clit between her thumbnail and all four fingernails, and Chelsea shrieked, "Ohhhhhhhh,
God, Yessssssss. Dont stop. Ohh! Ohh! Ohhhhhhhhhh!" She was thrashing around,
clawing the pillow over her face and biting it, and rubbing her bare feet against
Genevieves ribs in rhythm to her fingers. "Oww!" Genevieve cried as Chelseas toenails
clawed her sides. "Sorry…I cant help it," Chelsea gasped, "Youre amazing…youre
incredible….Ohhhhhhhhh God…." And the bed shook as if there was an earthquake,
Chelsea convulsing and screaming and gasping for air. Finally Chelsea calmed down,
and when she looked up, Genevieve was just sitting there with a frightened expression,
her little hand and long, dark-red fingernails glistening with Chelseas juices. Chelsea
had always longed to have someone else with long nails do her, but this was the first time
it had happened.
Chelsea sat up and grabbed Genevieves arm and pulled her down on top of her. "Im
sooo going to reward you for that!" she gushed, and she started kissing Genevieves little
breast-buds and sucking her nipples, which quickly responded by swelling up enormously
as theyd done earlier. "Wait, Chelsea, this isnt what I…" Genevieve said, as Chelsea
trailed hot kisses up her chest and on to her neck. "I dont think we should…."
Genevieve sighed, breathing hard, and then she gasped loudly as she felt Chelseas teeth
and lips sucking her neck. In an instant she was drowning in Chelseas sweet, hot kiss,
and Chelsea felt the breath of surrender escape Genevieves nostrils, and Genevieves
wonderful long fingernails softly scratching her shoulders and back. Genevieve started
panting hard when she felt Chelseas nails gently press against her little mound, and the
tip of one lightly scrape her swollen little clit. "Do you want me to stop?" Chelsea
whispered. "No," Genevieve panted. "Tell me you love me," Chelsea said softly.
"I…I….," Genevieve gasped. Chelsea lifted her finger off Genevieves bud. "I love
you," Genevieve whispered, but not feeling Chelsea respond, she cried, "I love you! I
love you!" "Awesome," Chelsea sighed, and she slid her middle finger all the way in to
Genevieve. She let out a sharp squeal, and then started moaning and whimpering and
gasping, as Chelsea continued working her clit with her thumbnail and pointer finger nail,
until Genevieve shook like a rag doll and fell limp, her little swollen breast-buds heaving
up and down to her deep sighs. Finally, Genevieve opened her eyes, and she smiled at
Chelsea. But her expression changed quickly to alarm, as she saw Chelsea wiping blood
off her fingers onto the sheet. "Oh, shit!" Genevieve cried, sitting up, and when she
hurriedly looked between her legs and saw a large blood-soaked circle, she screamed,
"You scratched me!" Chelsea put her hand over her mouth and muffled a laugh. "Its
not funny!" Genevieve cried. "I didnt scratch you, sweetie," Chelsea said softly.
Genevieve cocked her head and looked puzzled, but when she saw Chelsea raise her
eyebrows and smile, Genevieves dark eyes started to grow wide, and Chelsea nodded
and smiled bigger. "Noooooooooooooooo!" Genevieve screamed, pulling the sheets up
to her neck, tears flowing from her eyes like rivers. "What?" Chelsea asked ingenuously.
"I cant believe it!" Genevieve sobbed, "I cant believe you did that to me!" Chelsea put
her hands on her hips and huffed, "You sure have a strange way of showing gratitude."
"What?!" Genevieve screamed. Chelsea said, "I promised to help you lose your
virginity. And you said, and I quote: Id be, like, so totally grateful to you."
"Oh my God!" Genevieve cried, "I didnt think you meant….I thought you were gonna
fix me up with a guy!" "Oh," Chelsea said, "Ok. I forgive you." Genevieve looked at
her wild-eyed. "Anyway, you should really be happy," Chelsea smiled. "Oh my God!
Why?!" Genevieve screamed. "Because it happened with someone you love," Chelsea
said softly, and then tears began to flow down her cheeks and she continued, "You
werent lying when you said you love me….were you?" Genevieve hung her head and
shook it no, then she raised her pleading eyes to Chelsea, who took Genevieve in her
arms and rocked her gently. "What if I get you a guy?" Chelsea whispered, "Would you
like that? Would that make it better?" "I dont know," Genevieve said, utterly and
completely confused. "Ive got to go to an appointment now, but I know just the right
guy," Chelsea said, as she put on her robe, "Hes, like, really sweet and totally hot."
"Thanks," Genevieve said weakly, convinced that she had no chance of getting such a
guy on her own. "Itll be my pleasure," Chelsea said, then she gushed, "I know! Well do
him together! Itll be awesome!" "Huh?..wait!" Genevieve cried, stumbling off the bed,
but she heard the door close and Chelsea was gone.
Chelsea dressed quickly, in a short skirt and tight knitted top. She put on sneakers, but
slipped a pair of strappy high-heeled sandals into her daypack, and she headed over to
professor Langs office. He heard a clicking on the rippled-glass window of his office
door, and he shouted, "Come in, its open." The knob turned a little, and the door rattled
but didnt open, and then there was the same clicking sound on the glass. Professor Lang
got up from his desk and came over and turned the knob, and he had to tug on the door
before it would open. "Sorry, it sticks a little sometimes," he said, quickly surveying
Chelseas loveliness, from her model-beautiful face and long, silky brown hair, to her
perfect, smooth feet with sexy longish, red-painted toenails, now perched on the high-
heeled strappy sandals shed brought. "Its my fault, doorknobs kinda freak me out."
"Oh yeah?" he said with a laugh. "I have a morbid fear of breaking my nails," she said,
finger-waving her inch-long fingernails under his eyes as she sashayed past him. "I
wonder if the psychologists have a name for that phobia," he joked. "Maybe they do,"
Chelsea smiled, "I know they have a name for when guys get turned on by long nails.
Its called a nail fetish." She smiled at professor Lang and made a cat-like scratching
motion just in front of his face, "But I just call it awesome."
Professor Lang coughed a little and took a deep breath and said, ""Ms….uh?" "Chelsea,"
she said sweetly. "Chelsea, what can I do for you?" he asked. "Almost anything you can
think of," she answered with a wink. His handsome face frowned. Chelsea burst into
laughter. "I bet you get that from lots of people," she said, and before he could respond
she added, "I do." "Do you have something in particular you came here for?" he asked
her, a little impatiently, sliding a wooden chair in front of his desk and motioning to her.
"Definitely," she said, ignoring the offering and instead sitting down on a short leather
couch and slowly withdrawing her feet from her strappy high-heeled sandals and bringing
them up beside her. "Well?" he asked, after a long pause. "Im somewhat confused
about the concept of free will," she said. "You and a few billion others throughout
time," he laughed, "But lots of people believe in it anyway." "I dont believe in it." she
said. "Really?" he said, "I do." He was still standing by his desk, and Chelsea motioned
him toward the couch with her eyes. "Convince me then," she said. Being a philosophy
professor, he was intrigued by the challenge of convincing someone to alter their beliefs
in favor of his, and he sat on the arm of the couch opposite Chelsea. Chelsea smiled
sweetly and said, "That looks really uncomfortable," then added, "I dont bite." He
sighed and blushed and slid down onto the seat of the couch. "I scratch," Chelsea
whispered, smiling into his eyes, and scraping her inch-long fingernails along the seat
cushion. He watched her nails indent the cushion, and leave light marks in the leather,
and Chelsea saw him swallow hard.
"The debate over free will stems from a theological attempt to explain why there is evil in
a world supposedly created by a beneficent God," professor Lang began, "Believers in
free will cite the story of the serpent in the Garden of Eden as proof of the concept that
God allows man to choose whether or not to obey his commandments, and that pain and
suffering are the result of choosing to disobey them." "If I remember right, Eve took
some convincing by the snake to get her to eat the apple, but all she had to do was hand it
to Adam," Chelsea said, extending her hand to professor Lang with her palm upturned
and fingers curved as if holding an imaginary apple. Her inch-long, clear, natural
fingernails looked to him beautiful and dangerous at the same time. He could tell that
Chelsea was studying him intently, and that made him overly-aware of his every reaction.
Were his pupils dilating? Was his face flushed? Was there perspiration on his brow? He
could hear his heart pounding in his ears…could she hear it, too? He tried to measure
his breathing, to keep it slow and normal. But the more he tried to refrain from breathing
hard, the more his brain cried out for oxygen. "I dont believe we have free will,
Steven," Chelsea said with intensity, " I think, whether we can resist temptation depends
totally on how strong our needs are, just like any animal." Professor Lang looked at
Chelsea intently. "Lets say your hypothesis is correct. But, there are many kinds of
needs," he responded, "Would you agree that what sets us apart from animals is that our
emotional needs are stronger than our physical ones?" "It only seems like that until
someone unlocks even stronger physical needs," Chelsea said, smiling. His first
impression of her, as being just another typical shallow, flirtatious, hot young co-ed, was
quickly giving way to a fascination with the depth of her insight. He had no trouble
fending off the advances of horny female students, and had never once cheated on his
wife. But he was finding himself attracted to Chelsea on an intellectual level, and that
scared him.
"Id like to suggest some possible reading for you, on the subject of emotional versus
physical needs," professor Lang said, reaching for the arm of the couch, but before he
could move, Chelsea came very close to him, kneeling on the couch in her very short
skirt, and put her hand on his shoulder. She wasnt wearing panties, and the scent of her
own womanly musk wafted up to their nostrils. "Can you smell how much I need you,
Steven?" she whispered, her lips almost touching his ear, and she ever-so-lightly stroked
his neck with a single long fingernail. "Chelsea," he said quietly but firmly, "Im very
happily married." "Your emotional need for her are stronger than your physical need for
me?" she said. "Yes, exactly!" he said. "But," she said, smiling, "I would argue that you
dont know yet just how strong your physical need for me can become." And she kissed
him gently on the cheek and sat back, slipping her strappy sandals on, and she stood up.
"I really like talking with you, Steven," Chelsea said. "Uh…oh…yes, me too!" professor
Lang said, jumping to his feet. He wasnt sure if Chelsea had actually been trying to
seduce him, or whether she was trying to prove her philosophical argument. He found
the second possibility extremely exciting. He saw her to the door and she motioned to it
with her head. "It sticks, remember?" she said sweetly, sweeping her long nails before his
eyes with a graceful flourish, "We wouldnt want me to break one of these." Professor
Lang opened the door and Chelsea stood in the doorway and smiled at him. "Oh, I have a
little homework assignment for you," she said playfully. "Huh?" he laughed, perplexed.
"When youre having sex with your wife tonight…and I know you will," she said softly,
narrowing her sultry hazel eyes, while slowly scraping her long fingernails gently down
the side of his face, "I challenge you not to think about me." And she walked away,
hearing the sound of his door slamming shut. Back inside, he realized that the scent of
Chelseas female musk permeated the air. He looked down and saw the huge bulge in
his pants, and, his heart racing, he quickly opened the window and took deep breaths of
fresh air.
Chelsea got back to her dorm around five-thirty, and went into her room. Mary wasnt
there, and Chelsea called her cell. "Where are you?" she asked Mary.
"Uhhh…studying," Mary said. "Bullshit," Chelsea snapped, then she said urgently,
"Come home. I want you." "I…uh, ok. Ill be there in, like, fifteen minutes," Mary said.
"Make it ten, or Ill have to start without you," Chelsea giggled. Mary was walking up
to the door when her cell rang again, and she went inside to a fuming Chelsea. "What
took you so long?" Chelsea screamed. She saw the terrified look on Marys face, and
Chelsea smiled and said with a wink, "Oh, I get it. Teasing me. Awesome!" "No, I…,"
Mary started, but the rest of her words disappeared into Chelseas dizzying kiss. "Im,
like, soooo horny," Chelsea sighed, clawing at Marys clothes and spinning her on to the
bed. She began kissing and sucking Marys large breasts, then her kisses trailed down
Marys stomach as Chelsea slipped her long nails into Marys panties and pulled them
down. "Mmmmmmm," Chelsea moaned as she licked Marys pussy lips, but then she
sniffed a couple times and smacked her lips, and lifted her head and stared into Marys
eyes. "Oh. My. God," Chelsea said, "You just had sex with some guy!" "Oh my God!"
Mary cried, "You can tell?" Chelsea narrowed her eyes and nodded. "I…Im s-sorry,"
Mary sobbed, "It was just a hookup. It didnt mean anything. Honest! I just…had to find
out if I still liked guys. Everythings been happening to me so fast and…" Chelsea
smiled, "Its ok. Im not, like, pissed at you or anything." "Y-youre not?" Mary asked,
perplexed. "Of course not. In fact, Im happy for you. Were BFFs, remember?"
Chelsea smiled. "Its not that I…I mean, I still love you!" Mary cried. "I know you do,"
Chelsea said reassuringly, then she gushed, "I want all the juicy details." "Really?" Mary
said. "Really!" Chelsea giggled, "Dont leave anything out!" "Ok," Mary said, with a
smile and a sigh of relief, and she began, "Well, his name is Mark Halberstam, hes a
senior, we met at lunch and he lives over in Mayview Hall and..." Chelsea sat up on the
bed and pulled Marys hand up under her skirt. "Do me while you tell me about it,"
Chelsea commanded lustfully. Mary went on to describe her impulsive sexual encounter
in intricate detail just as Chelsea had requested, while she fingered Chelseas clit. Once,
Chelseas moaning got so loud that Mary stopped talking, but Chelsea panted, "Go on.
Im listening." Mary continued her recounting, and just as she got to the part where she
had orgasmed with Mark, Chelsea exhaled sharply and clenched her thighs together.
Mary laughed, "Ill have to tell Mark it was good for you too." Chelsea took Marys
hands, which were beginning to show a little nail growth, perhaps an eighth of an inch, as
she hadnt cut them in about a week, since before she came to school. "Dont you dare
even think about cutting them! I totally have to have them, like, at least this long,"
Chelsea said urgently, holding her fingertips about a half-inch in front of Marys nails,
and thinking about how much stronger her orgasm had been from Genevieves half-inch
long nails. "So, are you gonna see Mark again?" Chelsea asked. "I dunno," Mary said
timidly, "Do you think I should?" "Is he hot?" Chelsea asked. "Totally!" Mary smiled.
"Can he make you cum?" Chelsea asked. "Oh yeah!" Mary nodded. "Then, yes,"
Chelsea said. "But I dont know anything about him," Mary said. Chelsea furrowed her
brow and said, "You know all the important stuff."
Mary went off to the library, and Chelsea got some tofu and cucumber from the little
refrigerator, and followed it with an apple and some banana yogurt and a diet Pepsi, and
she rolled out her yoga mat and went through her daily exercise routine, watching herself
in the full-length mirror, and admiring her toned, extremely flexible body. Then she took
a quick shower and came back to her room and touched up her fingernails and toenails,
and applied skin moisturizer all over her body. Seeing herself glistening from head to
toe, and feeling her soft skin under her fingertips, Chelsea began softly stroking herself
with her nails, and her breathing grew quicker. She picked up her cell and called
Genevieve. "I promised to introduce you to someone," Chelsea said sweetly, "Stop by
my room, ok?" Genevieve paused for a moment and then said timidly, "Look, Chelsea,
about what you said…I mean, about you and I and this guy...together…" Chelsea
giggled, "You really need to chill out, and not take everything I say seriously."
Genevieve giggled nervously, and Chelsea could hear her relief. In a few minutes there
was a knock on the door. "Chelsea? Its Genevieve," Genevieve said. "I left it open for
you," Chelsea hollered. When she heard the door open and shut she added, "Lock it,
ok?" and she heard the deadbolt click. Genevieve came into the room and Chelsea
giggled when she saw Genevieve dressed in a knit top and a pair of jeans, her black hair
in a single braid wrapped around and around and pinned to her head, and a pair of clunky
black Doc Martens on her feet. Genevieve immediately saw that Chelsea was lying
naked on the bed. "I thought...," Genevieve began. "I was just moisturizing," Chelsea
said, "Here, help me and well get out of here quicker." And she handed the plastic bottle
of moisturizer to Genevieve and flipped onto her stomach. Shyly and reluctantly,
Genevieve nonetheless complied, and began gently rubbing moisturizer onto Chelseas
back and shoulders. Chelsea felt Genevieves nails scrape her several times, and she bit
her lip and curled her toes and fought the urge to ravish her new friend like a wild animal.
"Do you moisturize?" Chelsea asked sweetly. "No," Genevieve said meekly. "You so
have to!" Chelsea cried, "Having perfect skin is part of being totally hot. Go ahead, put
some on." "Ok," Genevieve giggled. Chelsea turned on her side and watched with
growing lust as Genevieve daintily applied the moisturizer to her face and arms. It had
an unearthly, intoxicating fragrance that filled her senses. "Here, let me," Chelsea said
softly, taking the bottle from her and sensuously applying the moisturizer to Genevieves
neck and shoulders, and down her back, scraping gently with her long fingernails.
"Chelsea? Oh my God…nooo," Genevieve pleaded weakly, as Chelseas face
approached her, with closed eyes and parted lips. "Just one kiss and then well go, I
promise," Chelsea said, but one kiss was enough to overcome Genevieves strongest
inhibitions, and soon she felt Chelsea take her hand and guide her long, red-polished
fingernails to Chelseas pussy, while she felt Chelseas nails enter her little pussy, and
they both skyrocketed to simultaneous orgasms. "Ready to rock?" Chelsea said, sitting
up suddenly and pulling on a long, tight tube dress. Genevieve looked apprehensive, and
began to re-dress herself. Chelsea said, "Youre a girl, not an artichoke," Chelsea
laughed, "Guys want to fuck girls, not peel them." Genevieve laughed nervously, and
Chelsea said, "Lets stop in your room and see what other stuff you have." "I dont
know, Chelsea," she began hesitantly. "You so need to mellow out," Chelsea said,
fishing under her bed for a suitcase and she brought out a pint bottle of Jack Daniels.
"Um…I dont drink," Genevieve said. "One shot," Chelsea said, "A toast. To new
horizons." She took a swig and handed the bottle to Genevieve, who put it to her lips
trepiditiously. "And, to getting horizontal," Chelsea laughed, holding the back of
Genevieves neck with one hand, while with her other hand she upended the bottle to
Genevieves lips and made sure she took a good swig. Genevieve gasped and coughed
and her eyes watered. Chelsea smiled, "See, you do drink!" She upended the bottle to
Genevieves lips and made her take another swig, saying, "The second one is lots
smoother." Which, of course, was a lie. "How do you feel?" Chelsea asked. "Uh…I
dont know…fine, I guess," Genevieve said, unaware that it would take more than a
couple seconds for her to feel the effect of a couple shots of straight whiskey, even with
her featherweight body. "See, you should always trust me," Chelsea said sweetly, "And
on that note…" she produced a little plastic bag with a bunch of joints, and she escorted
Genevieve to the window and opened it, then she lit a joint and took a drag and passed it
to Genevieve. "Ive never...," Genevieve started. "Dont take a big hit, just little, tiny
ones, but dont exhale," Chelsea instructed, "Then hold it as long as you can." Chelsea
was careful not to let Genevieve do too much dope, because she didnt want her getting
sick or falling asleep. Chelsea carefully snuffed out the joint and put it back in the bag,
and put her stash back in the suitcase under the bed.
By the they got down to her room, Genevieve was happy and mellow and completely
compliant. Chelsea rummaged through Genevieves clothes and found a clingy little
summer dress and handed it to her. "Here, this will have to do until we can get you
shopping for some decent stuff," Chelsea said, "It wont be on you very long anyway."
Drunk and high, Genevieve giggled. "My God, dont you have any sexy shoes?" Chelsea
cried, looking through Genevieves collection of tiny sneakers, Birkenstocks, and one
pair of hiking boots, beside the clunky Doc Martens she had on. "Oh well, forget
shoes," she said. "Huh?" Genevieve said, looking at her feet. "Were just going one floor
down. A girl barefoot is a huge turn-on for most guys anyway." Chelsea helped
Genevieve out of her clothes, and then she quickly undid her hair and grabbed a brush
and brushed it out long and straight and silky. She helped Genevieve into the clingy
summer dress, and as she smoothed it over Genevieves narrow hips, she hooked her
thumbs into Genevieves panties and pulled them down. "What are you doing?!"
Genevieve screeched. "This is a commando mission," Chelsea giggled. And before
Genevieve could protest, Chelsea pulled her by her hand out into the hall and toward the
stairwell.
"Its me," Chelsea said loudly as she knocked on Kyles door. He opened the door with a
surprised look when he saw that Chelsea wasnt alone. "This is Genevieve," she said to
Kyle, pulling her into the room past him. Kyle shut the door. "Hey Jen," he said. "Its
Genevieve," she insisted, her shyness vanquished by the liquor and dope. "Ok," Kyle
said, backing off, "Genevieve." "Genevieve is, like, way horny and shes totally in to
having sex with you," Chelsea said. "Chelsea!! Oh my God!!" Genevieve cried. "What?
You are, arent you?" Chelsea said blandly. Kyle and Genevieve were both bright red,
and Chelsea giggled, "You guys match." Kyle took Chelsea aside and whispered in her
ear "Chelsea...whats up? I told you last night that Im in love with you, and today you
bring some strange girl to my room and want me to screw her?" Chelsea whispered to
him, "Im not like Mary. Its ok if you love me and screw other girls." "Are you
serious?" he whispered. "Dont I look serious?" she asked. Then she said, out loud,
"Kyle, look at Genevieves nails. Arent they hot!" Kyle got even redder, but he
couldnt keep from looking, and when he saw Genevieves long, red nails, he started
breathing hard. "See," Chelsea winked at him, "Ill leave you two alone to get
acquainted." And she winked at Genevieve and blew her a kiss, and Genevieve smiled a
bright smile of appreciation and admiration.
"You have the most incredible hair Ive ever seen!" Kyle gushed. "Thanks," Genevieve
said. "Can I touch it?" Kyle asked. "Ok," Genevieve said. Kyle stroked Genevieves
below-knee-length silky black hair, and combed his fingers through it. She ran her own
fingers through her hair, and Kyle started panting at the sight of Genevieves long, red
fingernails trailing through the strands. "Youre really pretty," Kyle said. "Thanks,"
Genevieve said. Kyle touched Genevieves lovely little face, and she lowered her head
and nuzzled his hand. "Can I kiss you?" he asked. "Ok," Genevieve said, lifting her face
to his and closing her eyes. He smelled the whiskey and dope on her breath, and he
began to kiss her tenderly, but as the only real experience Genevieve had ever had
making out was with Chelsea, she responded with the same kind of frenzied, lust-filled
onslaught of lips, tongue…and nails. It drove Kyle wild, and they fell on to his bed and
he quickly pulled his jeans off, and his rock-hard dick sprang free. When she saw how
big it was compared to her little vibrator, Genevieve screamed, and she flattened herself
against the wall, terrified but giggling uncontrollably from the dope. "Whats wrong?"
Kyle cried. "Im…its…um…," Genevieve babbled incoherently. "I thought you wanted
to," he said. "I did," she said, "I mean, I do." How could she explain not being a virgin
but never having seen a guys dick before? By that time, Kyles erection had subsided
quite a bit, and his dick wasnt as intimidating as it had been to Genevieve, and she
relaxed. "I dont have a lot of experience with guys," she said, which was about as much
truth as she could reveal to him, "I dont want to disappoint you." "Dont worry," Kyle
said, "You wont. Youre really nice, and beautiful…and I really like you." And he put
his arms around her and kissed her. This time she followed his lead and their kiss was
warm and tender. Kyle switched off the light, and the room was lit only by the street
lamp far outside the window. He slipped her dress over her head and felt for her
underwear, which of course she had none. "Dont tell me…no-panties was Chelseas
idea," he said. Genevieve giggled. "Chelseas a piece of work," Kyle said, "But this
time I think shes outfoxed herself. I cant believe I thought I was falling for her. Being
with you reminded me of what I really want in someone. "Thanks," Genevieve said.
Then after a pause, she asked, "So do you still want to do it?" "Yeah," Kyle said, "Do
you?" "Ok," Genevieve said. And they began making out. Kyle caressed Genevieves
chest. "Im sorry," she whispered. "What for?" he asked. "Maybe someday Ill be able
to afford a boob job," she said. "Youre beautiful just the way you are, Genevieve," Kyle
said, and she kissed him long and tenderly, with tears streaming down her cheeks, and he
rolled on top of her and began to enter her. Despite not having her virginity, she was still
very tight, and she was grateful that Kyle was going very slowly. Eventually he was all
the way inside her, and she wrapped her little legs around him, and as he gently started
thrusting, she began to relax and let her arousal take over, and in no time she was
moaning loudly and clawing his back with her long, red nails. That drove Kyle wilder,
and he thrust harder. They were both on the verge of cumming, when they heard the door
open and close, and they both froze. "I thought Id better check on you two," came
Chelseas soft, sweet voice. There was a quick swishing of fabric as Chelsea pulled her
tube dress off, and in an instant she was in bed with them, scratching Kyles back with
her long nails, and kissing and licking the back of his neck. She reached down and gently
fondled his balls with her nails, and then she scratched his thighs and legs. "Oh my
God!" Genevieve gasped. "What?," Chelsea said. "You said not to take you seriously!"
Genevieve cried. "And now you see why," Chelsea giggled, then she said, "Ok, you guys
are gonna have to change positions, because one of you has to do me while you do each
other. Then well switch. Itll be awesome!" "Kyle! Do something!" Genevieve
sobbed. "Youre so cute Genevieve," Chelsea giggled, "A threeway with a couple of hot
girls is every guys fantasy." And she gently bit Kyles neck and fondled his balls, and
she giggled when he let out a long moan of pleasure. "Oh my God," Genevieve cried,
"Let me out. I want to go." "Ok," Chelsea said, "But before you go I just need to snack
on your little toes." "Huh? What? No!" Genevieve said, but Chelsea held her ankles and
began licking and sucking her toes. "W-what are you doing?" Genevieve gasped,
inhaling sharply. ""Mmmmmmmm, theyre, like, soooo yummy," Chelsea said between
slurps. "Noooo…nooooo….," Genevieve whined, but her whines turned to moans of
pleasure and she started thrusting her hips against Kyle.
Chelsea pulled Kyle and Genevieve over so that Genevieve was on top. "Thats better,"
she said, and she sat on top of Kyle, in front of Genevieve facing the same direction.
Chelsea slid her pelvis forward so her pussy was on Kyles face, and as he began eating
her, she pulled Genevieves arms around her with her hands on her boobs. "Use your
nails," Chelsea whispered, as she guided Genevieves fingers into a rhythm fondling her
nipples. She reached back and grasped Genevieves ass with her long nails and urged her
to ride Kyles cock. "Ohhhhhh, yessssssss! Thats it!" Chelsea moaned, "Oh Genevieve,
youre amazing. Oh, God Kyle, your tongue is driving me wild." She could hear Kyle
moaning, muffled by her pussy, and Genevieve was moaning and crying out in wild
pleasure. "I told you itd be awesome, didnt I? You always have to trust me,
Genevieve," Chelsea whispered. "Uhhh, Im gonna cum," Kyle groaned. "Me too…I
think," Genevieve squeaked. "You are wearing a condom, arent you?" Chelsea said to
Kyle, "Genevieves not on the pill…or anything." "Huh? No! Shit!" Kyle gasped,
"Genevieve, why didnt you say something?" "Im sorry," she said quietly, "I guess I
wasnt thinking. Chelsea, I told you I never drank or did dope!" And she started giggling
uncontrollably again. "You have to get off of me, like, now!" Kyle screamed.
Genevieve said, "Why? I cant get pregnant if Im on top….right?" "Oh my God!!" Kyle
yelled, writhing under the weight of both girls. Chelsea burst into laughter. "Its not
fucking funny!" Kyle screamed, "Get her off of my dick!" Genevieve started to weep,
"Im sorry. Im sorry. Ill go."
"Ok, chill out, both you guys," Chelsea said sweetly. "Kyle," she said, "Do you have any
condoms?" "Yeah…in the top drawer over there," he said. "Awesome!" Chelsea said,
"Genevieve, go grab one….wait, grab a handful." Genevieve and Kyle both moaned as
she slowly slid up and off his cock, and then she stumbled off the bed, tripped, picked
herself up, and fumbled through Kyles dresser drawer. Behind her she heard Kyle moan
loudly, and she turned around to see Chelsea riding Kyles cock and stroking her long
nails down his chest. "Noooo!" she whined. "Dont worry, Im just keeping him up for
you," Chelsea panted. "Oh, ok, thanks," Genevieve said. As she stumbled back to the
bed, she heard Chelsea cry out, and saw Kyle arch his back and grunt loudly, and the two
of them convulsed for several moments, and then Chelsea fell sideways off of Kyle, both
of them gasping for air. Chelsea and Kyle looked at Genevieve, standing there like a
little angel with her below-the-knee-length black hair covering her tiny naked body, tears
streaming down her cheeks, and clutching a long strip of condoms in her long, red
fingernails. She dropped the condoms and started looking frantically for her dress.
"Why are you going?" Chelsea said. "Home," Genevieve sobbed. "Why? Hell be
ready to go again in ten minutes," Chelsea said, taking Genevieves hand and pulling her
into bed. "Really? Ten minutes?" Genevieve said with surprise. "Five, if he sees us
make out," Chelsea whispered, and she started kissing and fondling Genevieve. The
sight of their two sets of long, beautiful fingernails stroking each other, and the pleasured
sounds Genevieve made into Chelseas kiss…a feeling Kyle knew and understood…got
him hard almost instantly. Chelsea saw Kyles dick standing up straight, and she smiled
at Genevieve. Kyle hastily put on a condom and held out his arms for Genevieve, who
slowly lowered herself on to his hard cock, making a loud gasp as she felt it fill her
insides. She reached out and scratched his chest as shed seen Chelsea do, and Kyle
groaned with pleasure. "Ill leave if you want," Chelsea said. Kyle looked up at
Genevieve pleadingly. "You dont have to," Genevieve said softly. "Awesome!"
Chelsea whispered, stretching out beside them, and she raised her leg and took one of
Genevieves hands and guided it to her pussy, and at the same time she scratched her
long nails gently against Kyles cheek and enveloped his mouth with hers. Some time
later, Chelsea left Genevieve and Kyle sleeping soundly in each others arms, and she
went upstairs to her room. Mary woke up suddenly to the sight and feel of her toes in
Chelseas mouth. "Im sorry. Did I wake you?" Chelsea whispered. "Huh? What time
is it?" Mary groaned, yawning. "Play time," Chelsea giggled, lightly digging her inch-
long fingernails into Marys thighs and scratching them down her legs.
Wednesday, Chelsea had the same classes as Monday, and at 11 oclock she found Tom
and sat down next to him. "Wheres Diane?" Chelsea asked. "Getting coffee for us," he
said, then he went on, "Look, before she gets back…" "You want to make out? Ok!"
Chelsea smiled. "No! I want to talk," Tom said. "Ok," Chelsea said, "But then lets
make out." "Stop it!" Tom cried, "Im serious." "So am I," Chelsea said, staring into his
eyes. "You need to back off," Tom said sternly, "Im not interested in you." Chelsea bit
her lower lip and tears started to flow down her cheeks. "Hey, dont cry," Tom said,
"Im sorry I snapped at you. I mean, youre totally hot and all…" "Really? You think
so?" Chelsea sniffled. "Obviously youre hot," Tom said, "You must know it." "I dont
think of myself as being hot," Chelsea said very quietly, "Thats why I come on so strong
sometimes." "Well, trust me, you are smokin hot," Tom smiled. Chelsea smiled,
"Youre really nice. I hope I find a boyfriend like you someday." "You will, I know it,"
Tom said. "Thanks," Chelsea said, and they hugged. He felt her long nails press into his
back and scratch him, and he let out a little contented moan. Her clean, soapy scent filled
his head. She whispered, "Thank you so much," into his ear, and he felt her warm breath
and the brush of her soft lips. And she kissed his cheek lightly. Her lips felt him
perspiring, and she heard his breathing quicken. She stroked his other cheek slowly with
her long, natural fingernails, and in the instant she felt him inhale sharply, her mouth was
on his, and his head spun and his thoughts became a jumbled blur as he spiralled
helplessly into her hot, sweet kiss. Her hand trailed into his lap discreetly, and she gently
scraped his rock-hard bulge with her long fingernails. Tom gasped hard, and pulled back
from their kiss. His eyes were wild and he was panting. "Mmmmm," Chelsea purred, "If
thats how you kiss someone youre not interested in, I can only imagine….oh, hi
Diane!" Tom turned around suddenly to face his girlfriend, still unable to speak. "I was
just telling Tom how much Id like to meet a nice guy like him," Chelsea said. "Oh my
God!" Diane giggled, "I have just the guy for you!" "I believe you," Chelsea giggled,
scraping a long fingernail along Toms hand, unseen to Diane.
When Chelsea walked into her next class, the homely girl immediately locked eyes on
her and cast her a contemptuous look. The professor came in and sat down. There was an
empty seat next to Bobby and another next to homely girl, which is where Chelsea chose
to sit, much to Bobbys dismay, judging by his facial expression. Chelsea locked eyes
with Bobby, and she spent the rest of the hour posing her nails, scratching her arm or
head as if she had an itch, scratching the table top, licking her pen, licking her lips, and so
on. She did it not in an overtly sexual way, but in a subtle way that made it look
innocent, which didnt attract the attention of anyone else, but it drove Bobby mad with
desire. At the end of class everybody stood to leave, except Bobby, who was red-faced
and trying to conceal his shortness of breath. "Oh my God, you gave him a boner from
across the table!" homely girl gasped. "Not just a boner," Chelsea whispered and smiled,
sniffing the air. Homely girls mouth hung open, and she looked at Chelsea with
amazement and wonder, as if she were a goddess.
Chelsea sat next to Vincent in Philosophy class. "Maybe hes secretly gay," Vincent
whispered to Chelsea, as professor Lang strode up to the lectern. "Ill try to remember to
find out for you…right after I fuck him," Chelsea whispered. Vincent smiled and gave
her a playful shove and whispered, "Youre positively wicked!" Chelsea smiled, "Watch
his eyes carefully during class." "Mmmm, that wont be hard," Vincent mused. At the
beginning of class, she could see that professor Lang was purposely avoiding eye-contact
with her, but by the end of class his eyes were riveted to hers, and he loosened his tie and
blotted his forehead with a kleenex. "Oh my God!" Vincent said, and Chelsea smiled.
She followed professor Lang as he left the classroom. He picked up his pace and Chelsea
giggled, "I can outrun you, you know." Professor Lang stopped and turned around, with
a pained expression on his face. "Im sorry," Chelsea said, "I didnt mean to
immasculate you." "You didnt im….," he began. "I want you, like, totally masculine,"
Chelsea said, touching his hand with the tips of her inch-long fingernails. "Ooooh," she
said, "I was right, as usual." "I dont know what you mean…," he started. Spreading his
shirt collar with her finger and gently tracing circles around a purple hickey with her long
fingernail, Chelsea smiled and said, "Sure you do, Steven. When you were fucking your
wife last night, you fantasized that she was me." "Thats ridiculous," he cried. "Is it,
Steven?" Chelsea said, stroking her long nail from the hickey down to his Adams apple,
and then further down his breastbone, slipping in under his shirt button and twirling it
around in his chest hair, "Or are you just unwilling to concede that you dont have as
much free will as you used to believe?" He took her hand out of his shirt, and she
wrapped her soft, warm fingers around his, and they began walking. He felt her nails
pressing into his hand, and he looked down and saw her exquisitely beautiful long, white
fingernails indenting his strong, tanned skin. His gaze travelled down to her cleavage,
and the two large points made by her erect nipples pressing through her thin slik bra and
tight, knit blouse, and then travelled further to her tanned, toned legs and shapely feet,
perched in her high-heeled sandals, her perfect toes and longish red toenails gripping the
leather insoles. Chelsea stopped and raised up her toes and wiggled them slightly. "Do
you like my pedicure?" she said. Professor Lang was sweating and stammering, "Look,
I…I have to go….I…." "Were here," Chelsea smiled, and he looked up and saw they
were in front of his office door. "Chelsea, I cant let you come inside. You understand,
dont you?" he said. "Sure," she said, "Youre conceding theres no such thing as free
will." "No, thats not it at all!" he said, with stubborn insistence. "So, if you still believe
you have free will, why are you so afraid to continue discussing it with me?" she asked.
"Im not afraid!" he shouted, then realized he had shouted, and lowered his voice and
repeated, "Im not afraid." And he opened the door and followed her inside. She took
his hand with both of hers and sat down on the couch, pulling him down next to her.
"Ok, this is going to be a purely academic discussion," he said, "That means, no
touching!" Chelsea pouted, "Ok." And she sat against one arm of the couch and put her
feet up in front of her. Then she rested her soled against his thigh, and he turned to her
sternly and said, "I said no touching." "Huh? Thats not touching! Im just resting my
feet on you. My feet. Yuck. Eeeewwww. Feet," she giggled, then she raised her
eyebrows and cocked her head and said, "Wait…Youre not in to feet, are you?"
"No, not at all," professor Lang said with assurance. "Ok, if youre sure," Chelsea said,
"Because Ive known lots of guys who werent in to feet, but they were in to mine." And
she wiggled her toes. "I dont know what it is about them, do you?" she asked. "They
look like your average feet to me," he said. "Thats what I think, too," Chelsea said,
"Maybe its that I take really good care of them. My toes are all straight, and I dont
have any corns or callouses. Theyre really soft." Professor Lang smiled and laughed
nervously. "No, really, theyre, like baby-soft. Go ahead, feel them," she said, lifting her
feet. "Thats ok, I believe you," he said. "Come on, just touch my soles. Dont worry,
Im not even a little ticklish," she cajoled him. "Ok, fine. Then can we get on with our
discussion?" he sighed. "Absolutely," she smiled. Professor Lang frowned and grasped
her feet and gently felt her fleshy, wrinkled soles with his thumbs. "Oh my God, they
really are amazingly soft," he blurted, "How do you keep them like that?" "My secret,"
she teased. "Please tell me," he said, "I want to tell my wife." "And where will you tell
her you learned it?" Chelsea asked with a twinkle in her eye. "On cable," he joked,
"Everything is on cable." As she lowered her feet, she slid forward, so that her ankles
came to rest on his thigh. "Give me a foot rub and Ill tell you my secret," she said.
Professor Lang started giving Chelsea a foot rub. His hands were very strong, and
Chelsea could tell it wasnt the first time hed given a woman a foot rub. "Do you
suppose Aristotle gave his disciples foot rubs?" he joked. "His disciples were all men,"
she laughed, then added, "So…only the hot ones he wanted to fuck." "You are an
extraordinary young woman," professor Lang said, laughing. "I was going for
awesome," she smiled. Professor Lang had been quite a player in his single days,
bedding untold numbers of hot young women with his good looks alone, so he was quite
oblivious to the fact that while he concentrated on resisting Chelseas physical allure, he
was quite vulnerable to her subliminal, psychological seduction.
"You give the most amazing foot rub," Chelsea sighed. "Thanks," professor Lang
chuckled. "Youve done it before," she said. "You can tell?" he asked. "Yours are the
hands of a master," she smiled. Her repartee astounded him, coming from an eighteen
year-old freshman. "Ok, now tell me your secret," he said. "Do you think my toenails
are too long?" she asked him, curling and un-curling her toes, forcing him to take a good
look. "Well…they are longer than…" he started. "Than your wifes?" Chelsea offered.
"Well, yes," he said. "I dont know why most women cut their toenails so short, do
you?" she asked. "I guess I never thought about it," he said, continuing to massage
Chelseas feet. "And then they paint them!" Chelsea said, "Painting short toenails just
accentuates their shortness and makes the toes look stubby…dont you agree, Steven?"
"Well…I guess, now that you make me think about it," he said, and she chimed in,
"Hooray! Finally, something we agree on." He laughed. "Yours do look...," he started.
"Sexy?" she said, "Were you going to say my toenails look sexy?" "Well…uh…," he
stammered. Chelsea whispered, "Its ok if my toenails and my feet turn you on, Steven.
Ill never tell. Ill never tell anything you say to me…or do to me." Professor Lang
coughed. "Im the worlds best secret-keeper," she said. "Ok, but, you promised to tell
me the secret of your soft feet," he said. "Its actually three secrets, Steven," Chelsea
said. "Ok, tell me them all," he said. Chelsea smiled a sexy smile, "All right. The first
secret to how I keep my feet so soft, is that Im constantly getting guys to rub them."
Professor Lang just smiled and shook his head, "I guess I shouldve seen that one
coming. Whats your second secret?" "My second secret," Chelsea said, "Is that having
my feet massaged excites me sexually. Youve actually given me two orgasms so far."
Professor Lang felt a rush of adrenaline come over him, and let go of her feet. "And the
third secret…well, you could hardly call it a secret…," she said, grasping the huge tent
in his pants with her toes, "Is that youre, like, totally in to my feet." "Stop!" he pleaded,
as she gently squeezed his erection between her toes and rubbed it back and forth. "Go
ahead, Mr. Freewill, all you have to do is take my foot off your lap," she said softly,
continuing to rub his erection through his pants. "You cant, can you?" she said, rubbing
him harder and faster. He looked at her helplessly. "I get guys off with my toes all the
time," she boasted, "But I could keep you going until your balls feel like theyre going to
explode." "Youve proved your point. I concede, I dont have free will," he rasped.
Chelsea laughed, "Well, duh." "Ok…please….stop now," he begged her. "Take it out,"
she said. "What?" he cried. "Take your cock out," she said, "You totally want to feel my
toes on your bare dick, so take it out." "Please…," he moaned. "Ok. Be stubborn. I can
keep this up for hours," she giggled, slowing her rubbing of his bulge to an excruciatingly
frustrating pace. He was on the edge of cumming, his balls had started aching, and he
knew that she could keep him there as long as she claimed. With a look of supreme
resignation, he unfastened his belt and prepared to unzip his pants. Suddenly he figured
she would have to let up so he could do so, which would give him a split-second to get
away from her. "Nice try," she giggled, as if having read his thoughts, "But youre not
the first guy Ive done this to." Chelsea pushed his hand away with her free foot, and
then used her toes to deftly work his cock free, never for a moment ceasing to rub it with
her other foot. When he felt her soft, warm toes on his bare cock, he let out a long,
ecstatic moan, and in an instant Chelsea was kneeling over his lap, continuing her slow,
torturous stroking of his cock, except now she was using her hand. Chelsea reached her
other hand up and gently scratched her inch-long natural fingernails along the side of his
face and neck, at the same time stroking his shaft with her nails as well. "Do you like my
nails?" she asked sweetly. He couldnt form words to answer her, he just inhaled in a
deep gasp. "Ill take that as a yes," she giggled. As Chelsea leaned forward, professor
Lang shook his head rapidly no, but she smiled and nodded her head rapidly yes. She
started kissing his face very lightly and softly. Reflex caused him to close his eyes as her
lips approached them, and she moaned softly and she licked his eyelids with her warm
tongue. He could feel wetness soaking his pant leg where she was straddling it, and her
pungent womanly musk intoxicated his senses. Chelseas tender kisses grew closer and
closer to his mouth, her long, natural fingernails raking his cheek with just enough
pressure to excite every nerve ending in his body, and stroking his shaft just so she kept
him on the verge of cumming.
Chelseas hot breath caressed professor Langs nose and lips as she turned her head
slightly and licked her parted her lips, then enveloped his mouth with hers. Steven Lang
had never known a womans lips and tongue as soft and hot and honey-sweet as
Chelseas, and he felt himself drawn under and drowning in the warm waves of her
sensual, driving kiss. He felt her nails stroking both sides of his face, at the same instant
as he felt his cock gripped in the tight, wet heat of her pussy, sliding up and down his
shaft with the same slow rhythm shed started with her toes, and then continued with her
hand…the rhythm he realized could hold him on the edge of cumming indefinitely. "Im
so not in a hurry," Chelsea whispered into his ear, "I think I really deserve at least six
orgasms before I let you cum." And she smothered him with another of her dizzying,
sweet kisses, and she inhaled sharply and shuddered and exhaled with a moan, "Or
maybe ten." When Chelsea finally decided shed had enough and she let professor Lang
cum, he fell sideways on the couch, heaving and panting. He looked up toward his desk
and saw the framed picture of his wife, and he began to sob. He looked up at her,
wracked with profound guilt and shame. She stroked his hair with her long nails, and as
she turned to leave, she said, "Itll get easier every time we do it."
That night, Chelsea waited for her roommate Mary to get back. By midnight, Chelsea
grew impatient and called Marys cell, but it rang until her voicemail came on. Chelsea
hung up. She knew Mary was purposely not answering, and she knew it was because she
was in bed with Mark. Chelsea put on her long t-shirt and flipflops and went down to
Genevieves room and knocked on the door. Genevieves roommate, a hefty asian girl,
answered the door and said that Genevieve wasnt there. Chelsea then went downstairs
to Kyles room, and she was about to knock on the door, but instead she decided to first
try Genevieves cell. Chelsea heard it ring inside Kyles room. She pounded on the
door. After a few moments, it opened, and she went inside. Kyle stood there in his
shorts holding Genevieve, who was kneeling on the bed, with the top sheet wrapped
around her tiny body. "Please, Chelsea," Kyle begged softly, "Please let us have tonight
together, ok?"
"Nobody loves me!" Chelsea cried, tears cascading from her eyes and dripping onto her
toes. "We love you, Chelsea," Kyle said, "We just want to have sex, just the two of us,
just tonight…ok? Please?" "Somebody hold me!" Chelsea pleaded, and both Genevieve
and Kyle put their arms around Chelsea. "Ive never seen you like this," Kyle said, "Its
so not like you. Whats wrong?" "I hate sleeping alone," Chelsea sobbed, "After my
mother died, when I was eleven, my father used to sometimes stay out all night and leave
me alone, and I was terrified." "You dont seem like someone whos afraid of the boogie
man," Kyle said. Genevieve punched him in the arm. "Oww! What was that for?" he
said. "For being an insensitive pig," Genevieve said, "She was afraid her dad wouldnt
come back." Chelsea nodded, and Genevieve held her very close. "Wheres Mary?"
Kyle asked. "Marys…uh, forget it," Chelsea started. "What about Mary?" Kyle said.
"Nevermind, I shouldnt say anything," Chelsea said, then she reconsidered, "Well…ok, I
guess it isnt a secret. Marys with a new guy." Kyle became suddenly very quiet, as if
hed just been given some very bad news. "Oh my God!" Chelsea said, "You still have a
thing for her!" "No! No! I dont! I swear!" Kyle cried, looking furtively at Genevieve,
but it was too late. Genevieve was inexperienced and insecure, and she burst into tears.
Kyle sat down on the bed with his head in his hands. And Chelsea sat down, wedging
herself between them. She put her arms around them, and they put their arms around her,
and the three of them held each other close, silently, for several minutes. Finally,
Genevieve said very quietly to Chelsea, "Would you like me to come sleep in your
room?" Kyle immediately said, "Oh, man! I dont believe this!" and Genevieve reached
behind Chelsea and punched his arm again, "Youre so immature!" "Oww! Damn, you
hit hard for such a little girl!" he cried. "Stop it, stop fighting," Chelsea said, "I love both
of you." She paused for a moment and then she said excitedly, "I know! Lets have a
slumber party!" And she threw off her long t-shirt and lay back on the bed, in the nude.
She patted the mattress on either side of her and then opened her arms. Genevieve
crawled over her and settled down on her side, between Chelsea and the wall, with her
head on Chelseas shoulder. Reluctantly, Kyle tried to squeeze onto the small, single
bed. "Genevieve, you should really be in the middle, youre the smallest," Kyle said. "It
was my idea for a slumber party, so I get to be in the middle," Chelsea said petulantly.
Kyle lay on his side, grasping the bedpost with one hand and Chelseas waist with the
other, clinging uncomfortably to keep from rolling off onto the floor. "Arent you guys
going to kiss me goodnight?" Chelsea asked softly. Genevieve and Kyle kissed her on
opposite cheeks, and they closed their eyes. In a few moments, they both felt toenails
gently scraping their legs. "Im, like, totally horny. Who else wants to have sex?"
Chelsea whispered. Despite groans of protest from both sides, Chelseas inch-long
fingernails quickly found their way to Kyles hard dick, and Genevieves wet pussy.
Chelsea giggled, "I guess the answer is: both of you. Awesome!"
Thursday morning, Kyle and Genevieve both had early classes, and they couldnt help
but wake Chelsea up as they struggled to extricate themselves from her arms and legs.
Fortunately for them, as they both had early classes, Chelsea was not a morning person,
and she could muster only a halfhearted attempt to initiate more sex. Genevieve
managed to escape completely, and trotted out the door and back to her floor, but before
Kyle got into his shorts, Chelsea spied his morning wood and quickly had his cock in her
hand, stroking him with her long fingernails until he shot his load. She giggled and
licked her nails, and then she fell back to sleep. Kyle dragged her to her feet and helped
her into her t-shirt and ushered her out the door. Zombie-like, Chelsea shuffled toward
the stairwell. On the way she passed a lanky young man with a bushy mop of light-
brown hair, who said a nervous, "Hey." It was the guy shed slept with right after Kyle,
on her first night at college. "Do I know you?" she said,"You look kinda familiar."
"Bill?" he reminded her, "We…um….had sex last week?" Chelsea looked at him
blankly. "I cheated on my girlfriend with you!" he cried. Then he pulled up his t-shirt
and showed her a maze of red marks on his back and said, "You did that with your nails.
It was the most incredible sex I ever had." "Sorry," Chelsea said, squinting at him and
scratching her head, "Youve gotta give me more to go on than that," and she yawned
and kept shuffling past him, leaving him crushed and dumbfounded.
Back in her room, Chelsea flopped on the bed and was out like a light. She awoke
around two in the afternoon, to the sound of drawers opening and closing. As her eyes
started to focus, she saw Mary kneeling on the floor, her back to Chelsea. Mary was
folding some clothes into a suitcase. For a few moments, Chelsea just stared at Marys
ass, and her pink, wrinkled soles with little curled toes. She felt herself getting wet, and
silently slithered off the bed and embraced Mary and began kissing her neck. Mary
screamed and jumped. "I didnt mean to scare you," Chelsea whispered, grasping Marys
head with her long nails, and turning her face so she could kiss Marys lips. Mary put her
hand between their mouths, and Chelsea grasped it gently and sucked Marys fingers.
"Are you going somewhere?" Chelsea asked, still quite consumed with lust.
"I…Im…uh…taking a few things over to Marks," Mary said, nervously. "Oh my God.
Youre leaving me, arent you?!" Chelsea cried, and rivers of tears spurted from her eyes.
"No! Chelsea," Mary said, "Im still going to live here. I just wanted some things over
there so I can stay over if I want, when Marks roommate isnt there. If youre really my
BFF, youd be happy for me." "Tell me you still love me, and then Ill be happy,"
Chelsea whispered, looking deep into Marys eyes. "Of course I do!" Mary sighed, and
although she resisted with all her strength, Chelsea easily moved Marys hand aside and
smothered her with a hot, lingering kiss. Breaking free of Chelseas mouth momentarily,
Mary panted, "I have class in fifteen minutes." "I only need five," Chelsea assured her,
"Youll still make it." Marys clothes were quickly scattered on the floor, and over the
next hour, drowning her with sweet, passionate kisses, Chelsea used her exquisite long
fingernails to bring Mary to orgasm twice, but as she crested at the brink of a third,
Chelsea stopped and said, "Tell me you love me more than Mark." "Yes! I do! Yes!
Oh, God yeeeessssssss….," Mary screamed frantically. "Awesome!" Chelsea sighed, as
she allowed Mary to climax.
"Shit! I totally blew off my class!" Mary cried, looking at the time on her cellphone.
"Ooops, sorry. Whens your next one?" Chelsea asked. "In an hour," Mary replied.
"We have plenty of time, then," Chelsea winked. "I have to get this stuff packed," Mary
whined, "Mark offered to pick it up." "Ill help you pack," Chelsea offered, "But first
you have to…um, do a little something for me." And she guided Marys fingers to her
pussy. "Mmmmm, your nails are growing nicely," Chelsea moaned, as Mary used her
little bit of nails on Chelseas clit, and in a few minutes, Chelsea was sprawled back on
the bed, panting, in the afterglow of a thunderous orgasm. "I have to go," Mary said,
"Will you be here for a while? Mark should be stopping by soon." "Dont worry,"
Chelsea said sweetly, "Ill definitely be here when he comes."
Chelsea opened the door to Marks confident knock. "Hi, Im Chelsea," she said sweetly,
"You must be Mark." He wasnt overly tall, but he was handsome, and his tight t-shirt
revealed a muscular chest and large, powerful biceps. "Wow, Mary said you were hot,
but she didnt say you were a bodybuilder!" Chelsea gushed. "Oh…Im not really a
bodybuilder. Just mostly genetics, plus I worked all summer on construction to raise
money for school. Mary said I was hot?" Mark asked. "Mmm hmm," Chelsea said, "Did
she tell you I was hot?" Mark blushed, "She did, yeah." "So…." Chelsea said. "So…..?"
Mark asked, a little confused. "So, am I hot?" she giggled. Mark blushed again, "I plead
the fifth." He looked around and said, "Are those the suitcases?" "Id help you with
them," Chelsea said, "But you obviously have plenty of muscles." Mark blushed again.
"Another reason I wont help you with the suitcases is, Im, like totally freaked about
breaking my nails," Chelsea said. "Ah, yes…Mary said you were really into your nails,"
he said. "How about you?" Chelsea asked, "Are you into my nails?" Mark looked
around nervously, unsure of how to answer that, but Chelsea quickly said, "Marys letting
hers grow, you know." "Yeah, so she said," Mark answered, "Its cool. I dig nails on
chicks." "Really long ones? Like mine?" Chelsea asked, posing her hands in a slow,
graceful flourish. "T-theyre kinda s-scary," Mark admitted. "I was going for sexy,"
she said, pouting. "Oh, no! I didnt mean to…you dont scare…I mean, they dont scare
me," he said, flustered. "Thats good," Chelsea smiled, "So…um…could I maybe…"
"What?" Mark smiled. Chelsea covered her face with her hands. "Never mind," she said
shyly. "No, its ok. Ask me anything," he said. "Youre really sweet," Chelsea said,
"Im kind of shy around boys…and you make me feel really at ease." Mark smiled
warmly at her. "Thanks," he said, "Wow, I would never figure youd be shy around
boys…I mean a girl whos so…" "Hot?" Chelsea interjected. Mark blushed. "So, what
were you going to ask me?" he said. "Well…," Chelsea started, looking up at the ceiling,
and then back into Marks brown eyes, "I was just wondering if I could, like, feel your
muscles?" Mark joked, "Sure…but be careful. Girls have been known to faint."
"Promise to catch me if that happens," Chelsea smiled. I promise," he smiled.
Chelsea gently caressed Marks huge, solid bicep with the palm of her hand and fingers,
smiling at him and giggling. Then she softly curved her fingers and pressed her nails into
his muscle. "Oooooh!" she squeaked, fanning herself with her other hand. Mark blushed
and laughed. Chelsea came closer and grasped his other bicep with her other nails as
well, looking deep into his eyes and biting her lower lip. She watched his pupils dilate
while she gently scratched his biceps with her inch-long, natural-white fingernails. "Oh
my God," she whispered, "This is, like, sooooo hot. Dont you think its hot, Mark?"
She looked down, drawing his gaze with her. They both noticed that his cut-off jeans had
a pronounced bulge, but before he could react and step back, she took his attention by
wiggling her toes and asking "Do you like my pedicure? I do it myself." Mark
stammered, "Uh…yeah, its…" "Hot?" Chelsea interjected. "Look, um…Mary…um,"
he babbled. "Did you see Marys pedicure? I did it for her," she said. "Oh…ah…," he
stammered. "My toenails are pretty long," Chelsea continued, "But were letting Marys
grow. Painted long toenails are really hot. Dont you think?" And she lifted one foot
and gently scraped his bare, hairy leg with her longish, red-painted toenails. She could
see Marks face flush, and beads of perspiration forming on his forehead, his nostrils
flaring with each breath as it came faster and faster. Chelsea brought her face to his
cheek, still gently scratching his biceps with her long fingernails. "Fuck me," she
whispered as her tender, wet lips deposited feather-soft kisses along his strong jaw line.
"W-what? N-no!" he protested. Chelsea rubbed her bare thigh against the raging hardon
straining to burst through his cut-off jeans, and she scraped her nails back up his
shoulders and up his muscular neck, and then down his face, and she whispered, "Please!
I want you soooo much! I want to feel you crush me with your huge muscles…" and she
licked inside his ear and continued whispering, "I want your giant, hard cock deep,
deeeeeeep inside me. Im dripping wet for you." "No…please…I cant…what about
Mary?" he gasped and panted. "Mary wont ever know, I promise," Chelsea purred. "I
couldnt face her if we did it," Mark sighed deeply, "Please stop what youre doing.
Please." "Ok," Chelsea sighed, and tears started streaming down her cheeks. "D-dont
cry!" Mark gasped, "Its not like I dont want to. I mean, I reaaaaaly want to. Its just
that…" "Will you kiss me?" Chelsea said, wrapping her arms around his neck, and
stroking him with her long nails, "Please? Just once, I promise." She felt Mark inhale,
and he turned his head slightly, closing his eyes. Nothing in his life could have prepared
him for Chelseas warm, wet lips, and deep, honey-sweet kiss, which, combined with the
gentle, persistent scratching of her exquisitely-long fingernails, compelled him almost
instantly to surrender to her, utterly and completely.
In the afterglow of the most mindblowing sex of his life, Chelsea lay against Mark, lazily
tracing patterns in the taut skin of his muscular chest with her long, beautiful nails. "I
dont think I can go back to Mary…not after you," Mark sighed. "You have to," Chelsea
said intently, "Marys my best friend, and if you hurt her, Ill never fuck you again." His
testosterone-soaked brain accepted that without questioning its absurdity, and he said,
"Ok. Whatever." He slipped into his clothes and bent to pick up the suitcases. Chelsea
put her hand on his arm. "Leave them," she said, "When Mary comes over tonight, tell
her you never came to get them, you forgot. Then tell her you realized that you care for
her deeply, but that you havent known each other that long, and you dont want to take
even the slightest chance of messing up a chance at a long-term relationship by rushing
into living together. Think you can remember all that?" "Yes," Mark said, obediently.
"Dont improvise!" she admonished him. "I wont" he said, as he walked out the door.
And she made him gasp by slowly scratching her nails down his muscular arm. Back
inside, Chelsea closed the door and leaned back against it, closing her eyes. "Awesome!"
she sighed.
That night of course, it was a disappointed Mary who came back to the room around
midnight and unpacked her belongings back into her drawers, and stashed her suitcases
back on the top bunk. But when she related to Chelsea what Mark had said, Mary said
she realized he was right, and that she respected him all the more for being the voice of
reason. "I feel totally lucky to have found such an amazing guy, after that cheating
weasel, Kyle," Mary said as she got undressed and climbed into bed next to Chelsea.
"Im sorry I almost moved out on you Chelsea," Mary said. "I forgive you," Chelsea said
sweetly, sucking on Marys large breasts and kissing her way down to her little mound.
Mary watched Chelsea part her labii with her long thumbnails and snake her tongue into
Marys wet pussy. Chelseas nostrils flared as she detected Marks scent, and she
ravished Mary with untamed lust. It was nearly three AM when a completely exhausted
Mary fell into a deep sleep. And Chelsea crept out into the hall, like a prowling cat, and
stopped in front of Genevieves door. She called her cell and heard it ring. "Chelsea?"
Genevieve said, barely awake. "Hi Genevieve," she said sweetly, "Come out and play."
The door opened, and Genevieve came out in the hall. "I missed you," Chelsea
whispered in her ear, licking it. "I miss you too," Genevieve said, "I wish we were
roommates." "Wanna go downstairs and wake up Kyle?" Chelsea asked. "I just got my
period," Genevieve sighed. "So?" Chelsea giggled, "Theyre Kyles sheets. Its his
problem" "Let me get my slippers," Genevieve smiled. "You look cute in your little
bare feet," Chelsea said, combing her inch-long nails through Genevieves silken knee-
length black hair. "I have something else for you," Genevieve said, and she disappeared
into her room for a moment and returned with a business card. "Sometimes you seem
like, underneath, youre like, kind of unhappy," she said to Chelsea, handing her the card,
"This guys a psychologist, and he has a lot of experience with young people like us."
"Im not crazy!" Chelsea said. "Me neither, but he helped me make it through high
school without killing myself." Chelsea looked at the card. "Dr. Bruce Cronin…," she
mused, then she handed the card back to Genevieve. "I dont think so, but thanks for
caring," she said. "Well, if you ever change your mind, Dr. Cronin is a great shrink,"
Genevieve said, then she giggled, "And hes kind of hot, for an old guy. Although it was
a little creepy the way he stared at my nails." Chelsea smiled, "Dont throw that card
away, ok?" "Hey, Chelsea?" Genevieve said as they walked to Kyles room, "What are
you doing for Thanksgiving break?" "I dunno. Prolly just hanging around here. My
dads never home so it doesnt pay to fly back," she said. "My folks live an hours drive
from here," Genevieve said, "Its just me, my folks, and my three married brothers. Why
dont you come spend the weekend with me?" "Oh, I dont know, Genevieve, it sounds
like your house will be pretty crowded," Chelsea said. "Oh, my brothers wives all go to
their own parents for Thanksgiving," Genevieve said. "Ok, Id love to come," Chelsea
said, and she quietly sighed to herself, "Awesome."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Part 2
SEX, LIES, AND AWESOME NAILS - Part 2
Dr. Bruce Cronin, PhD was a psychotherapist with a bustling private practice in a college
town. His wife Joan, still slim and vibrantly attractive, was an associate professor of art
history. Bruces daughter Brianna was a typical eighteen year old college freshman:
passionate, impulsive, and, much to her fathers continual anxiety, a card-carrying
member of the boyfriend-of-the-month-club. Finally, Bruces son Jeff was twenty-two, a
senior majoring in economics, and engaged to Paula, his long-time girlfriend. The
majority of Dr. Cronins patients were students, so treating substance addictions, eating
disorders, depression, relationship problems and stress syndromes was the mainstay of
his practice. Like many therapists, Bruce had originally gotten interested in psychology
due to personal issues of his own. He had a long-nail fetish that dated back to his
childhood. In fact, he had developed an instant infatuation with his future wife the first
time he laid eyes on her 1/2-inch long natural fingernails, back in his first year of
graduate school, and fortunately she fell in love with him and they married just before he
got his PhD. Unfortunately, a year later, in her eighth month of pregnancy, unaware of
her husbands secret nail fetish, she did what many soon-to-be-mothers do: she cut off
her long nails. And again, unaware of her husbands fetish, she never grew them back.
Bruce, despite being a psychologist, couldnt bring himself to fess-up to her, nor could he
manipulate her into growing them back. Bruce loved his wife, and they had a good sex
life, but without her long nails, something was missing.
Throughout his practice, Dr. Bruce Cronin was occasionally faced with the situation of an
attractive, young female patient who happened to have long nails. His ethics were
impeccable, so he always maintained a professional conduct. Most of his female patients
didnt have the kind of nails that turned him on anyway, and many of them wore fakes,
which did not turn him on at all. Add to that, most of these young women had some very
serious issues which overshadowed all else.
Chelsea Larson was a twenty year old sophomore, about 56" and very attractive, with
long straight brown hair, and large hazel eyes. She had a perfectly-sculpted nose, full
lips, and the high cheekbones of a model. She was wearing a college sweatshirt and
shorts, her long, shapely legs were bare, and she wore white slip-on tennis shoes with no
socks. "Dr. Cronin? Im Chelsea," she said softly, hands clasped behind her back, head
bowed, avoiding eye contact with him. "Come in, please," he said, gesturing inside,
"Lets just relax and talk a little and get to know one another. And please, call me
Bruce." He sat down in his leather swivel-chair and motioned Chelsea toward the couch.
Chelsea sat down tentatively at the far end of the leather couch, her eyes still fixed
toward the floor. Sensing her reticence and wanting to put her more at ease, Bruce
swiveled his chair sideways so as not to stare in her direction. "Well Chelsea, would you
care to share why youve come today?" he asked. After a brief pause, she answered,
"Um, Doc…um, I mean, Bruce…its kinda embarassing." He said, "We feel
embarassment because we fear that we will be judged. But judging a patient is something
a therapist never does." Chelsea sighed, and said very quietly, "Ok. Thanks. Well, ok, I
have, like, this kind of thing." "Thing?" Bruce mused. Chelsea let out a nervous little
laugh and said, "I dont know…its, I guess you might call it… an obsession?" "Go on,"
Bruce said in his kindest manner, absent-mindenly beginning a little doodle on the corner
of his notepad. Suddenly she sort of blurted out, "Im like, totally obsessed with these."
Instinctively, Bruce turned to look at her, and what he saw sent a mind-numbing
adrenaline rush coursing through his entire body. Chelseas hands were outstretched, and
each of her ten fingers were tipped with straight, white, natural nails approximately an
inch long.
Dr. Bruce Cronin was normally very much in-control, but Chelsea had taken him
completely by surprise, and he felt himself getting hard. Every time he had to say the
word nails, and especially long nails, Bruce could feel his pulse increase and his
mouth get dry, and he was aware that his dick was responding as well. He thought about
just referring Chelsea to a colleague under some pretext, but she was too sweet, her nails
were too incredibly long and mesmerizing. Plus, he had never in his life encountered a
woman who felt she was obsessed with her own long nails, and his personal and
professional curiosity was overwhelming. Expertly he placed his notepad in his lap
slowly and rotated his chair and pretended to rifle though some papers on his desk. "Lots
of women are concerned with their personal appearance, including nails," he said, hoping
his voice wouldnt betray his state of arousal, "Ok, Chelsea, lets explore why you feel
you are obsessed with your nails." "Lots of things," she said. "Such as?" he asked.
"Well, for one thing, Im like totally paranoid about breaking them," she said. Bruce
smiled. "No, not like most women," she continued on, "I mean, like majorly paranoid. I
take like five minutes opening doors, and Ive never opened a soda can in my life."
"Okay, that might be borderline obsessive, but still…" Bruce said, "Im sensing theres
more to it than just that. How about it?" Chelsea bit her lower lip and drummed her
incredibly long fingernails on the glass-top end table. Bruce could feel his hardon tighten
inside his pants. She turned to him and with a sincere look, she said, "Yes, theres more.
Lots more." "Good, Chelsea, keep going with that," he encouraged her.
Chelsea took a deep breath and began, "Well, ok, first of all I cant remember ever in my
life not having long nails. I mean, ok, I didnt have them this amazingly long until I was
like maybe twelve or thirteen, but at least going back to when I was maybe four or five
they were always at least like this," she said, placing her right index fingernail against her
left, indicating about 1/4 inch of length. "Well, thats a little unusual I suppose," Bruce
said, "Tell me, what did your parents and teachers say about it?" "My teachers? They
used to send notes home all the time asking my parents to cut them," Chelsea said,
"Finally I got suspended and they didnt want to let me back in school." "What happened
then?" Bruce asked. "My folks put me in a private school where they didnt care about
stuff like long nails," she answered. "Rather than make you cut your nails they paid for
private school?" Bruce questioned, "Can you explain that?" "Well, my mom was against
it but my dad was adamant," she said. "Your father must have had a very strong sense of
the need for you to freely express your individuality," Bruce observed. "No, it was just
that he…um, liked my long nails," she said, "I mean, he really liked them. When I was
little I used to kinda scratch his hairy arms and it would give him goosebumps.
Sometimes I would touch his face with them and hed start breathing really hard." "Did
your mother ever wear long nails?" Bruce asked. "Not that I can remember," Chelsea
said, "But I know Daddy wished she did." "Did you discuss it?" Bruce questioned. "No.
Mom got sick and she died when I was eleven, and Daddy didnt like talking about her.
But when I was older I realized that getting touched with long nails aroused him," she
said. "Did that distance you from your father?" he enquired. "Oh, quite the contrary. I
could get him to agree to anything I wanted, just by stroking his face or neck or arms
with my long fingernails." "Chelsea, did your father ever…" he began, but she quickly
interrupted, "What? No! Never!"
Chelsea continued, "When I was a young teen, most of the boys thought my long nails
were gross, and most of the girls were jealous because their parents forbid them from
having long nails. So I was mostly an outcast. It was really a horrible, lonely time." Dr.
Bruce interrupted, "Did you ever think about cutting them?" Chelsea looked at him with
incredulousness on her face. "No, never," she said, "But I thought about killing myself
all the time." Bruce made a note of the fact shed considered suicide but not cutting her
nails, and asked her to continue, which she did, "I didnt really have friends until high
school. By that time I was, like, totally hot, and guys didnt mind my freakishly long
nails, they were more interested in other parts of me, if you know what I mean." "Did
you become sexually active then?" Dr. Cronin asked. "Oh no, not till I was eighteen,"
Chelsea insisted. Bruce thought he heard a hint of irony in her voice but decided not to
pursue the subject further, given that this was their first session. But Chelsea continued,
"I found out lots of guys have a thing for my nails. Even some guys who say they dont
care about long nails, or even say dont like them, get like jello when I use them on them.
You know, scraping my long, sharp nails slowly up and down their bare arms. Raking
them softly down their faces. The sound the tips of my really long nails make when I
gently scratch their ears…" Bruce could see that her pupils were dilated, her lips were
plumper, and her breathing was faster, which he recognized as clear signs of her sexual
arousal. He also was keenly aware of his own sexual arousal, and it relieved him to see
that the hour was up. "That was very good for our first session," he said, "Well continue
next week." He led her to the door, and she reached for the knob, very daintily, very
cautiously so as not to catch any of her extremely long nails. "Here," Bruce said, gently
removing her hand from the doorknob, and opening the door for her. He looked at her
small hand, resting in his large one. He felt the tips of her inch-long nails brush across
his palm as she slowly withdrew her fingers. His dick was rock hard and he stifled a
gasp. Chelsea tossed her head, and Bruce inhaled the fresh scent of her shampoo as her
long brown hair whisked past his nose. She beamed enthusiastically and said, "I cant
wait for our next session." And as she started off she gently let her nails glide down the
hollow wood door, and without turning around she said, "How about you?" and she
walked off without waiting for a reply.
Bruce had three more patients in rapid succession without a minutes break that day, and
he had everything he could do to focus. Chelsea filled his head. As soon as his last
patient left, Bruce locked the door and lay down on the couch and jerked off while
thinking about Chelsea and her nails. It was the first time hed ever done that to a fantasy
of a patient, and when he was done, he sat with his head in his hands and he knew the
right thing, the ethical if not the sane thing for him do to would be refer Chelsea out of
his practice, but he also realized he didnt have the willpower to do it.
At her next appointment, the receptionist showed Chelsea into the room while Bruce was
washing up. "Be with you in a minute," he shouted from the lavatory. "Ok," she said.
When Bruce emerged, Chelsea was sitting demurely with her hands in her lap clasped
between her thighs. She smiled brightly at him and gushed, "I cut my nails! Are you a
great shrink or what!" Bruces heart did a somersault, he was torn between relief and
devastation. Bruce tried his best to maintain a professional attitude. After all, if it was an
obsession she was trying to cure, cutting her nails would be a breakthrough event.
"Really? You cut them?" he asked, opening his arms to her. "No, not really," Chelsea
grinned, bringing her hands out from their hiding place and resting them gently on
Bruces arms so he could see her ten amazing long nails, and she laughed, "Youre not
that great a shrink." As Bruce sat back into his chair, Chelseas nails glided down his
arms. By her expression he couldnt tell for certain whether it was accidental and
innocent, but regardless, by the time he sat down his dick was already hard. "Last time,
you were starting to talk about your relationships with men," Bruce began. "No, not
relationships," Chelsea corrected him, "Teasing. And seduction. I was talking about
using my long nails to drive guys wild. Would you like to hear more?" "Do you have a
boyfriend?" Bruce asked. "No," she said. "How does that make you feel?" he asked her.
"How does it make you feel?" she asked him back, and before he could reply she asked,
"Are you married, Dr. Cronin?" "Yes," he replied. There was a moment of silence.
"Arent you going to ask me how that makes me feel?" Chelsea asked, with a glimmer in
her eye. "Have you ever been in love?" Bruce asked. "Define in love," Chelsea said.
"Id rather hear your definition," he countered. Chelsea took a diamond-coated file from
her daypack and began to lightly shape the tips of her inch-long nails. "Does it bother
you if I do this while we talk?" she asked the doctor. "N-no, n-n-not at all," he
stammered. "So," Chelsea started, "Have you ever cheated on your wife?" "No, I…" he
began, but suddenly stopped. Never before had a patient been able to knock him off
guard like that.
Bruce pulled himself up in his chair. "Chelsea, were here to discuss you, not me," he
scolded her softly. "Im sorry, daddy," she answered, looking up at him with pretend-
remorse, blinking her doe-eyes, and placing her inch-long clear index fingernail against
her pouting lips. Bruce made a note of her reaction but moved on. "Whats the longest
youve ever been in a relationship with a guy?" he asked. Chelsea looked up at the
ceiling. "Hmm, let me think," she said, "Ten years?" Bruce knew she was only twenty
and was somewhat surprised at the impossiblity. He then asked, "Ok, what was his
name?" Chelsea laughed, "Daddy."
Chelsea blew some filing dust from her long, clear ring fingernail and smiled at Bruce.
This case was getting very interesting, Bruce thought to himself. He asked Chelsea, "Do
you think you would have teased your father if you hadnt been sure it was safe, that he
would never respond?" "I dunno," she said meekly. Bruce asked, "Chelsea, what do you
think wouldve happened if your father had lost his self-control?" "I guess I would be in
therapy," she said sarcastically. While Bruce wrote furiously he decided to push further,
"Is that why youve been flirting with me? Because you feel safe that as your therapist I
wont respond?" Suddenly he felt the sensation of sharpness against his thighs, through
his pants, and the sound of freshly-filed fingernails against fabric. He dropped his
notepad and gasped at Chelseas long-nailed hands resting near his crotch, her inch-long
thumbnails brushing the obvious bulge in his pants. He grabbed her wrists and lifted her
hands off him. She looked down at the huge tent in his pants. "It sure looks to me like
you are responding," Chelsea said with a wry smile, "Do I look scared?" Bruce looked
deep into her hazel eyes with their huge, dilated pupils. Chelsea put one bare knee
between his legs against his hardon, and she leaned forward parting her lips. "Please
stop, Chelsea," he croaked. He was still holding her wrists, and Chelsea slowly waved
her long-nailed fingers. "Imagine how amazing these would feel stroking your face while
we kiss," she whispered, her lips almost upon his. He couldnt move his head even a
tiny bit without his lips touching hers. With her weight pressing him back against the
swivel-chairs spring, Bruce couldnt push her away gently, and he didnt want to throw
her off. "Please, Chelsea, you dont want to do this," he said. "Oh but I do," she
whispered, "And so do you. You want to feel my nails on your face, to hear the sound of
long fingernails scraping against your skin. All you have to do is relax." She felt
Bruces hands lighten their grip on her wrists, and gently she placed her palms against his
face, slowly curving her fingers so that the tips of her straight, inch-long nails lightly
touched him. Bruces eyes closed and he exhaled. "Will you look at that!" Chelsea said
suddenly, startling him. He opened his eyes, and Chelsea was looking at her Cartier
watch. "Our hour is up!" she said, backing off. Bruce just sat there awkwardly, watching
her beautiful legs as Chelsea bent in front of him to pick up her daypack. "See you next
week!" she said sweetly. Bruce watched her sexy hips and ass sway as she walked to the
door. She reached for the knob but then she stopped and turned to him and said, "Get it
for me, will you? My nails, you know…" Bruce hopped to his feet and quickly opened
the door for her.
Dr. Bruce Cronins next patient was waiting, but he told his receptionist to give him five
minutes. Bruce ran to his private bathroom where he jerked himself off. But even
afterward, he kept thinking about Chelsea and her long nails. That night he and his wife
had the most vigorous sex theyd had in ages, but of course Bruce was fantasizing that he
was with Chelsea. Afterward he felt bitter and frustrated by the fact that he wasnt
feeling the sensation of nails on his skin, because his wife had none. Being a
psychologist, Bruce knew that Chelsea had begun to enable his secret fetish to overcome
the control he had exercised over it all his life, and he knew it would only get worse until
his life would implode unless he did something to prevent it.
After all, Bruce told himself, he was a trained professional. Even with her nails, there
was no reason a twenty year old college student should be able to get the better of him.
He understood that Chelsea had a need to control, so he wore a dark suit and tie for
Chelseas next appointment, to subliminally give himself a power advantage. He sat
upright in his chair, psyching himself to exude confidence and professionalism. He was
ready for his receptionist to bring Chelsea into the room. Game face. Bring it on!
Chelsea had previously been prompt, but Bruce watched the clock tick five minutes past
the appointed time. He slouched in his chair and leaned over to the intercom to call his
receptionist, but there was no answer. There was a knock on the door, and Bruce
grumbled to himself as he walked over to open it. "Sorry Im late," Chelsea said, "I
couldnt decide what to wear." Instead of a sweatshirt and shorts, Chelsea had on a thin
silk dress that clung to her small body and revealed all of her gentle, sexy curves. Her
long legs were still bare, but in place of her tennis shoes she wore pointed-toe shoes with
4 inch heels. Her long brown hair was full and very slightly waved at the ends, and she
was wearing just enough makeup to make her look sultry and sexy without detracting
from her natural beauty. A whiff of expensive, exotic perfume caught Bruces attention
as she edged alongside him in the doorway. As she stepped past him into the room,
Chelsea fondled Bruces lapels and slowly scraped her inch-long fingernails down the
front of his suit jacket. "I love the sound of my nails on fine wool," she said softly,
"Dont you?" Chelsea took hold of the inner end of Bruces silk tie with one hand, and
she gently straightened and tightened the knot with her other. "I think a guy looks really
hot in a suit," she said in a half-whisper. Then she stroked her fingers down around the
outside of his tie , lifted the end, and put it between her teeth. As if it were a leash, she
led him into the room, allowing her long nails to click and scrape the hollow wood door
as she slowly closed it behind them. "Awww. I got my saliva all over your tie," Chelsea
said, "But I needed something of yours in my mouth." Then she went over to the couch
and sat down with her legs together, clasping her knees with her intertwined long-nailed
fingers.
"You look very uncomfortable," Dr. Cronin observed. "Short dresses arent made for
sitting in," Chelsea laughed. "I assure you Im not interested in seeing your panties,"
Bruce said in his most professional demeanor. "Thats good," she laughed, "Cause Im
not wearing any." As she said so, she began to lift one knee, and Bruce felt the
adrenaline-rush of panic, but Chelsea kept her legs together modestly as she crossed
them. "Ok, lets get to matters," Dr. Cronin said, "Chelsea, where did we leave off last
time?" "Um…I think you were about to cum," she smiled. Bruce felt himself flush.
"Lets talk more about your relationships with men. Every time I bring the subject up
you do something to distract me. Did you realize that? So this time, no changing the
subject, ok?" "Ok," Chelsea agreed, "Mind if I stretch out?" "Of course not, go right
ahead," Dr. Cronin said. Chelsea swung her legs up on the couch. She watched her
therapists face as her sharp 4 inch heels indented the leather and then she slowly dangled
her shoes and let them drop to the floor. "High heels make my feet sooooo sore," she
pouted. Chelsea rubbed her feet one by one up and down the opposite leg. Bruce stared
at her feet, which were obviously well cared-for and looked heavenly soft. Her toes were
long and slender. Her toenails were also rather long, her big toe nails maybe 1/4 inch
past the ends of her toes, and the rest maybe 1/8 inch, although it was hard for him to tell
exactly because they were all freshly-painted a bright, shiny red. Bruce became aware
that he was hard as a rock, and he rolled his chair up past the end of the couch where
Chelsea rested her head. "Are you looking down my dress at my boobs?" she said. "Of
course not," he responded. "Why not? Whats wrong with them?" she asked.
"Nothing!" he said defensively. "So you were looking," she smiled. Bruce rolled his
chair quickly down to the other end of the couch. "Oh, so now youre looking up my
dress?" she said. Bruce started to say something, but Chelsea laughed, "Relax, Bruce, I
was only joking." Bruce gave a sigh of relief, and began, "Ok, so back to your
relationships with men." But instead, Chelsea said, "Its my feet you really want to look
at, isnt it Bruce. They make you horny, dont they?" And she turned and rested her feet
on his knee and squeezed the fabric of his pants with her toes. "Go ahead, touch them,"
she said. "Chelsea, I…" Bruce started. "If you want me to talk about the guys in my life
you have to massage my feet," she offered. His hands trembling slightly, Bruce brushed
his fingertips over her insteps. Chelsea laughed, "Oh, come on! Youre gonna have to
do better than that!" And she rested her heels on his thighs and bent forward and grasped
his hands in hers and brought his hands to her feet, positioning his thumbs against her
soles just below her toes. He could see how far her toenails were past the ends of her
toes, and he got hard as a rock. Bruce had always known he had a foot-fetish, but this
was the first time that he saw long toenails on a woman that were beautiful, not gross.
"Dont worry, Im not even the slightest bit ticklish. You can do whatever you want to
my feet, as much as you want," she told him, "And I know how much you want."
Bruce began to massage Chelseas feet and she lay back against the couch and closed her
eyes. "Ok, no more excuses," he said, "About those relationships…" Seeing her eyes
were closed, Bruce took a good look at Chelseas feet. Up-close they were as perfect as
theyd looked from a distance. And they were even softer than he could have imagined,
plus they were just slightly damp, and gave off just the slightest scent. It was not your
typical foot-stink, it was a pungent but sweet aroma, and it made Bruce even more
turned-on than he already was. "Do you like my pedicure?" Chelsea asked. "Were going
to talk about your sexuality now," Bruce said. "I do it myself," she said. "Ok, thats fine
and natural, but Im talking about, with men," he said. "I meant, I do my pedicure
myself," Chelsea grinned. "Please, Chelsea, focus," he implored her. "Fine. Where
should I start? My first boyfriend?" she said. "How about your last boyfriend?" Bruce
said. "Ok, what do you want to know?" she asked. "Anything and everything youd like
to share," he said. "You know what Id like to share with you," she quipped, and he
looked at her sternly. "Oh, ok. His name was Mark, he was a philosophy major," she
began. "Was that what attracted you to him?" Bruce asked. She laughed, "God no. That
was totally boring. But, he was hairy. I mean, really hairy, like an ape or something.
Hairy guys make me so hot. I just love being totally naked, rubbing my body and
running my hands and feet through mounds of body hair" "What about the relationship
part? The feelings…places you went, things you did together," Bruce asked. "Ordinary
things, dinner, movies…oooh, I love getting a guy all hot in a movie. My favorite thing
is making a guy cum in his pants in public. I used to do that to Mark everywhere.
Movies, restaurants. I especially liked doing it in class. Thats where Mark and I met. I
sat next to him in a class and made him cum in his pants, then he asked me out. Cool,
huh?" "Who ended the relationship?" Bruce asked. Chelsea laughed, "I did of course."
"Why?" he asked. "He broke up with his girlfriend," she said. That was an interesting
revelation, and Bruce made a mental note to be sure and write it down when his hands
were free. Excited that he was finally gaining some insight into Chelseas psychological
makeup, Bruce unconsciously began to knead her sexy feet and toes harder and faster.
"Oh God, youre getting me horny as hell," she groaned. Bruce stopped, but she gasped,
"No! Dont stop! God damn it, dont stop!" and she leaned forward and grabbed his
hands and squeezed them with her nails. Immediately he resumed massaging her
beautiful feet. Chelsea leaned back and continued speaking, "Seeing the look on a guys
face when hes trying with all his willpower not to cheat on his wife or girlfriend just
makes me incredibly hot. But the best look is when he realizes he cant resist anymore,
the moment we both know that hes surrendering, that hes completely in my control, the
first time he gives in to me completely…that first, mind-blowing time he cums while Im
stroking him with my long nails…its….its….oh…oh…ohhhhhhhhhh
mmmmmyyyyyyy ggggodddddd…" "Chelsea!" Bruce said with alarm. "Suck
them….suck my toes," she panted. Bruce stammered something, and she cried, "Suck
my toes now god dammit!" and a startled Bruce obeyed as if compelled, wrapping his
mouth around the toes of her left foot and sucking for all he was worth, darting his tongue
between her toes and licking the sharp edges of her toenails. In a moment Chelsea
exhaled and relaxed. She smiled at Bruce and wiggled her toes inside his mouth. "I
came," she announced. Bruce was mortified. Here he was, a married man and licensed
psychologist, who had just brought a twenty year old female patient to orgasm by sucking
her toes! Suddenly he felt something against the erection in his pants, and looked down
to see Chelseas right foot in his lap, her toes grabbing and kneading his dick through his
pants. "Noooo," he said weakly, removing her toes from his mouth. But she just smiled
and kept it up, now using both feet. Bruce tried to will his hands to pull her feet away but
it was no use. The sight of her long, red painted toenails clutching the huge tent between
his legs, and the feeling of her strong toes holding and working his dick through the
fabric, took away all his strength to resist. He felt his balls tighten and the beginning of
his climax. "Stop?" he said half-heartedly, in a hoarse whisper. "Well, ok, if you insist,"
Chelsea said pouting, pulling her feet back suddenly, "Times up again anyway. You
have to get to your next patient." And Chelsea quickly put her shoes on and picked up
her purse. Bruce was still in his chair, sweating and panting. Chelsea walked to the door.
"Come open the door for me, ok? We wouldnt want me to break one of my beauties,
now would we?" she said, finger-waving her inch-long nails seductively at Bruce, who
dutifully stumbled to the door and opened it for her.
Chelsea was in Bruces head 24/7, and it was affecting every facet of his life,
professional and personal. From the moment she left his office he was consumed with
desire to see her again, but at the same time wracked with guilt and self-doubt. His wife
sensed that something was off, but he insisted it was just work-related stress and told her
not to worry about it. But the image of Chelsea and her nails haunted him night and day.
Not even the sight of other women with long nails could lessen the hold Chelsea had on
him. Never in his life had his fetish tortured him to this extent. He considered seeking
the help of a colleague, but even though he knew whatever he said would be kept
confidential, Bruce was just too ashamed and embarassed to discuss it with anyone. He
resolved to handle it himself. After all, he had spent two decades as a practicing
psychologist.
Dr. Cronin decided that for Chelseas next session, he would sit behind his desk. He felt
that it would send a subliminal message to Chelsea that he was off-limits. So when his
receptionists voice came over the intercom announcing Chelseas arrival, Bruce quickly
took his chair behind his large, glass-topped wood desk and said to send her in. Chelsea
wore a shiny black nylon micro-mini skirt and a yellow tube top, which left her middle
bare. Bruce noticed that her breasts, while not exactly big, were very firm because even
with no bra they were perky and didnt bounce when she walked. And her stomach was
smooth and flat, with a little diamond stud in her navel. His gaze travelled down her
long, perfect legs to her feet which were in flipflops. At that very moment Chelsea also
looked down at her feet and said, "Do you like my toes?" She stood in front of Bruces
desk and put one foot up on the edge. She rotated her ankle slowly and waved her toes
and said, "I did them in clear polish today. Just for you. So you can see how long my
toenails are." Bruce could feel his erection growing, but he cleared his throat and asked
Chelsea to please have a seat. She stretched both hands forward and stroked her inch-
long fingernails slowly from her ankle up to her thigh, staring straight into Bruces eyes.
"Ok," she said, smiling. And she raised her leg off his desk in a slow arc, giving him a
long peek under her micro-mini skirt. She wasnt wearing panties. Chelsea bent forward
and rested her palms on the desk. "Arent you coming with me?" she asked. Bruce
couldnt help but stare at her cleavage, and right before his eyes he saw the contour of her
nipples grow and harden under her thin tube top. "I think it will be more, uh, productive
if I sit here," he said, feeling himself flush. Chelsea clicked her nails on the glass
desktop. "Suit yourself," she said blandly, then she turned and walked to the couch, her
sexy hips and ass swaying, and a tatto of a black flower…a black dahlia…in the small of
her back.
"Last time, we talked about your relationship with Mark," Dr. Cronin began, "Lets go
back, to your previous relationship, the one before him." "Steve!" Chelsea said, "What
an asshole." "Go with that," Bruce said, "What made him an asshole?" "Well, at first we
had a great thing," she said, "It was like, sex, sex and more sex. His car, my car, my
dorm. The best was when we did it at his house, when his wife had to work late. That
was the most amazing time." "Why was that?" Bruce asked. "Well, she was supposed to
get home by eleven, and it was like a quarter-to and Steve was like all nervous and trying
to get me to get dressed…he was totally begging me to leave. Only, I made him do it one
more time. He tried to resist me but he couldnt. I, like, came sooooo hard that time. It
was awesome." "I see," Bruce said, feeling rather smug that he was recognizing a pattern
to her behavior, "And how did your relationship with Steve end? Did he leave his wife?"
"No, the prick asked me to cut my fingernails," Chelsea laughed, "Like I would ever!"
"He didnt like long nails?" Bruce asked. "Oh, he loved them," she said, leaning
forward and staring into Bruces eyes, "Almost as much as you do." Bruce coughed.
"Why did he want you to cut them?" he asked. Chelsea said, "Steve said he was afraid
his wife would see the red marks on his back. I mean, I never really, like, scratched him
hard or anything. He, like, soooo needed to lighten up." Chelsea sat back on the couch
with her long-nailed fingers stretched out against the cushions and she pulled her feet out
of her flipflops and brought them up onto the seat. Her legs were slightly apart, giving
Bruce another look up her micro-mini skirt at her bikini-waxed pussy. "This is getting
me totally horny," Chelsea announced, "I, like, soooo need to cum." "We have a little
more time yet," Bruce said, "Lets talk more about why you seem to prefer men who are
in other relationships." Chelsea dug through her purse and found a little, pink plastic
bullet-shaped cylinder a little bigger than a lipstick case. She gave it a twist and it began
to buzz. Bruce gaped in amazement as Chelsea lifted the edge of her micro-mini skirt
with one long fingernail, and began applying the vibrator to her pussy. "Dont watch if it
bothers you," she said. "Would you rather I didnt watch?" Bruce asked, in typical
therapist manner. "Oh no, I totally want you to watch," Chelsea said, beginning to fondle
her breasts with her other hand. She slipped her hand inside her tube top and quickly
freed her breasts. Bruce watched her fingers, with their straight, clear, inch-long nails, as
she expertly fondled her erect nipples, and he was unable to look away. "I know my nails
turn you on more than my boobs do," she said softly, "Its ok." She was curling and
uncurling her toes, and she began to claw the leather couch with her toenails. Bruces
hardon pressed painfully against his pants, and he quickly reached down to adjust some
slack in the fabric. "Do you want to jerk off?" Chelsea asked him. Bruce quickly
brought his hands up on the desk. "Its ok," she said, "I wont tell." "Chelsea, I…" he
started. "I know you jerk off when I leave your office each time," she told him, "But its
ok if you want to do it while Im here. Hey, lets try to cum at the same time!" Bruce
started to say something, but he could see Chelseas head roll back and her eyes close,
and she started moaning softly. She was completely absorbed in pleasuring herself, and
Bruce knew it was pointless to try to say or do anything at that point. He would just have
to wait until she orgasmed. Bruce didnt realize how absorbed he was becoming
watching Chelsea, until he heard the intercom. His receptionist was asking him if
everything was ok, if he needed her, and suddenly he realized that Chelsea had become
very loud, and was getting louder by the second. Bruce told his receptionist that Chelsea
was being highly emotional, but he then quickly came around from behind his desk and
managed to grab a throw-pillow from the couch and put it over Chelseas mouth just in
time to muffle a series of what would otherwise have been ear splitting screams of sexual
release. When he felt her go limp and quiet, Bruce took the pillow away from her face.
"Hi," she said, still out of breath, and she leaned her body against him.
"All right Chelsea, youre never going to do that in my office again, ok?" Dr. Cronin said
firmly. "Ok Daddy," Chelsea pouted, and she gently stroked the back of Bruces hands
with her fingernails. She heard him inhale sharply and watched his pupils dilate, and
instantly her arms were around his neck. Bruce reached to take her arms away but before
he could, her warm, soft, wet lips covered his, and her tongue snaked deep inside his
mouth. Bruce felt like he was sinking slowly into a pool of warm honey, robbed of all his
strength and willpower. As she kissed him she brushed his face with her long fingernails
as if she were an artist painting a masterpiece. Each stroke of her perfectly straight, inch-
long natural nails made Bruces heart pound harder and his breath come in ragged gasps.
Chelseas long, bare legs wrapped around Bruces waist, clutching the fabric of his pants
in her toes, trying to pull them down. Frustrated, she whined into their kiss. Some force
far beyond his control compelled Bruces hands to undo his belt and shove his pants
down his thighs. As he did, Chelsea slipped her toes into the waist of his boxers and
forced them down, and as his rock-hard cock sprang free, she squealed joyfully into their
kiss. Bruce tried to guide his dick into her pussy, but Chelsea tightened her legs around
his waist and whispered, "Not yet." Chelsea began rubbing her clit along the outside of
his shaft in long strokes, returning her mouth to his for another long, deep kiss. She
slipped her hands between their bodies, grabbed Bruces buttoned shirt by the lapels, and
tore it open. Chelsea moaned loudly as her fingers slithered through Bruces thick mat of
chest hair, and he moaned when she raked her long fingernails gently over his nipples.
Chelsea slipped her arms around Bruces back and she sighed deeply as she rubbed her
tits against his hairy chest. Bruce could feel her hard nipples against his skin, and the
pressure of her clit riding against his cock shaft intensified. Chelsea gently scratched his
back in long, slow strokes with her incredible fingernails. Bruce was frantic with desire,
consumed with the burning need to get inside her and fuck her with all his might. He
tried to pull his hips away from hers but her legs were wrapped around him in an
incredibly strong vice grip. "I…have….to…fuck….you," he panted between momentary
releases from her dizzying kiss. "Pleeeaaassssse….mmmmmphhh" he begged, until her
thrashing tongue filled his mouth with its hot, wet fullness. Chelseas moans of pleasure
grew louder and faster, and her nails clutched and scored his back. Bruce knew she was
cumming. He reached down to shove his dick inside her but she grabbed his wrist and at
the same time released him from her legs and slid away from him. Chelsea leaned
against the couch with her legs together, heaving vocal sighs of relief. In a few moments
she was able to catch her breath, and she looked at Bruce, who was kneeling on the couch
with his dick still painfully erect, a pitiful look of utter confusion, frustration and
disappointment on his face. He moved toward her but she looked at her watch. "Never
mind the time!" Bruce pleaded, "You cant just…dont leave me like this!" He took her
by one hand and one ankle and brought her hand and foot toward his huge, unfulfilled
erection. "At least, you know….help me out here!" he begged. She quickly pulled free
from his grasp, but then she smiled and took his hands gently and she wrapped his own
fingers around his dick. "I want to watch while you jerk off," she smiled, "Here. Ill even
help." And she started rolling his balls slowly between her toes. After very little time her
toes felt his nutsack tighten, and Chelsea put her hands in front of his cock in time to
catch his load all over her fingers and long fingernails. Bruce continued to stroke his
cock until his erection subsided, watching Chelsea lick her long fingernails clean, one by
one, giggling and going, "Mmmmmmm, you taste good." She gently squeezed his now-
limp cock between her fingers and wiped the last drop onto her inch-long thumbnail and
sucked it slowly. Chelsea pulled her tube top over her breasts and stepped into her
flipflops, as Bruce hastily pulled up his pants. He walked her to the door and turned the
knob, so she wouldnt have to risk those unbelievable long nails that drove him wild.
"Isnt this where you tell me were making great progress?" she asked with a twinkle in
her eye. Bruce leaned in to kiss her, but Chelsea put her thumbs against his lips and
stroked his cheeks with her long fingernails, and as she slipped out through the partly-
opened door, Bruce was hard again.
Bruce locked the door and got a damp cloth from his private bathroom and cleaned up the
couch. Then he opened a window and sprayed some room deodorizer. He remembered
that the buttons were all ripped off his shirt, so he took it off and grabbed a new one from
his desk drawer, and he went back into bathroom to clean up before his next patient.
Before he put on the shirt, Bruce happened to catch a glimpse in the mirror. He was
shocked to see that his back looked like a big-city street map, a mass of long, red marks
going in various directions. He prayed they would fade away before bedtime, or else he
would have to be very clever to keep his wife from seeing them. He knew things were
starting to spin out of control, that his desire for Chelsea was taking over control of his
life. But he was powerless to stop it from happening. Powerless to resist the allure of
her nails.
After his last patient and before he left the office, Bruce checked his voicemail. The first
one was from his wife, Joan:"Bruce, Hi. Just wanted to remind you that we have that
family weekend up at the cottage, so if you can possibly get away as early as possible
tomorrow we might be able to get there before dark. Jeff is coming but Paula has a
paper due. Oh, and Brianna wants to ask you something, so call her, ok? Love you."
Bruce hit voice dial and said "Call Brianna". "Hey Dad!" she answered, seeing his
number on her caller ID, "Listen, I just wanted to make sure this is ok with you, because I
know its a family weekend, but would it be ok if I brought a friend?" There was a
momentary silence, and Brianna laughed, "Dad? Hey, dont worry, its not a guy!" "I
wasnt worried," Bruce said. "Right. Sure Dad," she said giggled, "Anyway, she
recently broke up with her boyfriend and shes from out of state, and I thought maybe
you…" "…Could give her some free therapy?" Bruce joked. Brianna laughed, "Well, not
exactly therapy. Just some of your fatherly-ness for a couple days. Youre such a great
Dad, and…" "Ok, ok, you can stop buttering me up, its fine if you bring your friend,"
Bruce said. Brianna said, "Thanks! I knew I could count on you. Besides, shes really
cute and maybe Jeff…" "Hey! Your brother is engaged!" Bruce reminded her. Brianna
said, "Yeah, I know. But I can still hope. Paula is such a bitch." Bruce scolded, "Now,
Brianna, I know Paula can be a little difficult, but shes going to be your sister-in-law so
you should make some effort to…" "…To be in the same room with her without wanting
to kill her?" Brianna said, "Ok, Ill try. Talk you you later Dad. Thanks. Love you."
There was a beep from Call Waiting. "Love you," Bruce said, and he flashed over.
"Hello?" he said. Bruce heard Chelseas seductive voice, which was even sexier on the
phone. "Hi Daddy," she said. "How did you get my personal cell number?" Bruce
asked. "That day I came in when you were in the bathroom? I was, like, looking at the
photo of your family on your desk, and…um, your iPhone happened to be next to it and,
like, voila! There was your number just staring me in the face!" she giggled. "What do
you want, Chelsea?" Bruce asked coldly. "You," she answered, "I want you." "We
really need to talk, Chelsea. Ill see you next week," he said. "Now that I tasted you I
cant wait all the way till next week," she said seductively. "Im afraid youll just have to
wait," Bruce said, and he hung up as he opened the door to leave. "Or not," Chelsea said.
There she was, standing outside his door, letting her cellphone slip from her long-nailed
fingers into her bag. "Chelsea, I have to go. And so do you," Bruce said, firmly but
kindly, looking into her eyes. Instantly, tears ran down her lovely cheeks. She leaned
against him, and reluctantly Bruce put his arms around her and patted her bare shoulders.
Her skin was incredibly soft, and her long, brown hair was incredibly silky. Chelsea
sniffled, "Dont hate me." "Chelsea, I dont hate you," he said. She looked up and wiped
her tears with the backs of her hands, giving Bruce a close-up palm-side view of her inch-
long nails, and he couldnt help but get hard. Chelsea slipped her hands between them
and rested them against his chest. "Sorry about your other shirt," she said. "Thats ok, I
always keep a spare on hand," he said. "Do you have another one?" she asked. Bruce
looked puzzled. Suddenly Chelsea ripped Bruces shirt open, and in a flash she lept up
and wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, and Bruce found
himself drowning in her warm-honey kiss. They stumbled back into his office, Bruce
managing to close and lock the door with one hand, then they tripped across the room and
fell together on the couch, a cyclone of flying clothes landing around the floor. Suddenly
Bruce stopped, his naked body poised on top of hers, realizing that he had only once brief
chance to save life as he knew and loved it. If he went ahead, nothing would ever be the
same again. "I-I cant!" he cried. Chelsea smiled. "What if I do this?" she said, scraping
her inch-long natural fingernails slowly down his face. "I just c-cant!" Bruce said,
shaking and almost in tears. "What about if I do this?" she said in a low, sexy half-
whisper, and dragged her nails gently down his neck to his shoulders, and down his arms
to his hands, at the same time scraping his thighs with her toenails and then wrapping her
legs around him. "Oh, God," Bruce croaked helplessly, as his throbbing cock quickly
sank deep into Chelseas hot, wet pussy.
Bruce decided to stop at the gym on his way home. He needed a workout, and a shower,
and mostly, time to think. He had failed his wife, and he had failed his profession. There
was no undoing what was done, but he knew that if he was to hold his life together, that
he couldnt allow it to happen again between him and Chelsea. Tomorrow he would do
what he should have from the very start, refer Chelsea to another therapist. He only
hoped that Chelsea would understand that she needed help and would go along. He
prayed she wouldnt have him brought up on charges before the professional ethics
committee, or he could surely lose his license, not to mention possibly go to jail, not to
mention an expensive civil lawsuit. And most certainly, divorce, plus the alienation of
his children. He hugged and kissed Joan when he got home, and told her how much he
loved her and was looking forward to the weekend away.
First thing the next morning Bruce asked his receptionist to get Chelsea on the phone.
"Her voicemail came right on, Doctor. I tried her dorm room and her roommate said
shes gone for the weekend. Shall I try her cell again?" the receptionist said. "No, thats
ok. It can wait till monday," Bruce said, "Send in my nine oclock please." Bruce had
cleared his afternoon of patients, so after his eleven oclock left at noon, Bruce tidied up
his desk and headed home to pick up Joan and Jeff and Brianna for the two hour drive up
to their cottage. On his way he remembered that Chelsea had called his cell, so he
figured her cell number would be on his incoming list. Sure enough, it was, and he
pushed redial. Her voicemail came on instantly: "Hi this is Chelsea. I cant pick up
the phone right now. You know me, Im probably doing my nails [giggles]. Please leave
a message. Bye." Bruce hung up.
Bruce pulled his SUV into his driveway and went into the house. "Hi Jeff," he said to his
son. Jeff looked mostly like his father, which Joan had always pretended to be upset
about. "Hey Dad," Jeff said. "Im sorry Paula couldnt make it," Bruce said. "Yeah, me
too," Jeff said, "Especially since Briannas bringing one of her gal-pals. I know she cant
stand Paula, and Im sure shed love it if we broke up." "Shell get over it," Bruce said.
Jeff laughed, "Yeah, shell have to. As if Brianna would have a friend that could take me
away from Paula." "Speaking of Brianna, where is she? We need to get going," Bruce
asked. "Oh, sorry, I forgot to tell you," Joan interjected, "Brianna and her friend didnt
have any classes today so they drove up to the cottage early this morning." "Oh, ok, well
then lets get on the road!" Bruce smiled. Jeff decided he would drive, so Bruce reclined
his seat and relaxed for the two hour ride. It was just what Bruce needed to put the
anxiety and stress out of his mind.
They pulled up to the cottage and parked behind Briannas Mini Cooper. Brianna came
outside when she heard their SUV, and like a typical daughter, ignored her mother and
brother and launched herself straight into her fathers embrace. Brianna looked very
much like Joan, a fact that every one of her boyfriends had mentioned sooner or later, and
which created a little bit of resentment on her part. Brianna slid off her father and went
to help her mother with the luggage. Bruce had turned to pick up his overnight bag when
he heard Joan say, "Brianna? You grew nails!" Bruce looked up with alarm, surprised to
see the same look mirrored on Jeffs face. "Yeah. Like em?" Brianna said, showing her
hands all around. Forever a tomboy, Brianna had never had so much as a sliver of nails
in her life. Now she had about 1/4 inch of fresh, white, square-edged nails on all her
fingers. Joan laughed, "Sure, whatever. I remember when I used to have long nails.
They were such a pain in the butt. Good thing your father wasnt one of those guys who
cares about what my nails look like. But I am curious, what made you decide to grow
nails after all these years?" "My friend talked me into it," she said, gesturing with her
head toward the cottage.
"Where is your friend?" Jeff asked. "Shes in taking a shower," Brianna teased, "Go on
in and see if she needs her back washed…" "Oh shut up you little runt!" Jeff said
chuckling, "Or Ill pick you up and throw you in the lake, like when we were kids." "Oh
no you wont," Brianna laughed, "Ive got sharp claws now, see." And she playfully
dragged her newly-grown long fingernails down his arm, leaving long white streaks.
"Stop, dont do that," Jeff snapped at her with sudden seriousness, and he walked quickly
into the cottage. "Jeez, whats his problem?" Brianna said to Bruce, scratching her head.
Bruce and Joan had bought the 3-bedroom cottage when Brianna was born, so they could
spend weekends there throughout the spring, summer and fall. With their careers and two
young children, it was less stressful than planning a two-week vacation somewhere.
They all had wonderful memories of hundreds of weekends throughout the years. Joan
purposely refrained from redecorating, because she wanted one place with continuity no
matter what else in their lives changed. Joan and Bruce put their bags in the master
bedroom while Jeff put his bag in the larger of the other two. Both bedrooms had bunk
beds so the kids could bring a friend each when they were growing up, and both rooms
still looked like childrens rooms, with stuffed animals and games and sports equipment
scattered throughout. They were separated by a common bathroom, and Jeff could hear
the shower running as he unpacked his belongings. "Im hungry," he announced, coming
out into the living room. "What else is new?" Joan said with a laugh, "Ill have dinner
ready in a few minutes." "Im kind of hungry myself," Bruce said, "Brianna, why dont
you see if your friend is about ready. Were all hungry and we dont want to eat without
her. Ill go out and start the grill." Brianna screamed in the direction of her bedroom,
"Hey, yo, my family is starving out here!" "Brianna!" her mother scolded. Brianna
shrugged, "What?" but she quietly went back to get her friend. Shortly, Brianna came
out the bedroom door and she reached back into the bedroom and pulled the young
woman into the doorway, barefoot, her head bowed, still drying her long hair with a
large, white towel. "This is my mom and my brother Jeff," Brianna said, "My dads
outside firing up the grill." Her friend tossed back her damp hair, raised her head and
smiled, just as Bruce came in the front door and Brianna said, "This is my new friend,
Chelsea Larson!"
"Its so nice to meet you!" Joan gushed, rushing to embrace her daughters friend.
Fortunately, neither she nor the others saw the mortified look on Bruces face, or that it
went from ashen-white to beet-red and back in a matter of seconds. "Come say hello to
Briannas friend Chelsea!" Joan said to Bruce. "Hi…uh, Chelsea is it? Like the song,
Chelsea Morning," Bruce said, with raised eyebrows he hoped only Chelsea would see
and understand. "Like, Chelsea, morning, noon and night. In fact, any time at all," she
smiled wickedly, "Im so pleased to finally meet you, Dr. Cronin. Brianna speaks so
highly of her…" and she very slighly emphasized the next word, "Daddy." "Jeff, say
hello to Chelsea!" Joan scolded. "Hey Chelsea," Jeff said, reaching out to shake her
hand. Chelsea took Jeffs hand with both of hers. "Hey," she said, tossing her hair back
and smiling at him. Jeff smiled back at her, but she could see that his eyes were darting
down frequently. Of course Chelsea noticed it too. And so did Bruce. As Chelsea
released Jeffs hand she gently scraped it with her inch-long fingernails. Chelsea looked
down at Jeffs crotch, where a prominent bulge in his pants was visible, and she glanced
up at him and winked. Jeff turned beet-red. "W-whats y-your major?" Jeff stuttered,
trying to save face and change the subject. "Sociology," Chelsea said, looking at Bruce,
"But Im beginning to get interested in genetics."
Joan handed Bruce a plate of raw hamburger patties and a bag of buns to take outside to
the grill. Brianna put her iPod earbuds in and flopped down on the couch, while Jeff
called his fiancee to let her know hed arrived safely. "You are sooo whipped," she
muttered. "I heard that," he shot back. Chelsea stood in the kitchen, eyeing Joan.
"Brianna said you two look alike," she said, pausing a second before saying, "But I didnt
expect you to be, like, this hot." Joan smiled and laughed an uneasy laugh. "I love the
smell of charcoal grilling," Chelsea said, "Do you mind if I go out and keep Dr. Cronin
company?" "No, of course not. Why would I mind?" Joan said, "Here, while you go,
please give him this apron so he doesnt get grease spatter all over his pants." Chelsea
reached for the apron Joan was holding. "Wow, those are some long nails you have
there!" Joan exclaimed. "Yeah, Im, like, totally obsessed with them," Chelsea said.
"All ten of them are perfect," Joan observed, "Dont they ever break?" Chelsea
answered, "Once in a while Ill chip the end of one. But Ive never really broken one off.
Theyre really strong, and plus, like I said, Im totally obsessed. So Im super careful."
"I used to have long nails," Joan said, "Not quite as long as yours, but almost. Mine
would break once in a while so Id cut them all off and start over." "Id, like, die before I
did that!" Chelsea exclaimed. Joan chuckled. "You have gorgeous hands," Chelsea said
taking Joans hand and running her fingertips slowly back and forth across Joans
clipped-short nails, and she looked deep into Joans eyes and smiled and said, "You
ought to let your nails grow long again. Like, really long." "Oh, I dont know…Ill think
about it," she said, being polite. Chelsea walked slowly to the door, stopped and smiled
quickly back over her shoulder at Joan, who quickly turned toward the sink and fumbled
with something.
"Hi," Chelsea said, startling Bruce while he was busy with the grill. Bruce turned around
and glared at her. "What?" she asked innocently. "What are you doing?" he said through
clenched teeth. "Whats wrong? Afraid Im going to rat you out?" she asked. "No," he
retorted defensively. "Well, you should be," she said. The color drained from Bruces
face. Chelsea laughed, "I wont…" Bruce was visibly relieved. "…As long as youre
really nice to me," she said, planting a quick kiss on his neck. "And as long as you let me
be really nice to you," she whispered, standing behind him and stroking her long
fingernails slowly up and down his arm, and peering around front to watch the bulge in
his pants grow. "Joan said you should wear this so you wouldnt mess your pants,"
Chelsea said, slipping the apron around Bruce and tying it behind him. "Too bad, youre
gonna mess them anyway," she laughed wickedly, slipping her arms under the apron and
around to the front of his waist. "Chelsea, no!" Bruce gasped, feeling her hands pressing
against his crotch. "Bruce, yes!" she mocked him, stroking his bulge with her nails.
"Not here!" he protested. "How about here, then?" she said, slipping her hands inside his
waist. He felt her warm, soft fingers wrap around his hard cock, and her inch-long nails
gently poking his nutsack. "My God, Chelsea, what if someone sees?" Bruce pleaded.
"Yeah, what if!" she said with lust in her voice as she stroked his shaft slowly. Suddenly
Brianna yelled from the house, "Hey, were starving! Dad?" "Hell be… cumming…in
a second," Chelsea yelled back, and she started stroking his cock faster and faster until
she heard him groan and felt him shoot his load. Chelsea took her hands out of Bruces
pants, and as he was trying to catch his breath she stared longingly at him while sucking
each of her fingers clean, having him watch as she withdrew each long nail slowly
through her luscious, full lips.
Bruce brought the cooked hamburgers into the cottage and excused himself while he
went in the back to wash up. He changed his underwear and put on a pair of shorts, so he
wouldnt have to explain why hed changed pants. They all sat down at the wood table
for dinner. Bruce sat next to Jeff, across from Joan, who was next to Chelsea, and then
Brianna. Jeff put a hamburger on an open bun and stared at the plate of sliced tomatos,
lettuce, and pickles in the middle of the table. "Oops, sorry," Joan said, "Brianna, would
you please get a serving fork?" "Picnic manners," Chelsea giggled, and she picked up a
slice of tomato between her thumbnail and pointer fingernail and placed it gracefully on
Jeffs burger. His eyes were like saucers. "Lettuce and pickles?" she asked Jeff sweetly.
Silently he nodded. "How about you, Dr. Cronin?" she asked politely. Bruce hesitated.
"Dont worry, my nails are, like, totally clean. See?" she said, innocently spreading her
hands in front of him. The rest of the meal was one long, excruciating nail show.
Chelsea held her burger gingerly, her nails sinking into the soft bun, with her inch-long
pinkie waving in the breeze. She giggled as she licked some mayonnaise from around
her mouth, and then she slowly sucked her long nails clean from the hamburger grease,
all the time alternating her stare between Bruce and Jeff, who were both trying with all
their might not to let lust and desire show on their faces to Joan and Brianna who were
sitting right across from them. When they finished eating the burgers, Joan got up to
clear the table and asked Brianna to help her with dessert, which were those ready-made
ice cream cones that come wrapped in paper. When the two women got up from the
table, Chelsea leaned back in her chair and stretched, and at the same time she stretched
her legs out under the table and accidentally touched one of Bruces and Jeffs bare legs
with her hot, damp bare feet. "Oops, sorry," she whispered, but then she grabbed their
leg hair playfully in her toes, scraping with her longish toenails, and then she stroked her
soles up and down a couple times, staring lustfully and biting her lower lip. Chelsea had
father and son rock-hard, yet neither man knew she was touching the other. Brianna
brought the ice cream cones to the table on a single plate, and Chelsea seized the
opportunity to use her long fingernails to slowly peel and unwrap them for Jeff and
Bruce, handing them across the table so the two men had a close-up view of her nails.
Brianna followed Chelseas lead, using her own new long nails to unwrap her cone.
"What are you staring at, dork?" she said to her brother, who turned red. Joan was
having some difficulty getting the wrapper started on her cone because her nails were so
short. "Here, let me get that for you," Chelsea said, placing her hand over Joans to hold
the cone steady, and slowly peeling back the paper with the long nails of her other hand,
making sure Bruce was watching. "Joans going to grow really long nails again,"
Chelsea announced, looking into Bruces eyes. "Wait, I never said that!" Joan protested,
"I said Id think about it." Chelsea put her hand next to her mouth and in a stage-whisper
aside to Bruce she said, "Dont listen to her. She will. Trust me." Then she turned to
Jeff and said, "Cant you just imagine getting a backscratch from your mom with nails
like mine?" as she splayed her fingers in front of him. Jeff blushed and stammered but
couldnt seem to form coherent words. "May I please have my hand back?" Joan said
softly. Chelsea smiled into Joans eyes and slowly released her gentle grip.
As soon as they finished their ice cream cones, Jeff and Bruce both went straight to the
screened-in porch and stretched out on the couches. They were both exhausted from
having been in a protracted state of sexual arousal all through dinner, although neither
one knew the other was in the same condition. Joan told the girls that she was very tired,
and asked them to excuse her while she took a bath and went to bed early. Chelsea and
Brianna took a twelve pack of beer and went out on the porch to join the men. Brianna
slapped her brother on the leg and told him to make room on the couch, and Bruce sat up
on his couch too. Brianna sat next to her Dad and Chelsea sat next to Jeff. "Wheres
Mom?" Bruce asked. "Taking a bath. Then shes going to bed," Brianna said. They all
talked of a bunch of different subjects, finishing the 12-pack as the evening went on. Jeff
cranked his neck and grunted, "Man, I must be stiff from the ride!" Chelsea got on her
knees on the couch and said, "Here, let me," as she leaned him forward and started
massaging his shoulders. Jeffs mild protest went ignored. When he was completely
relaxed, she suddenly started giving him a backscratch. Jeffs eyes opened suddenly and
there was a look of terror on his face, but he was powerless to stop her. Chelsea called
out to Brianna, "Why dont you give your Dad a backscratch?" Bruce quickly said, "Oh,
thats ok, Im good." "Oh, come on Dr. Cronin," Chelsea pleaded, with a hint of
treachery in her voice. "Yeah, Daddy. Pleassssse….," Brianna begged, "You have to let
me try out my new nails." And she began giving Bruce a backscratch. Jeff unknowingly
let out a little moan, and Brianna teased, "I bet someone wishes his fiancee had nails."
"Mmmmmmm….shut up, twirp…..mmmmmmm," Jeff groaned. At that, Brianna looked
over at her brother and her eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw the huge
tent in his pants. "Oh. My. God!" she cried, "You are a complete perv!" "Shit!" Jeff
cried, shrugging Chelsea off him and storming into the cottage. She looked at Chelsea
and laughed. Continuing to scratch her nails against Bruces shirt back, Brianna rested
her chin on his shoulder and said, "How did we get such a perv in our family?" At that
moment she noticed that Chelsea was staring down at the front of her Dad, but she looked
away suddenly when she saw that Brianna had noticed her. Instinctively, Brianna peered
down at her fathers lap, and saw a similar tent in his pants. "Ohmygod! Ohmygod!"
Brianna cried, and she jumped up. Bruce grabbed her arm and cried, "Brianna, wait," but
she pounded his arm with her fist and he released her. She stormed into the cottage,
repeating "Ohmygod!" as she ran to her bedroom and slammed the door.
Bruce started to get up to follow her, but Chelsea landed on the couch next to him. "Ill
talk to her," she said. "Oh, right. Thats just great," Bruce growled, "As if you havent
done enough damage already." "Me?" Chelsea said, "Youre the one with the telltale
dick. You, and your spawn. Im the only one who doesnt think youre a perv. Well,
you are a perv, but it totally rocks for me." And she put her hand on his bulge. Bruce
took her hand away but she stroked her nails down his arm and whispered, "Now, Bruce,
you know what I want, and we both know, in the end, I always get what I want." Chelsea
dragged her nails lightly down the side of his face, and she could hear his breathing get
fast and shallow. Bruce didnt protest when she undid his belt. "Thats better," she
whispered, extracting his erect cock from his underwear. Bruce settled back and resigned
himself to another handjob, when suddenly Chelsea, who was wearing nothing but an
oversized t-shirt, straddled his lap on her knees, and simultaneously drove her tongue
deep into his mouth and enveloped his cock with her hot, wet pussy. Bruce pulled her
mouth off of his and gasped, "Are you crazy?" "I am seeing a therapist," she laughed,
and she gave him another of her head-spinning kisses. "Someone will hear us!" he cried
quietly. "Oh God, say that again," she panted, "It gets me soooooo hot." Bruce put his
hands on Chelseas ass, feeling her hips churning. Chelsea pulled Bruces and her t-shirts
up under their arms and rubbed her sweaty breasts in his chest hair. Her long fingernails
seemed to be everywhere at once, as if she had four pairs of hands. "Ohhhhhhh,
yesssssss…..yesssssss….yesssssssssss…..Im cumming," she moaned in his ear. "Oh
fuck! Dont scream! Please dont scream!" Bruce pleaded. In desperation he grabbed
his rolled-up t-shirt and wound it around his hand and shoved it in her mouth, and as she
came she bit down with all her might. Bruce clenched his teeth so he wouldnt cry out
loud from the pain. In a few moments she relaxed her jaw, and he knew her orgasm was
over. "Shit!" he whispered, checking if her teeth had broken his skin, relieved that the t-
shirt had prevented it. "That was awesome," Chelsea panted, and she tossed her hair
back and gave him a long, tender, honey-sweet kiss as she continued riding his cock,
feeling his lust grow stronger and stronger. Just as she felt him about to cum she
whispered, "Did you hear that?! I think someones coming." Bruce gasped and turned his
head almost all the way around. Chelsea took his head in her long-nailed hands and
turned it back toward her. "Relax, it was just you …cumming," she giggled, reaching
behind and clutching her nails into his back, thrusting her hips into him hard but slow
until in a couple seconds he shot his load inside her and went limp and exhausted.
"Wanna go again?" she teased him. "Good night, Chelsea," he panted. "You better pray
that Joan doesnt wake up horny when you go inside," Chelsea said. "Good night,
Chelsea," he repeated. "Good night, Daddy," she said, kissing him softly on the forehead
before she went inside. Bruce put himself together the best he could, and tiptoed inside.
He took a quick shower to get the smell of sex off him, and went to bed. Fortunately,
Joan didnt wake up.
Chelsea knocked on Jeffs bedroom door. "Hey, its Chelsea," she said, "Can I come
in?" "No," Jeff shouted. "Why are you mad at me?" she said. "Im not mad at you," he
said, "I just cant face you." Chelsea said, "So I got you hard. Big deal. Well, actually I
dont know how big, cause you left in such a hurry I didnt have time to check it out."
"Oh that really puts me at ease" Jeff said. Chelsea turned the doorknob, and the door
wasnt locked. "Im coming in," she said. "What part of no dont you understand?" Jeff
said, annoyed. "All of it," Chelsea smiled. She closed the door behind her back and
walked over to where Jeff was sitting on the edge of his bottom bunk. He had to hunch
over to keep from hitting his head on the top bunk, and he looked pitiful and
uncomfortable. Chelsea sat next to him and reached inside her bag. "I thought this might
help," she said, pulling out an unopened pint of Jack Daniels. Jeff laughed nervously,
and watched as Chelsea slit the paper seal with her long thumbnail. She wondered if Jeff
was already hard, but she didnt want Jeff to catch her looking. She tried to twist the
bottle cap. "Its on really tight," she said. Jeff took the bottle from her and easily
unscrewed the cap. "Friends do shots," Chelsea smiled. "So were friends…just
friends," he said, "Look, I dont know what Briannas got cooked up…I mean, what she
put you up to, but…" "Brianna doesnt know Im here," Chelsea said quietly. Jeff looked
contrite and said, "Im sorry. Its just that I know she hates my fiancee and shes always
trying to fix me up with her friends." "Apology accepted," Chelsea said, "So are we
drinking or what?" Jeff took a swig of whiskey and wiped the edge of the bottle with his
hand, then handed it to Chelsea. She smiled and took the bottle gingerly, then took a
swig herself. "Feel better?" she said. Jeff took the bottle from her and started to wipe the
edge with his hand. "I dont have cooties," she said, looking into his eyes, "Anyway
theres like tons more germs on your hand than on my lips," she said, raising her chin
slightly and licking the tip of her tongue slowly all around her lips. Jeff took a swig and
handed it to her. Chelseas long nails clicked on the bottle. Keeping her eyes trained on
Jeffs, she ran her tongue around the mouth of the bottle and then enveloped it with her
lips while she took a swig. Chelsea half-turned her body toward his, putting her leg up
on the bed, and her foot brushed Jeffs knee. He looked down, and Chelsea wiggled her
beautiful toes with their red-polished longish toenails. "Like my pedicure?" she asked
him. "Uh….um…sure," he said. "You dont think my toenails are too long, do you?"
she asked innocently, lightly scraping them against his knee. "N-n-no," Jeff coughed.
"Does your girlfriend…"she started. "…Fiancee. Were engaged," he corrected her.
"Does your fiancee have sexy toes?" Chelsea asked. "Uh…I…I dont know," Jeff
stammered, "Im not really into feet." "You sooo are too into feet, Jeff. At least, youre
into mine. Totally," she said softly, "Dont be embarassed. Im the worlds best secret-
keeper." Jeff was blushing, or maybe it was partly the Jack Daniels on top of the four
beers hed had an hour earlier. He took another swig of whiskey and handed the bottle to
Chelsea. "Its just that I dont want you to get the wrong idea, like that Im trying to hit
on you," Jeff said. "I wont. But just so you know, if you were trying to hit on me,"
Chelsea smiled, "It would totally be working." And she watched Jeff fidget nervously as
she took a little sip of Jack Daniels and handed him the bottle. Jeff took a long drink and
coughed. "Chill out, Jeff. I dont bite…," Chelsea grinned, taking another little sip and
handing him back the bottle. She saw him relax his posture. "….although, I have been
known to scratch," she whispered, scraping his thigh slowly with her long fingernails.
Jeff straightened up suddenly, banging his head on the upper bunk. "Ohhh, I bet that
hurt!" she laughed. Jeff looked at her with a stupid grin and rubbed his head. She could
tell that he was pretty drunk. "Here, have some painkiller," she said, covering his hand
with hers and assisting the bottle to his lips. Her fingers were soft and warm, and he felt
the hard sharpness of her nails pressing into his hand. A little trickle of Jack Daniels
rolled down his chin, and Chelsea caught it with her finger and pressed against his lips,
gently inserting her inch-long nail into his mouth and pulling it back slowly, dragging it
against his tongue. Jeffs pupils dilated, and he breathed hard. Chelsea said, "These
kiddie bunk beds are, like, so cramped. Why dont we pull the mattress onto the floor?"
And they kneeled on the floor and pulled out the mattress and pillows, and Chelsea
stretched out on her side and offered the bottle to Jeff, who hadnt realized shed stopped
drinking several rounds back. Soon the bottle was empty. Chelsea got on her knees and
took off her oversized t-shirt. "Do you like my body? Am I hot?" she asked Jeff. Jeff
tried to sit up but his head started spinning and he fell back on the pillow, and Chelsea
came down on top of him. She held his face with her nails and brought her lips to his.
"N-no. I…I cant…," he protested weakly. "Its just a kiss," Chelsea said sweetly, "A
kiss isnt cheating." Jeff was too wasted to realize the absurdity of that statement, but in
addition Chelsea started gently scratching her nails down his cheeks, and in an instant
Jeff was drowning in her warm-honey kiss, the pivotal kiss that signified his surrender to
the irresistible allure of Chelsea and her long, sexy nails, just like his father before him
had surrendered. Jeff was too drunk, so Chelsea undressed him. When she saw that he
was hairy like his father, Chelseas eyes grew wide with lust, and she writhed on top of
him like he was a fur rug, rubbing herself against him and dragging her nails through his
thick mat of chest hair. Jeff heaved a deep sigh and moaned loudly each time he felt her
inch-long fingernails streak across his skin. His reaction to her nails was even stronger
than Bruces, or else maybe it was just because shed had a much easier time overcoming
Jeffs resistance. "Mmmmmmm, youve really got it bad," Chelsea moaned, and then
plunged her hot tongue into Jeffs mouth. Jeff tried to get on top of her but got dizzy.
Chelsea was afraid he might pass out before she could fuck him. She kneeled on top of
him with her hands on his hairy chest and sat back down, feeling his enormous, rock-hard
cock burrow up into her pussy. Halfway-drunk herself, Chelsea was wildly turned-on,
and she came quickly…and hard. And she came again, and again. Jeffs face was beet-
red, and his eyes looked like they were ready to pop out of their sockets. He reached for
Chelseas breasts and rolled her huge, hard nipples in his fingers. She gently scratched
the backs of his hands with her fingernails. Suddenly Jeff sat up and grabbed her waist
and flipped her on her back. He was on his knees and Chelseas hips were raised off the
ground, and she dug her toenails into his armpits as Jeff rammed his cock into her hard
and fast. She felt him start to shoot, and as he did he let out a long grunt and lurched
forward, flattening her against the mattress and driving his cock even deeper into her.
Chelseas fingernails scored his back as she orgasmed, in fact she orgasmed twice more
while Jeff lay spent and motionless inside her, before his erection finally went limp.
Only then, when she attempted to move him, did she realize that he had passed out cold.
Chelsea squeezed herself out from under Jeff and kissed the back of his neck. "Youd
better remember everything in the morning," she whispered into his unconcsious ear.
Chelsea padded quietly on bare feet across the living room to the the bedroom she was
sharing with Brianna. She was just opening the door when she heard the sound of
slippers swishing on the woor floor behind her. She turned around and saw it was Joan,
so Chelsea pretended she was coming out of Briannas room. "Hi, Joan," Chelsea
whispered, "What time is it?" "Around 2 AM," Joan said, "I guess I shouldnt have gone
to bed early, now Im awake and cant get back to sleep. I figured Id try some warm
milk." "Yuck!," Chelsea said, "That would just make me barf." Joan laughed quietly.
She took her cup of warm milk from the microwave and took a sip. "Would you like
some company?" Chelsea asked sweetly. "You must be tired," Joan said. "Not really.
Im kind of wired, actually." "Well, ok, sure," Joan said, "Some company would be
nice." "Cool," Chelsea said, "Lets go out on the porch, so we dont wake the others."
"Im sure Briannas still up. Shes a night owl," Joan laughed. "Uh huh, tell me about
it!" Chelsea grinned. They strolled onto the screened porch and Joan sat down facing
out. Chelsea sat down across from her. There was a half-full bottle of beer sitting on the
floor and Chelsea took a sip. "Its such a lovely night," Joan said, gazing out at the star-
filled sky. Chelsea craned her neck around to look behind her. "Oh, wow!," she
exclaimed. "If youd like, you can sit next to me and enjoy the view," Joan offered.
"May I?" Chelsea asked quietly. "Of course!" Joan said. Chelsea smiled and plopped
herself down next to Joan. They smiled cordially at each other, and then Chelsea slid up
against her and rested her head on Joans neck. Joan was a little startled and confused,
but her maternal instincts kicked in and she slipped her arm over Chelseas shoulder.
Chelsea reached up and grasped her hand gently, and pulled herself tight to Joan. "Its
really beautiful up here, isnt it?" Joan said, trying to break what had become an eerie
silence. "Yes, beautiful," Chelsea said, turning her face to Joan, who could feel
Chelseas warm breath. She felt at first uneasy that Chelseas face was so close to hers
that if she moved, Chelseas lips would touch her cheek, but after a second when Chelsea
turned her face down again, Joan felt strangely disappointed. Chelsea interlaced her
fingers with Joans. "You absolutely have to grow your nails long again," Chelsea said.
"You keep saying that," Joan said. "Well then, promise me you will and Ill quit saying
it," Chelsea smiled, "Youll thank me later, when you see what long nails will do for your
sex life."
"My sex life?" Joan exclaimed, a little startled by the presumptuousness of this young
woman, her daughters college friend, whom shed only met that day. "My sex life is
fine!" Joan said with a touch of indignation. "Know what I think?" Chelsea said, "I think
if your sex life is anything less than awesome, it totally sucks." "Oh, well, at my age…"
Joan started to say. "Youre totally not old!" Chelsea exclaimed, "And, youre totally
hot." Joan said, "Well, thats really sweet of you to say, but…" "Its true. Youve got a
smokin body, and your legs are, like, to die for," Chelsea gushed, gently caressing
Joans calf with her bare foot. Joan giggled at Chelseas exuberance, and meant to thank
her for the compliment, but when she turned her head toward Chelsea, Chelsea turned
toward her at the same time and kissed her on the lips. Joan lingered in Chelseas kiss a
moment , oweing to the shock of being taken completely off-guard. "Oh my God, Im
sorry," Chelsea said, sliding away from Joan and burying her face in her hands, "I dont
know why I did that. Ive never done anything like that before." "I-its ok," Joan said
timidly, still in shock and not knowing what to say or do. Chelsea pleaded, "Please,
please dont tell anyone ever! Not Dr. Cronin, and especially not Brianna." "Of that you
dont have to worry!" Joan exclaimed.
Chelsea uncovered her face and looked up at Joan with pleading eyes. "Joan? May I ask
you something? " she said shyly. "Well, I guess so," Joan answered. "Its kinda
personal. In fact, its really personal." Chelsea said. Joan took a deep breath, "Ok."
Chelsea asked, "Did you ever…have you ever, like, been with another woman?" "Oh,
gosh Chelsea," Joan said, "I think thats the kind of conversation you need to be having
with your own mother." "My Mom is dead," Chelsea said. "Oh…Im…. so, so sorry, I
didnt mean to…," Joan stammered. "Forget it," Chelsea said, finishing the warm beer
and starting to get up. "No, sweetheart, Ive never been with another woman," Joan said
sincerely. Chelsea sat back down and faced her. "Have you ever wanted to? Or even,
like, thought about it?" she asked Joan. "Well, ah…," Joan started. "I mean, before a
minute ago," Chelsea said, and then she laughed, and Joan laughed, although hers was a
little nervous. They stood up and walked into the cottage. Before they went to their
respective rooms, Chelsea grasped Joans hand and said, "Thanks for being so awesome."
And she leaned over and gave Joan a strong but tender kiss on the cheek. Joan touched
her hand to the wetness on her cheek from Chelseas lips. Chelsea put her hand up to
Joans and gently stroked it with her nails and said, "Promise youll grow your nails
long." Joan rolled her eyes. "Promise me," Chelsea whispered. Joan sighed, "Ok, I
promise." And she kissed Chelseas hand and tiptoed into the master bedroom. She got
into bed as quietly as she could, and closed her eyes, but she just kept tossing and turning,
unable to sleep. She shook Bruce gently by the shoulder. "Huh? Whats wrong?" he
muttered half-asleep. "Are you awake?" Joan asked. "I am now," he said. "Good," she
said, "Make love to me. Please?"
It was around 3 AM by then, and Chelsea crept into the bedroom where Brianna, who had
graciously offered to take the top bunk, appeared to be asleep. After washing up,
Chelsea crawled into the bottom bunk and pulled up the covers. "Chelsea?" Brianna said
quietly. Chelsea looked up and saw Briannas face dangling from the top bunk. "I really
needed to talk," Brianna said, "Where have you been?" "Getting it on with your family
of pervs," Chelsea said. Brianna laughed out loud, "Hey, dont make fun! I gave my
own father a boner! Im, like, ruined for life." "You didnt give him a boner," Chelsea
said, "He gave himself a boner." "Same thing," Brianna said. "Its so not the same
thing," Chelsea said, "Your Dad and your Brother get off on long nails. Its called a
fetish. Its no big deal really. In fact, this is the best thing that could happen to you."
"Oh, right!" Brianna said sarcastically. "Im serious," Chelsea said, "From now on you
can get anything…I mean, anything you want from your Dad." "What? You mean Im
supposed to get him hard….eeeeewwwww!.....to get stuff I want?" Brianna asked. "No,
but now that he knows you know about his fetish, hell be like putty in your hands,"
Chelsea said, "But yeah, it wont hurt every once in a while to just give him a little
scratch to remind him." "You are like, sooooo evil!" Brianna gushed, "Im so glad I met
you. I, like, totally love you Chelsea."
Chelsea fished her daypack out from under the bed and rifled through it till she found a
little ziplock bag. "Want to smoke some weed?" she asked Brianna. "Um…I dont
know," Brianna hesitated. "Well do it over by the window so the smell goes outside.
Cmon, lets get high together," Chelsea said. "Um…the truth is, I..um..only tried it, like,
a couple times before, in, like, ninth grade," Brianna confessed. "Dont worry," Chelsea
assured her, "Im not, like, a stoner or anything. And this shit is, like, really smooth."
"Oh, well, then, its ok I guess. Sure, what the hell." Brianna said, climbing down from
her top bunk, dressed in a thin silk nightgown. Chelsea took a joint and lit it by the open
window, and took a long drag and inhaled as if it were a regular cigarette. Then she
passed it to Brianna, who copied her, and choked and coughed and almost gagged. She
passed the joint back to Chelsea, waving her away, still unable to speak without
coughing. Chelsea laughed. "Its ok, youll get used to it. Just relax," she said, taking
another long drag herself, and holding it while she passed the joint back to Brianna,
"Dont try to take a big drag, just take lots of little hits." Brianna followed Chelseas
advice, and after several little hits, she began to take longer drags. "Thats probably
enough for you," Chelsea told her, taking the joint back and finishing it herself. In a few
minutes, Brianna was high as a kite, while Chelsea of course, was just mellow. "Men are
such pigs," Brianna said, "Oink, oink, oink, oink." And she started to giggle. Chelsea
just smiled. Brianna cried, "I mean, can you imagine getting horny over…fingernails??"
She looked at her hands, back and front. "Oooooh, looky, Ive got long fingernails,
oooooh Im so horny," Brianna giggled. Chelsea kept smiling. Suddenly Brianna looked
at Chelsea and said, "With your amazingly long nails I bet you can get anybody you want
to fuck you." "I hope," Chelsea said. Brianna looked at her as if she had a sudden
thought, but forgot it in a second. Brianna started gently scratching her nails on her own
arms. "I dont get it. Nails dont get me horny," she said, then tried gently using her
nails on her face and legs. "Nope, nothing," she said. "Mind if I try?" Chelsea said.
"Huh?" Brianna said, but then she burst into giggles and said, "Sure, go for it." Chelsea
tossed back her long, brown hair and took Briannas hand in hers, turning her arm inside-
up. Gazing deep into Briannas eyes, and, starting from inside Briannas elbow she
slowly, lightly stroked her inch-long fingernails down to Briannas wrist, and across her
palm and along her fingers to her fingertips. Brianna went silent, her eyes fixed on
Chelseas, her mouth half open, her body trembling. Finally after several seconds she
said very slowly, "Oh. My. God. That was sooooo hot." Chelsea smiled. "Do it again,"
Brianna pleaded. Chelsea repeated it, this time slightly harder. Brianna gasped. Chelsea
reached out and gently brushed Briannas hair away from her face with the backs of her
long fingernails, letting them trace softly against Briannas cheek, tucking her hair behind
her ear, and then stroking her nails forward against her cheek to the corner of her mouth.
Their eyes still riveted together, Chelsea brushed Briannas lips with the tips of her nails.
As if by instinct, Brianna opened her mouth and presented her tongue to Chelseas
waiting fingers, which she took inside her mouth and closed her lips. Slowly Chelsea
withdrew her fingers. As she did she felt Brianna try to suck them back inside, and so
Chelsea let her. Chelsea stroked the nails of her other hand slowly down Briannas
slender neck and around behind her, meanwhile she took her fingers out of Briannas
mouth and likewise caressed her neck and back, leaning in close. Chelsea very softly
kissed along Briannas collarbone and up the side of her neck. "Um…Chelsea…whatre
you doing?" Brianna panted, putting her hands up as if to push Chelsea away, but didnt.
"Shhhh, its ok. You said you love me, so you trust me, dont you?" Chelsea whispered,
softly kissing Briannas cheek closer and closer to her mouth. Brianna was trembling
hard. "Well, sure, but…I dont know…I guess…," Brianna couldnt form a cogent
thought, her head was spinning from the cannabis and the electric sensation of Chelseas
nails and lips. "God youre beautiful," Chelsea said softly, clutching her left nails into
Briannas tender back and stroking her right nails across Briannas forehead and down
her face, and the instant their lips touched, Chelsea felt a warm exhale of surrender
escape Briannas little nostrils.
At first they kissed tenderly, but it soon became hot and passionate and frenzied. Deep
beneath the fog of the cannabis, Brianna would occasionally start to regain her inhibitions
against having sex with another woman. Chelsea had only to caress Brianna with her
long fingernails, and she would swoon and resume making out passionately. After some
time, Chelsea could feel that Brianna was totally into it. Gently Chelsea slipped
Briannas nightgown off her soft, smooth shoulders, raking them lightly with her inch-
long fingernails. Brianna inhaled sharply as Chelseas nails traced circles around her
small nipples through her silk nightgown. "I want to touch them," Chelsea whispered.
"With your nails?" Brianna whispered back. "Yes. With my nails. I want to touch you
all over with my long nails," Chelsea said quietly, hypnotically, and she slipped her
hands under the hem of Briannas nightgown. As if mesmerized, Brianna raised her arms
above her head and let Chelsea undress her, then Chelsea shed her oversized t-shirt, and
the two of them were naked facing each other. Chelsea pulled the mattress off the bottom
bunk onto the floor and then she crawled forward on top of Brianna, kissing her stomach
and sucking her nipples, and lightly raking her long nails over Briannas delicate skin.
Brianna moaned and sighed and dragged her own fingernails against Chelseas back.
Chelsea ground her thigh against Briannas crotch, while grinding her own crotch against
Briannas thigh. Suddenly Chelsea sat back and lifted Briannas foot to her face.
Brianna looked apprehensive, but Chelsea took her other hand and dragged her
fingernails along Briannas calf, making Brianna sigh and close her eyes. "You have the
sexiest little feet. Oh, God, I want them so bad," Chelsea gasped, bringing both of
Briannas feet to her face and licking her soles from heel to toe. "Mmmmmmm, what
luscious, salty toes," Chelsea moaned, sucking them and darting her tongue bewteen
them. Brianna was very ticklish, so Chelsea had to be very careful because she wanted to
get Brianna hot, not to tickle her. She had her thumbs under Briannas arches, and her
inch-long thumbnails pressed into Briannas soft, wrinkled soles, in the fleshy part near
her toes. But instead of jerking with ticklishness, Brianna started panting heavily and
shuddered with an orgasm. Chelsea stretched her own legs forward, stopping to caress
Briannas breasts and fondle her nipples with her toes. "Taste mine," she commanded as
she curled her toes to part Briannas lips. She could feel Brianna hesitate, so Chelsea
gently scraped Briannas ankles with her fingernails as she continued to suck her toes.
Brianna opened her mouth and Chelseas toes flooded in, stretching her lips wide. She
could only get her big toes and the next two on each foot into Briannas little mouth, and
the longish toenails on her remaining toes dug into Briannas cheeks and she said a
muffled, "Oww." "Sorry!" Chelsea said, and she went back to fondling Briannas nipples
with her toes, and Brianna relaxed and began enjoying it.
Chelsea had gotten herself really hot sucking Briannas toes, and decided it was time to
take it up a notch. She inserted Briannas big toe in her pussy. Brianna felt it and saw it
and her face suddenly lit up and she began toe-fucking Chelsea like an expert. "Youre a
natural," Chelsea said. Brianna giggled. Chelsea began breathing hard and moaning
louder, until she grabbed the pillow and held it tight to her face to muffle herself as she
orgasmed. Brianna reached for Chelseas foot. "Give me yours," she panted. "Ok but be
careful. My toenails are kinda long." Chelsea warned. "Oh wow, yeah, they are,"
Brianna said, looking at Chelseas toes, "Theyre really sexy." "Thanks," Chelsea said,
carefully inserting her big toe into Briannas tight little pussy. "Is it ok?" Chelsea asked.
Brianna just closed her eyes and nodded her head, and she started breathing harder and
harder until she grabbed Chelseas foot and held it tight while her orgasm shook her
entire body. Chelsea smiled, "I guess it was ok." Brianna sat up. "Dont women, like,
use things?" she asked. "You mean dildos and rubber penises?" Chelsea said. "Yeah,
like that," Brianna giggled, still woozy from the dope. "We dont need to," Chelsea said,
"Weve got magic fingers and toes." Brianna giggled again, and then they kissed.
Brianna took Chelseas huge, hard nipples with her fingernails and gently fondled them.
Chelsea moaned and clutched at Briannas breasts with her own very long nails. Brianna
seemed clearer now, the dope was wearing off, yet she was even more into the sex than
before. She pushed Chelsea down on her back and in a second her tongue was inside
Chelseas pussy, and she was stroking Chelseas thighs with her nails. "Oh my God,
stop, I cant take it…no, I mean, dont stop….Oh God, dont ever stop….youre
incredible," she panted, and smashed the pillow over her face again as she had another
powerful orgasm. Chelsea pulled Brianna up to her mouth and kissed her for a long, long
time. "Now do me," Brianna whispered. "I cant move," Chelsea protested. "Thats ok,
Ill do the moving," Brianna said, and she straddled Chelseas face and slowly moved her
hips against Chelseas probing tongue until Brianna reached her own orgasm and
collapsed beside Chelsea. "I totally love you," Brianna whispered, and she kissed
Chelsea tenderly and pulled Chelseas arm over her and rested her head against Chelseas
breast. The dope finally caught up with Brianna and she fell into a deep, deep sleep.
Saturday mornings sunlight was streaming through around the curtains when Brianna
opened her eyes. She felt Chelseas hand caressing her breast, and she turned her face up
to Chelseas. "Hi," Brianna said softly, smiling. "Hi," Chelsea smiled, and stroked
Briannas nipple with her nails. Brianna shuddered at her touch. Brianna put her hand on
top of Chelseas, and Chelsea turned her hand and held Briannas fingers. "Grow them
as long as mine," she said, rubbing her thumb over the edges of Briannas 1/4-inch nails,
"Do it for me." "Ok, Ill try," Brianna whispered. Brianna sat up. "Does this mean Im
a les…..," she started. Chelsea laughed, "Of course not. Im not. I love doing guys."
"So…were bi-sexual," Brianna said tentatively. "I hate labels," Chelsea said, "I think of
myself as just….sexual." Brianna sighed and smiled, but then a look of panic
transformed her sweet face. "Ohmygod! Youve got to swear youll never tell anyone,"
she cried. "Im the best secret-keeper in the world," Chelsea said, tracing her long
pointer-fingernail along Briannas thigh. Brianna sighed, "Whew! If my Mom ever
found out….shes, like, really repressed…you know?" Chelsea just smiled. "Chels?"
Brianna started. "Huh?" Chelsea responded. "Whats going to happen now…I mean,
where do we go from here?" Brianna said, "Im, like, really confused. What are we to
each other?" "Were BFFs!" Chelsea said, "Ill be your maid of honor, at your wedding
someday, and your kids godmother, and…" Brianna stopped her, "Wedding? Youd
want me to marry some guy? And then what? Cheat on him with you?" "It wouldnt be
cheating, Im not a guy," Chelsea said, "Besides, if your husband is like most guys, hell
probably want to watch…oooh, and if hes really hot, which I wouldnt let you marry
him if he wasnt, we can do threesomes!" Brianna laughed out loud, "God, you really are
sexual, arent you!" Chelsea laughed, thinking to herself if you only knew…
"Seriously, Chelsea," Brianna said, "Youd be ok with me being with someone else?"
"Sure," Chelsea said, "I know I can always have you whenever I want." She reached
down and dragged her nails up Briannas inner thigh, and Brianna sighed and spread her
legs apart. She felt Chelseas nail start to part her labia and Brianna inhaled sharply and
grabbed Chelseas wrist. "I wont hurt you, I promise. Itll be wonderful. Trust me,
ok?" Chelsea said soothingly. Brianna relaxed her grip and Chelsea slowly inserted her
inch-long nail, and she started scraping it ever so lightly against Briannas clit. Brianna
gasped, and fireworks exploded in her head. "Oh…God…" she cried in a high-pitched
squeak, and as she orgasmed, her entire body shuddered and convulsed. Chelsea
gracefully withdrew her hand from Briannas crotch and slowly sucked her fingernail.
"Mmmmmmm, you taste sweet, like cotton candy," Chelsea whispered, and then they
shared a long kiss. "Any time," Brianna panted. Chelsea raised her eyebrows. "You can
totally have me any time you want," Brianna sighed. Chelsea smiled, "BFFs." "BFFs,"
Brianna repeated.
Chelsea and Brianna showered together, and then they dressed and went to the kitchen
where Joan was making breakfast. "Did you two sleep well?" Joan asked. "Uh huh,"
Chelsea said, without a telltale trace in her voice or on her face. "I tried waking Jeff but
he just grunted and I heard his shoe hit the inside of his bedroom door." Joan said,
shaking her head. "Im, like, staaaaaaarving!" Brianna cried, famished from the dope
shed done a few hours before, and she shoved her hand into a box of chocolate-flavored
cereal and began shoveling handfuls of it into her mouth. "Ignore my childrens awful
manners," Joan said to Chelsea, and she joked, "We think they were both switched at
birth." "Oh, I think its safe to say your kids share you guyss DNA," Chelsea smiled.
Just then Bruce came out. When Joan turned her back, Bruce looked at Brianna and
motioned her aside with his head. Still munching cereal, she followed him around the
corner. "Listen, Bri, Id really like to explain…" he started, preparing to tell her about
his fetish and appease what he felt surely must be her guilt that shed somehow
unconsciously done something to turn her own father on. But she interrupted him, "Its
ok, Daddy. Were good," she said with her mouthful. He protested but she said, "No,
really, I mean it. Chelsea made me understand, and its ok." "Chelsea?" Bruce gasped.
"Yeah, shes awesome, Daddy," Brianna gushed, "She really understands people…its,
like, totally amazing." Bruce sighed, uneasily, but obviously Chelsea hadnt told Brianna
of their affair. "Ok, well…but if you ever want to talk to me about it…" he said. "I
know, Daddy. But really, were good," she said, and as Bruce embraced her and kissed
the top of her head she reached behind him and gently scraped his back with her long
fingernails, and when he inhaled sharply and held his breath, she said, "Daddy, when the
lease is up on my Mini in November, I ,like, really want a BMW convertible."
"Bruce, see if you can wake Jeff. I couldnt," Joan said. In a few moments Bruce
returned and said that Jeff wasnt feeling very well, and that he was going to stay in bed
for a while. "Well, were all going down to the lake for a morning swim," Bruce said,
"Maybe by the time we get back, Jeff will be feeling better." "I hate to leave him alone if
hes sick, so why dont you all go, and Ill hang around here," Joan said with typical
maternal concern. "You know, I sorta need to do some reading for class, so Id just as
soon stay here," Chelsea said, "Go with the others, Joan. Let me program your cell
number into my phone, that way if Jeff is really sick, I can call you." "Thats so sweet
of you!" Joan said, writing her cell number on a scrap of paper, "Isnt she sweet, Bruce?"
Chelsea got her book and plopped herself on the couch while the others bundled their
towels and headed out the door. "Well be back in a couple hours," Brianna shouted to
Chelsea. "Have fun," she shouted back. After a minute, Chelsea got up and knocked on
Jeffs door. "Hey, can I come in?" she said. "Go away," he whined. "I was just being
polite, but, ready or not here I come," she said, aware that neither of the childrens
bedroom doors had locks. Just as she turned the knob and opened the door a crack, there
was a thud against the inside, and the door slammed shut. "You dirtbag!" Chelsea
screamed, "I couldve broken a nail!" She leaned against the door but Jeff had his weight
against it. "Leave me the hell alone," he pleaded, "Im totally hung over and my head is
killing me. And, I cheated on my fiancee!" "What you need is to talk to a friend,"
Chelsea said. "You mean, you?! Youre one crazy bitch, you know that!" he screamed.
"Im not crazy," she said quietly, shoving her hip against the door with all her weight, but
Jeffs weight held it shut. "Aaaaaagh! Let! Me! In!" Chelsea screamed, pounding her
fists on the door. "No!" Jeff shouted. "Are you getting as horny as I am?" Chelsea
panted. "Oh my God!" Jeff screamed. "I was just messing with you," Chelsea said,
"Please let me in, I just want to talk. I absolutely promise. Anyway, youre sober and
bigger than me, and Im out of liquor. What do you have to worry about?" "If I have to
stand here against this door until tomorrow, Im not letting you near me," Jeff said
emphatically. Chelsea softly clicked her long fingernails against the door. "Those are
my long fingernails clicking on the door. You remember my long fingernails, dont you
Jeff? You can picture them in your mind, cant you?" "Stop it," Jeff said, "Please, stop
it!" Chelsea began scraping her nails slowly down the door. "Im scratching the door
with my long, beautiful fingernails, Jeff. Im pretending the door is your chest, your
sexy, hairy chest. You remember how it felt when I scratched you with my long, long
nails, dont you Jeff? Remember how hard it got you? Are you hard now Jeff, really
hard?" Jeff said nothing, but she could hear him breathing heavily. "You want to jerk
off, dont you Jeff? To the sound of my sharp nails on the door. Listen to me scratching
it, Jeff. Just like I scratched you last night. Like I would scratch you right now, with my
looooonnnnnng fingernails, the second you let me in." Chelsea heard a little moan from
the other side, and she cautiously put her weight against the door and pushed it open. Jeff
stood there with a pitiful look of defeat on his face, wearing only his underpants, which
could barely contain his huge erection. "Why are you doing this to me?" he said, his
voice breaking. Chelsea stared at the bulge in his underpants, and bit her lower lip, then
she looked into his eyes. Jeff had never seen that kind of animal lust in any womans
eyes, definitely not his fiancees. Chelsea ran her fingers through his chest hair and over
his shoulders. "Lets talk later," she said, and she lept up, clutching her nails into his
back, wrapped her legs around his waist, and kissed him long and hard. She slipped her
toes into his underpants and pushed them down, and he slammed her against the door,
ramming his cock into her furiously as she clawed his back and screamed. They
stumbled around the room, fucking madly, Chelseas long nails digging and scratching
and driving Jeff wilder and wilder, until they tripped and fell onto the mattress which was
still on the floor from last night. She heard Jeff bellow like a bull, and felt him shooting
inside her, and she made him roll on his back and she sat up and reached down and
squeezed the base of his cock with her fingers to keep him hard while she rode him,
moaning louder and louder until her eyes closed and her head went back and the mattress
shook like there was an earthquake.
"What am I going to do?" Jeff said somberly, as they lay there together in the afterglow.
"What do you mean?" Chelsea asked. "I dont think Ill ever find anyone as good as
you," Jeff confessed. "Probably not," Chelsea said, kissing his nipple, "But why would
you look? Youve got me, and Im not going anywhere." "I have to tell Paula," he
sighed. "No you dont," Chelsea said. "Well, yeah, of course I dont have to,
technically. I meant, I should tell her," he said. "No, you shouldnt," she said. "Were
engaged!" Jeff cried, "Were supposed to be getting married!" "So marry her," Chelsea
said, kissing his neck. Jeff sat up suddenly. "You want me to marry her when I know Id
rather be with someone else?" he asked, with a look of utter bewilderment on his face.
Chelsea smiled, "Yeah, itll be way hotter like that!" "Wait, youre saying I should
marry Paula and then cheat on her with you?" Jeff said, now completely shocked.
Chelseas eyes opened wide, and the look of lust returned to her face. "Youll invite me
to your wedding, ok?" she said, "After all, Im your sisters best friend, nobody will
suspect anything. Ill wear a tight, short, sexy dress and sit in the front row…Ill paint
my nails red and you can watch them the whole time, getting hornier and hornier, and
then we can slow dance and Ill scratch your neck with my long red nails until you beg
me to fuck you, and then we can sneak out and do it in the limo. And thats just the
beginning." Jeff looked at Chelsea with complete incredulousness. "What?" she said,
"Forbidden sex is, like, the hottest sex." "What kind of a sick plan is that?!" he cried.
"Well, theres only one other alternative," she said, looking him straight in the eye,
stroking her nails along his limp cock shaft until it was rock hard, and on until he was
panting and moaning and she felt him on the verge of cumming and she said, "Which is,
that youll never feel my nails on you again." And she suddenly took her hand off his
cock. Jeff gasped hard, and it seemed like he was beginning to hyperventilate. "N-no!
D-dont stop. Dont ever stop. Oh God, help me," he cried. "So is it a plan?" Chelsea
said. "Ok, Ok, Yes, Yes," Jeff was almost sobbing. "Itll be awesome, trust me," she
said. Chelsea straddled him and lowered herself onto his cock and as she slowly rode
him she leaned forward and stroked his face with her long fingernails and drowned his
cares with her wet, sweet kiss.
The others came in around 11 AM, and Jeff had showered and dressed. "Want to go
mountain biking after lunch?" he asked his father. "Sure!" Bruce said, "How about you,
Bri?" Brianna said, "Yeah, ok. Chels? Theres another bike. Moms never even
touched it." "I prefer to just lay out in the sun and relax," Joan interjected. "Oh…thanks,
but bikes arent my thing." Chelsea said, and she turned to Joan, "Laying out sounds
good." So after theyd eaten, Bruce and his two children set off mountain biking, and
Joan and Chelsea spread towels over a couple of lounges behind the cottage. They took
off their terrycloth coverups and stretched out on the lounges. Chelsea was wearing dark,
fashion sunglasses, so Joan couldnt see that Chelsea was eyeing her from head to toe out
of the corner of her eye. "I just love this place," Joan sighed, "Its so secluded and
private." Chelsea suddenly sat up and took off her bikini top, and Joan let out a tiny gasp
of surprise. Chelsea raised her sunglasses and said, "Im sorry…Is it ok with you?"
"Uh…oh, sure," Joan said nervously. "I cant stand tan lines," Chelsea said, slowly
rubbing suntan lotion on her breasts. "I know what you mean," Joan laughed. "So?
Take your top off!" Chelsea said brightly. "Oh…I dont think…," Joan started. "Come
on," Chelsea said, "Let go. Be free." Reluctantly, Joan undid her top and slowly
removed it, covering herself shyly with her other hand. Chelsea reached over and took
Joans wrist and slowly eased her hand down, interlacing her fingers with Joans and
grasping her hand. Joan looked sorrowfully at Chelsea, "I feel very inadequate next to
you." "You soooo have no reason to," Chelsea exclaimed, "Theyre gorgeous!" Joan
blushed. "Uh…Im afraid Ill burn," Joan said, "May I have some of your lotion?" "Of
course!" Chelsea said, and she rolled on her side and poured some lotion on her hand and
reached over and began rubbing it gently on Joans breasts. Joan inhaled a deep breath.
"T-thats not exactly what I meant by….," she started. But Chelsea was finished and she
lay back on her lounge. "You dont think Im, like, a bad influence on Brianna, do you
Joan?" Chelsea said. "Why would you think that?" Joan asked. "Well, sometimes I say
things or do things that I probably should control myself about," she admitted. Joan
turned to her, "Are you still thinking about…about, you know, last night…when you…"
"I kissed you," Chelsea said, "I must disgust you." Tears streamed from her eyes. "Oh,
honey, no, you dont disgust me!" Joan comforted her, rolling on her side and wiping
Chelseas tears with the back of her hand. "It wasnt disgusting?" Chelsea sniffled.
"Well, no…actually it was….kind of….sweet," Joan said slowly. "Guys tell me my
kisses are sweet," Chelsea smiled. "Oh…I didnt mean sweet like the taste," Joan said,
becoming a little flustered, "Actually, it wasnt long enough…wait, what I meant is, I
couldnt really taste it…" "Me too," Chelsea said, "Wanna try again?" But before Joan
could say anything Chelsea said, "Just kidding!" They both were silent for a while, and
drifted in and out of sleep, enjoying the warm sun.
Finally both awake, they stretched languidly at the same time, and each seeing that the
other had done exactly the same, they both laughed. Chelsea wiggled her feet. "You
have the prettiest toes!" Joan said, admiring Chelseas longish, red-painted toenails.
"Thanks!" Chelsea smiled, and she crossed her leg over and rested her foot on Joans
ankle, "Would you like me to do you?" "Uh...uh…I-I…" Joan stammered. "I do my
own pedicure. Would you like me to do your toes?" Chelsea said. "Oh…oh! Ok, sure!"
Joan laughed. "Its getting kinda hot out here, maybe we should go in?" Chelsea said.
They went inside, and Chelsea said, "Ill go get my pedicure stuff." Joan went into the
master bedroom to wash her feet, and when she came out, Chelsea was sitting on the bed,
indian-style, with her makeup kit open beside her. "I thought wed…." Joan said,
looking toward the door, "…but I guesss here is fine." She propped the pillows up
against the headboard and sat back. Chelsea lifted Joans foot and gently caressed her
sole. "Wow, you, like, have really soft feet. No corns, and just a tiny bit of callous," she
said, scraping her inch-long fingernail over the heel. "Tee hee, Im very ticklish!" Joan
giggled, "Brianna is too." "Really?" Chelsea said, pretending she didnt know. Chelsea
took a stone from her kit and gently sanded Joans heels. "Tell me if Im tickling you,
ok?" she told Joan, "I dont mean to but sometimes I cant help it on account of my nails
are so long." "Well, when my fingernails have grown out, Ill get you back," Joan said.
"Im weird, my feet arent ticklish at all," Chelsea said, "But Ill be glad to let you try."
Chelsea took a metal file and began to gently scrape under Joans toenails, which were
rather short. When she was doing her big toe, Joan suddenly cried "Ouch!". "Oh God, I
poked you! Im so sorry!" Chelsea said, and she immediately put Joans toe in her mouth
and sucked it. After several seconds, Joan timidly said, "I think its probably ok now…"
Chelsea raised her beautiful eyes to Joans, and slowly took Joans toe out of her mouth.
"I promise Ill be more careful," she said quietly, and she kissed the tip of Joans toe.
"What color would you like? I have bright red, deep red, blue, green, purple and black,"
Chelsea said. "Dont you think they need clipping?" Joan asked. There was just a little
bit of white nails showing on her toes. "No, actually, you should let them grow longer,"
Chelsea said. Joan grimmaced. "Seriously, toenails look sexier when theyre at least to
the end of the toes," Chelsea said, "Or even a little over." And she unfolded her leg and
held her foot closer to where Joan could see it. "Hmm, I see now how long yours are. I
didnt really notice it before," Joan remarked. "As long as you keep them painted,
nobody thinks they look gross," Chelsea said, "Its the secret of why mine look so sexy."
Joan smiled, "They certainly do look se…uh….nice," Joan said, and she blushed. As she
retracted her foot, Chelsea brushed it against Joans arm. "So, what color will it be?"
Chelsea repeated. "What do you think?" Joan asked her. "I think theyd all look totally
hot on you," Chelsea said without hesitation. "Well, how about we go with the deep
red?" Joan said. "Awesome," Chelsea said, and she put little rubber toe spreaders
between Joans toes and held her foot tenderly while she very carefully and accurately
applied the deep red polish. As she finished each of Joans toenails, Chelsea held it up to
her mouth and gently blew on it. Cautiously she raised just her eyes, and she saw that
Joan was finally looking relaxed. When shed finished the last one, Chelsea said softly,
"They need to dry for a few minutes, then do another coat, and finally a clear top coat."
"Ok," Joan sighed. Chelsea stretched out next to Joan while they waited for the polish to
dry. Neither of them had bothered to put their tops back on, and when Chelsea leaned
across Joan to get a pillow, her long, brown hair brushed across Joans breasts. Chelsea
took a file and did a little shaping of her inch-long fingernails. "When you had long
nails, were you, like, obsessed with them like I am?" Chelsea asked Joan. "I dont
know….maybe," she answered, "Probably. I was young and wanted to be sexy all the
time." "Dont you want to be sexy anymore?" Chelsea asked innocently. "Well, I
suppose so, but…" Joan said. "Because you are anyway," Chelsea said. "Thank you,
sweetheart," Joan smiled. "Can I tell you something and you wont think Im crazy?"
Chelsea asked. Joan laughed, "Of course." "My nails turn me on," Chelsea confided.
Joan looked at her. "Sometimes even if I just look at them," Chelsea continued, holding
her fingers outspread and turning her hands slowly, curving and waving her fingers, "But
especially if I touch myself with them." "You mean…" Joan started. "Oh sure, down
there," Chelsea said, "But, really, anywhere." Chelsea sat up, and she slid down to
Joans feet and applied a second coat of deep red polish, and again she blew softly on
each toe. Then she stretched out next to Joan again, and she rested her head on Joans
shoulder. "Did you ever turn yourself on with your nails?" Chelsea asked. "Well…wow,
I cant believe Im actually talking about these things…I used to touch myself…down
there…sometimes…but never with my nails," Joan revealed. "Oh God, its, like, totally,
awesomely a-ma-zing with nails!" Chelsea gushed. "Arent you afraid youll scratch
yourself?" Joan asked. "Nuh-uh," Chelsea said, "And my nails are reeeeeealy long and I
get them in pretty far and…." "Uh…ok, I believe you," Joan laughed nervously. "Sorry,
T.M.I.," Chelsea giggled, and blushed. "What I meant was," Chelsea went on, "Did you
ever, like, just do this and it made you get hot?" Chelsea slowly scraped her long
fingernails very lightly over her own arms. "I cant remember, but I dont think so," Joan
answered, and she laughed, "I guess Ill just have to wait and try it when my nails are
long again." Chelsea bit her lower lip and her eyes twinkled, and she gently scratched
her nails slowly up Joans arm. Joan drew a deep breath, and Chelsea scraped her nails
slowly back down Joans arm. With her head on Joans shoulder, Chelsea could feel her
tremble and begin to breathe hard, and she started her nails back up Joans arm. Joan
whimpered and caught Chelseas wrist and held it firm. "Now you have even more
inspiration for letting yours grow," Chelsea smiled. Joan looked confused, embarassed,
and a little frightened. Before it could turn to anger, Chelsea said, "Youre so awesome,
Joan," and she rolled over so she could embrace her with both hands. Chelseas bare
breasts were pressed against Joans, and Chelsea kissed her softly on the cheek. "I
always imagined what it would be like to have someone awesome to tell stuff to.
Someone like a Mom," Chelsea said quietly, and Joan melted. She wrapped her arms
around Chelseas bare back and held her tight. Silently, Joan realized how distant
Briannas and her relationship had become over the years.
Chelsea put the clear top coat on Joans toenails, but this time instead of joining Joan at
the head of the bed, she began firmly but gently massaging Joans feet, and looked up at
Joan, wondering if she would tense up again, but she just said, "Ooooh, that feels nice."
"People tell me I give the greatest foot rubs," Chelsea said softly. "Youre going to spoil
me," Joan sighed, closing her eyes, "What am I going to do when youre not around?"
"Maybe Brianna will...," Chelsea started. "Yeah, right!" Joan sighed. Chelsea smiled,
"Well, then I guess well have to make a regular thing of me doing your toes." "I think
Id like that," Joan said softly. Chelsea began massaging deeper. Joan was lying back,
breathing deep, then she started sighing quietly. Chelseas thumbs pressed into Joans
arches and her fingers worked her insteps. She could hear the rubber toe spreaders
scrunching as Joan curled and uncurled her toes. Joans sighs were getting louder, and
Chelsea saw that Joans eyes were closed and she was slowly tossing her head from side
to side against the pillow. With one hand, Chelsea massaged Joans calf, starting at her
ankle and working up, then she slowly dragged her long nails back to Joans ankle. Joan
whimpered, but her eyes stayed closed. Chelsea repeated on Joans other leg. Chelsea
felt herself getting very wet, and she wanted desperately to plunge Joans toes into her
mouth, to lick her wrinkled soles. Mostly she wanted to feel Joans body…all of it,
everywhere…under her long, lovely fingernails, and to kiss her deep and hard. But
Chelsea forced herself not to succumb to the arousing sounds of Joans moaning, because
she didnt want to frighten Joan away. She took a deep breath and tossed her hair back,
and pressed her thumbnails into the soft, wrinkled flesh of Joans soles near her toes, just
where shed pressed them into Briannas that morning. Joan arched her neck and opened
her mouth wide, at first no sound came out, but after a moment she gave out a long, high-
pitched moan, and her shaking body rattled the bed. Chelsea watched the bottles of nail
polish dance and clatter on the bedspread. Finally Joan stopped shaking and moaning
and lay still, except for the heaving of her breasts up and down as she fought to catch her
breath. "Are you ok?" Chelsea said with great concern in her voice, kneeling over Joan.
Joan just nodded. "Is it athsma?" Chelsea asked. Joan shook her head, and she slapped
her hands over her eyes. "Wha…oh my God! Did you?" Chelsea started to shout, then
she went into a whisper, "Did you just have an orgasm?" Joan sat up and looked quickly
into Chelseas eyes and then lowered her head. "Oh my God!" Chelsea said, "I, like, read
or heard somewhere that a woman could get an orgasm from having her feet massaged
but I thought it was bullshit. So, was it good?" "Is there such a thing as a bad orgasm?"
Joan said, raising her head, and the two of them smiled at each other. Chelsea reached
out and gently brushed Joans hair away from her face with the backs of her long
fingernails, letting them trace softly against Joans cheek. Chelsea leaned forward and
rubbed the tip of her nose against Joans cheek and planted a tiny kiss at the corner of her
mouth. She felt Joan tremble slightly, but she knew Joan had to still be very aroused, and
Chelsea left a tiny kiss on Joans lips, and then another, even lighter, and she felt Joan
purse her lips very slightly to meet Chelseas, tantalized by her feather-soft kisses and
wanting more. Joan felt Chelseas lips press against hers, they kissed tenderly, then just
barely parted. Joan put her hands againt Chelsea in a weak gesture of restraining her, but
Chelsea took Joans hands and guided them gently into an embrace. "Im
so…confused…and scared," Joan whispered. "I know. Me too," Chelsea whispered,
pulling Joan to her and stroking her back with her long fingernails, drowning what little
resistance Joan might have had left, in the warmth and sweetness of her deep,
intoxicating kiss. Chelsea gently rolled Joan halfway on top of her and ushered Joans
hand down, as she slowly spread her legs, and she began to guide Joans fingers into her
pussy. She felt Joan resist, slightly, and Joan whispered, "What should I do?" "Touch
me like you touch yourself. I want to know what it feels like to be you," Chelsea said
quietly. As Joan began to finger her, Chelsea closed her eyes and gently stroked Joans
back with her long fingernails, and she sucked one of Joans nipples into her mouth. In a
very short time, Joan felt Chelseas nails press into her back, and then felt her shudder
and exhale hard. She looked down and saw her nipple pop out of Chelseas mouth, and
Chelsea turned her face up to Joans and closed her eyes. Joan met Chelseas parted lips
with her own. Chelsea traced her long pointer fingernail slowly down Joans body,
watching it raise goosebumps. Gently she rolled partway on top of Joan, easing Joans
legs apart with her knee. Chelsea rubbed her soft foot slowly up and down Joans leg.
"Youre so amazing," Chelsea said, stroking Joans hard, flat stomach with her very long
nails. Joan smiled, "So are you." Joan gasped a little when she felt the smooth hardness
of Chelseas nail begin to enter her. "I wont hurt you," Chelsea whispered. Chelsea
slowly drew her middle fingernail in and out across Joans clit, until Joan was moaning,
then she gradually went deeper on each stroke, listening for Joans moaning to increase.
With her middle finger still deep inside Joan, she started to fondle and roll Joans clit
between her thumbnail and pointer fingernail. Joan began thrashing her head, and her
moans were turning to little squeaks, and finally Joan was gasping and yelling,
"Oh..Oh..Oh...Ohhhhhhhhhh" and Chelsea saw that Joans toes were curled tight and her
hands were clutching the sheets with all her strength. "No more…no more….no more!"
Joan screamed, but Chelsea only did it a little softer and Joan immediately started yelling,
"No! Dont stop dont stop dont stop….Ohhhhhhhhhhhh Gggggoddddddd!" and she
turned her head and bit the pillow and screamed into it and the bed rattled and shook like
an earthquake had struck. "How was it?" Chelsea asked when Joan calmed down. "Like
nothing I ever felt before in my life," Joan panted breathlessly, "How about for you?
How was I for you?" "You were awesome!" Chelsea said, kissing Joans lips. "Its
gonna be even more incredible when you have long nails, too," Chelsea said, stroking her
long fingernails through Joans damp hair. Joan sat up and took Chelseas hands in hers
and looked her in the eyes and said as kindly but firmly as she could, "Chelsea, I admit
this was unbelievably great, but it was a one-time thing. We cant….it isnt going to
happen again. Understand?" Chelsea bit her lower lip and nodded, then she cocked her
head to the side and smiled sweetly, "How about Tuesday?" Joan stared at her for a
second, then she said, "Im free all afternoon on Tuesday." "I love you so much,"
Chelsea said, hugging Joan tight. Just then they heard voices through the window, and
they quickly put on their tops, and Joan straightened the sheets. Bruce walked in, and
Joan raced up to him and put her hands on his shoulders. "Look," she said, extending her
leg sideways, "Chelsea talked me into letting her paint my toenails. Dont you think
theyre sexy?" "Oh yeah!" Bruce agreed. "Im really glad we did it," Joan winked to
Chelsea, who smiled and left the room. "You need a shower!" Joan said to Bruce, then
nibbled on his ear and whispered, "Dont take too long."
That evening they barbecued and ate dinner outside, and they all went for a walk and
watched the sun set by the lake, sitting on towels atop the large rocks lining the shoreline,
dangling their feet in the water. Bruce, Joan, and Brianna started discussing Jeffs
upcoming nuptials. "Youre strangely silent, bro," Brianna said to Jeff, teasingly, "Not
having second-thoughts, are you? I guess thatd be too much to hope for." "Shut up,
Brianna," Jeff said quietly. "Lets talk about something else, shall we?" Joan said,
"Chelsea must be bored to death." "Why?" Brianna said, "Chelseas invited, isnt she?
After all, shes my BFF." And she smiled at Chelsea, who smiled back. "We already
have a huge guest list," Bruce started, but Joan interrupted him. "Bruce!" she cried, and
she looked at Chelsea apologetically. "I totally understand if Im not invited to Jeffs
wedding," Chelsea said, looking next to her at Jeff, and making little splashes in the
water with her long fingernails. Jeff sighed and said, "Of course youre invited."
Chelsea said, "Youre not just doing it to save my feelings? I mean, are you sure you
really want me?" She raised her hand gracefully so the droplets dripped slowly off the
ends of her inch-long fingernails and plopped into the lake, smiling knowingly at Jeff,
unseen to the others. "Im sure," he said tersely. "Ooohh, thankyouthankyouthankyou!"
Chelsea cried, throwing her arms around Jeff, and she quickly whispered, "Itll be
awesome." Brianna also jumped up and thanked her brother, hugging him and
scratching his back with her nails. "Ooops, sorry. My bad," she whispered. "Screw you,
Brianna!" he whispered back. "Not tonight darling, I have a headache," Brianna giggled,
and dodged his backhanded swat. Joan and Bruce got up and Bruce yawned and put his
arm around Brianna, who held Chelseas hand, and they all started back. Jeff said he
was going to go for a last swim. "Thats not safe, you all alone," Joan said with typical
maternal worry. "Ill stay," Chelsea said, "Im not really sleepy yet." "No, really, dont
bother," Jeff said. "My God," Joan said, glaring at Jeff, "I swear, you and your father
sometimes have no manners at all. Thank you, Chelsea, thats very nice of you." Jeff
looked at his mother helplessly and then at Chelsea and muttered, "Ok, fine." "Thats
about the most youre going to get from the men in this family," Joan said to Chelsea.
"Oh…I wouldnt say that," Chelsea said softly to Jeff, as the others walked off.
The pitch-black sky was laced with stars, and an almost-full moon reflected off the calm
lake. Jeff felt Chelseas eyes burning into him as he took off his shirt and cut-offs and
stood in his swim trunks. "Stay back," he admonished her. "Or what?" she laughed. "I
mean it, keep away from me, youre bad news," he said angrily, wading into the water.
"You know thats just gonna get me hot, dont you?" Chelsea smiled. Jeff ignored her
and swam out a ways and then turned and swam back to where hed left his clothes.
There was Chelsea, floating on her back, the moonlight reflecting off her wet, naked
breasts. "The water looked so nice I decided to come in," she said, "Silly me, I forgot my
suit." "I cant deal with you, Chelsea," he said. "You appeared out of nowhere and
turned my life inside out. Now everything is ridiculously complicated." Chelsea said, "It
sooo isnt complicated," she said, and she swam to him. Jeff watched the trail of water
droplets arc from her fingertips, and the moonlight diffusing through her inch-long
fingernails when she spread her wet fingers and gently raked her nails from his shoulders
down his chest, making tracks through his wet mat of hair. She felt Jeff shivver and
groan. "Its very, very simple," Chelsea said softly, "My nails get you hot. Getting you
hot with my nails gets me hot. Then, we fuck." She wrapped her legs around his middle
and snaked her tongue into his mouth, and she worked his swim trunks off with her toes,
and she guided his hard cock into her pussy. After they had sex and went ashore, and
before they dressed, Chelsea stood close to Jeff and gently scratched his arms. Jeff
started panting, and she felt his cock grow hard against her thigh. She reached down and
lightly traced the length of his shaft with a long nail. "I dont have class Thursday
mornings. Come to my dorm, ok?" she said. Jeff was gasping. "Just nod if you agree,"
she smiled, and Jeff nodded quickly, as she wrapped her hand around his cock and jerked
him off.
"Ive been waiting forever for you!" Brianna whined when Chelsea came through their
bedroom door. "Awww, its only been an hour," Chelsea said. "Well it seemed like
forever," Brianna said, opening her arms and gesturing with her fingers for Chelsea to
come to her. "I feel like a shower," Chelsea said, getting naked. "Can I join you?"
Brianna said. Chelsea smiled and held out her hand. The door to the bathroom was
locked, and Brianna banged on it. "Im gonna take a shower," Jeff said. "Can me and
Chelsea join you? Just think…twenty long fingernails at once," Brianna teased. "Thats
so not funny," Jeff said, "Im really embarassed about…you know." "About that long
fingernails give you a boner?" Brianna said. "Shut up, Bri, I mean it," he shouted. "Oh,
ok. Im sorry," Brianna said, "Have a nice shower. If you need anything, me and
Chelsea will in here, making out." They heard the water go on, and Jeff laugh, "Yeah,
right." Brianna turned to Chelsea and giggled softly. Chelsea just smiled. Brianna
looked at Chelseas unbelievably beautiful naked body, and her giggles stopped. They
embraced and kissed. Chelsea spun Brianna around so her back was to Chelseas front,
and she spread her fingers and stroked her nails down the front of Briannas nightgown
and rested her chin on Briannas shoulder and kissed her neck. She looked down at the
floor, at Briannas little bare feet with their plump toes and tiny pink toenails, and
Chelsea put her foot on top of Briannas and stroked it up and down her leg. Chelsea
pulled Briannas nightgown up with one hand, and with her other hand, gently raked her
long nails through Briannas soft little tuft of snatch. Brianna gently scratched her nails
on Chelseas arm, and reached her other hand back and grabbed her nails into Chelseas
ass. Chelsea panted breathlessly, "Oh, God, Brianna. Im, like, totally going to devour
you."
The bedroom was light already when Chelsea got up off the mattress, trying not to wake
Brianna. Brianna stirred slightly and opened her eyes. She was exhausted from a night
of explosive orgasms, and she tingled from sensitive nerve endings Chelsea had excited
with her inch-long fingernails. Still, when she felt those fingernails gently stroke her
face, and Chelseas lips softly on hers, Brianna started to get aroused. "Sleep," Chelsea
whispered, and with two long nails she gently brushed Briannas eyelids closed.
Chelsea took a quick shower and went out into the hallway, where the smell of bacon
and pancakes filled her nostrils and made her instantly hungry. "Oh my God, that smells
amazing!" Chelsea said to Joan, who was busy at the sink. "Its a Sunday tradition in our
house," Joan said. "Oh, man. Its going to be hell going back to the dorm after this,"
Chelsea said. "Wheres Brianna?" Joan asked. "Still sleeping," Chelsea said, "Shes
kinda not a morning person." Joan laughed, but then she got serious. "Chelsea…About
Brianna…," she started. "Oh, right. Please, please, Joan, she cant ever know. About
me….us, I mean. Briannas, like, very….um….traditional." Joan smiled and nodded,
deeply relieved at no longer feeling compelled to ask if Chelsea was sexually attracted to
her daughter.
"Wheres Dr. Cronin?" Chelsea asked. "Dead to the world," Joan giggled, and she
blushed. Chelsea raised her eyebrows. "I think I might have worn him out last night,"
Joan smiled. "It must be the magic polish I put on your toenails yesterday," Chelsea
joked. "Or, something else magical you did for me," Joan smiled. "Something like
this?" she asked, slipping her arms around Joan from behind, kissing her neck and
stroking Joans leg with her soft, bare foot. Joan started to pant. "We cant!" Joan
whispered. But Chelseas left hand was already inside Joans t-shirt, scraping her nipples
lightly with her long nails, and her right hand dove into Joans shorts and her nails gently
slipped into Joans pussy. Joan clasped her hands over her mouth and kept herself from
screaming as her orgasm hit so forcefully that her legs gave out from under her and she
would have fallen to the floor had it not been for Chelsea holding her under her breasts
and against the sink counter. Chelsea helped Joan turn to face her, still wobbly on her
legs, so that Joan watched while Chelsea sucked her long nails clean of Joans juices.
She saw Chelseas head turn slightly, and her eyes begin to close, and in a second they
were devouring each others tongues. Chelsea clutched her nails into Joans ass and
whispered, "Now do me." Joan obliged, and after Chelsea orgasmed she took Joans
hands and gently brought them to Joans mouth, where she licked them clean, at first
hesitantly but soon with increasing relish. "God, I hope your nails grow really fast,"
Chelsea said.
"Good morning!" Bruce said, and Joan screamed. "Im sorry, I didnt mean to scare
you," Bruce apologized, "Uh…Good morning, Chelsea. Youre up early." "Its Joans
fault," Chelsea laughed, lifting the tip of her nose with her inch-long middle fingernail
and inhaling deeply, "Such a tantalizing aroma." "Joans Sunday breakfast is legendary,"
Bruce smiled at Joan, who smiled sort of nervously, still feeling a little unsteady. He was
shirtless, and Chelsea stared at him. Her back was to Joan so she didnt see Chelsea bite
her lower lip and flare her nostrils. "Put a shirt on if youre coming to the table!" Joan
cried. "Im going for a jog before breakfast," he said. "Can I join you for that run, Dr.
Cronin?" Chelsea asked. "I always jog alone…" he started, but Joan interrupted him.
"Be polite to our guest, Bruce," and she turned to Chelsea, "Hed be delighted to have
you."
The two of them went outside and began jogging down the path into the woods behind
the cottage. "You do know, of course, that as soon as I saw you without your shirt on, I
totally had to fuck you," Chelsea said as they jogged. "Not this time," he said defiantly,
"This time you cant have me." "I can always have you," she said confidently. Bruce
started sprinting, with Chelsea giggling in hot pursuit, keeping up with him easily, her
hair, in a ponytail, whipping from side to side. A few times she closed in on him enough
that he felt her nails swipe against his back as she tried to grab him. "Im getting hornier
by the second," she shouted. Bruce was starting to tire, he was starting to breathe very
hard, even starting to gasp a little. "Better give up before you die," Chelsea shouted,
giggling, "Im not into necro!" Soon Bruce was exhausted and he started slowing.
Eventually he collapsed on his back in some very tall grass, gasping for air. Chelsea was
on top of him in an instant, still giggling, and barely winded. She clawed at his running
shorts, freeing his dick, and she whipped off her oversized t-shirt. Bruce looked up at her
glistening body straddling him, rivers of perspiration running down her perfect skin,
droplets of sweat suspended momentarily from her hard nipples, and then dripping onto
him. "I can always have you. Remember that," she said victoriously. Her eyes narrowed
and she leaned forward and kissed him hard, dragging her long nails seductively down
his cheeks. With her mouth over his, Bruce struggled to take in enough air through his
nostrils, and he felt even dizzier than he usually did when she kissed him. Chelsea slid
backwards, dragging her nails through his thick chest hair, and she cupped his semi-erect
cock in her hands and stroked the head with her long thumbnails, and he responded
quickly, becoming rock-hard. Chelseas face transformed with lust and she spread her
legs and impailed herself on his cock. After they finished fucking, Chelsea lay against
Bruces hairy chest. "Joan told me you made her promise to grow her nails out," he said,
"I suppose I should thank you." "Youll have lots of chances," she smiled, playfully
tracing a long fingernail around his nipple, "Tell your receptionist to schedule me twice a
week from now on." "Um, about that, Chelsea. I think its best if you see another
therapist," Bruce said. Chelsea scratched her long, beautiful fingernails lightly from his
hand all the way up his arm, heard him gasp, and watched his cock spring to attention.
She stroked his cock with her nails. "Daddy doesnt always know whats best," she
whispered, just as he began to shoot.
Back at the cottage everyone had lunch and tidied up, and then they packed up for the
drive back home. They loaded their stuff in the two cars, and Bruce locked up the
cottage. Chelsea threw her arms around Bruce and said, "It was so nice to meet you, Dr.
Cronin! Thanks for having me," and she whispered in his ear, "See you Wednesday," as
she gently pressed her nails into his back. "So nice to meet you, Jeff," she said, giving
him a hug, "Im so looking forward to your wedding…and everything," and she gently
touched his arm with her long fingernails and whispered, "Thursday. Dont forget."
Chelsea looked at Joan and smiled, but suddenly tears flowed down her cheeks. "Come
here, baby," Joan said, hugging her tight in her arms, kissing Chelseas cheek and tasting
her salty tears. "I love you," Chelsea said quietly, stroking one long nail gently along
Joans neck, and she whispered in her ear, "See you Tuesday."
Bruce, Joan and Jeff got in their SUV and started off. They spoke very little during the
ride, and Chelseas name was not mentioned once. Brianna drove Chelsea in her Mini,
with the windows down and the stereo turned up, and they rocked-out to the music.
Chelsea had her feet out the window, and she smiled seductively at every guy in every
car they passed or that passed them. One young guy in a pickup pulled alongside with his
arm out his window waving a piece of paper with his cell number on it, and Chelsea took
it, watching his eyes pop when he saw her inch-long nails and felt them brush his hand.
"Youre unbelievable!" Brianna cried. "So are you," Chelsea said, scratching her nails
up Briannas thigh. "God! Stop it!" Brianna cried, "Youll get us killed." "Wanna pull
over and make out?" Chelsea asked. "Sure!" Brianna cried, and pulled onto the shoulder.
"I was just joking," Chelsea laughed, "Youre not allowed to stop on the interstate except
for an emergency." "Were overheating," Brianna giggled, and she scratched her nails up
Chelseas thigh. Chelsea kissed Brianna softly and said, "Lets just get home, ok?" "Ok,"
Brianna said, disappointed, then her face lit up and she gushed, "Hey, wanna spend the
night in my dorm room? Ive got a single." "Awesome!" Chelsea said, and Brianna
gunned the Mini back onto the highway. "God, I cant believe finals are in 2 weeks, and
then I have to move back home for the summer," Brianna said. "Yeah, I havent even
looked for a place for the summer yet," Chelsea said. Briannas eyes widened. "Come
live at my house! You can stay in my room, theres a pull-out bed…" she gushed, and
giggled, "Not that we necessarily have to use it." Chelsea said, "Oh…gee, Brianna…I
dont know if your folks would want me around 24/7." "My Mom, like, totally loves
you," Brianna cried, "And Im sure I can get Daddy to say yes," Brianna grinned, looking
at her long nails and flexing her fingers as if scratching something. Chelsea smiled and
licked her lips. "Awesome," she sighed.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Part 3
Sex, Lies and Awesome Nails - Part 3
CHAPTER ONE…
Chelsea Larson was now starting her junior year in college. About 56"
and very attractive, with long straight brown hair, and large hazel eyes, she had a
perfectly-sculpted nose; lush, full lips, and the high cheekbones of a model. She had
long, toned legs and a perfect ass, and perky, luscious breasts. Her most striking feature
though, was her exquisite fingernails, which were all about one inch long, and always
perfectly-shaped, straight, clean, and clear. They were Chelseas passion and her
obsession, and she used them for seduction. Chelsea had no interest in anyone who
pursued her. She was herself a predator, gaining sexual gratification through conquest. It
was so easy for Chelsea to seduce anyone, male or female, who struck her desire at any
given moment, that although she had an insatiable appetite for sex, she became more
selective as time went on, seeking out those who would try hardest to resist her. Most of
her conquests had been fellow students, with the exception of one professor, and her
therapist…and his wife! At 21, Chelsea only rarely seduced anyone her own age or
younger, because it was too easy. So she had decided to move out of the dorm and into
her own apartment, hoping to find more challenging and exciting conquests.
Chelsea hired a mover to bring her belongings up, because she was afraid she might
break one of her ten perfect long fingernails. He seemed to be in his late 20s and well-
built, and Chelsea enjoyed watching his muscles bulge as he lifted the boxes. It had been
almost a full day since she had had sex, and she was very horny. Chelsea was in cut-offs
and barefoot, and her thin tube-top barely contained her perfect breasts with their large,
prominent nipples. She could see that the mover would steal glances at her whenever he
thought she wasnt aware, but as soon as she looked at him, he turned away quickly.
That got her interested, and when she saw the plain, gold wedding band on his finger,
Chelsea could feel herself getting wet.
Chelsea sat yoga-style on her bed while the mover placed boxes around the room. She
was drinking a Coke, and she wrapped her long-nailed fingers around the bottle and
licked her tongue around the neck, mindful that the mover was watching her out of the
corner of his eye. "Would you like a drink?" she asked him sweetly. "Oh…sure, that
would be great!" he said. Chelsea took her lips away from the bottle with a juicy sucking
sound and held the Coke out at arms length, smiling warmly into his eyes. He was
startled that she meant to offer him a drink from her bottle, and he hesitated. "Are you
afraid of my germs?" she asked innocently. "Oh, uh…I…no..." he stammered, at a loss
for words. "My nails?" she asked, clicking them on the bottle. "Huh?" he said. "Are
you afraid of my nails?" Chelsea asked. The mover blushed slightly, and reached for the
Coke. As she released the bottle into his grip she just barely grazed his hand with the tips
of her one inch-long clear fingernails. "I promise I wont scratch you," she said softly, and
then she added with a wink, "…unless you ask me to." The mover coughed on his swig
of Coke and Chelsea laughed a sexy, musical laugh. "Whats your name?" she asked.
"Steve," he replied.
Chelsea leaned back on her bed and uncrossed her long, toned legs. When Steve leaned
to hand her back the Coke, she wrapped her hand around his, gently indenting her nails
into his skin. "Uh, look miss," he began. "Chelsea. Im Chelsea," she said, looking deep
into his eyes. "Chelsea, youre really hot…" he started. "I know," she said with
complete ingenuousness. "But Im a married guy," he finished. "Im totally into married
guys," she said. "Im really, truly, happily married," Steve added. "Does that mean you
dont want me?" Chelsea asked softly, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. "No, no,
its not that at all…" Steve began, reacting instinctively to calm her sudden emotions.
"So, you do want me!" Chelsea exclaimed brightly. Steve looked nervously at his watch
and then at the boxes. "Look, Id better get going," he said. "Ok," Chelsea sighed and
she fished her checkbook out of her purse. After she signed the check she handed it to
Steve, but as he reached for it she let it slip, and it fluttered to the carpet. When he
grasped the check, Chelsea placed her bare foot on his hand, curling her toes and gently
digging her glossy red slightly-long toenails into his skin. "Do you like my pedicure?"
she asked shyly. Being a trained mover, rather than bend, Steve had squatted down to
retrieve the check, and Chelsea could see the large, hard bulge in his pants. While he
was distracted by the touch of her soft toes on his hand, Chelsea put her other foot against
his shoulder and easily pushed him off-balance and onto his back. Before he could regain
his balance, Chelsea was on top of him, gliding her long, natural fingernails down both
sides of his face. Her soft, wet lips engulfed his in a honey-sweet kiss that made him
tingle all over. The room seemed to spin, and Chelseas hot tongue drove past his lips
and deep into his mouth. His head filled with the sound of Chelseas nails gently
stroking his face, and before he knew what was happening, he was naked and so was she.
Her nails moved to his chest and back, raking him harder now. He heard Chelsea gasp
and felt her teeth bite into his neck as she impaled her wet, steaming-hot pussy on his
huge, rock-hard cock. Chelseas lips were once again on his, and he reeled from her
delicious kiss. Steve felt her tug him sideways, and in a moment he was on top of her,
grunting like an animal and thrusting like a battering ram. Chelsea screamed and sucked
furiously on his neck as she came, and she raked her one inch-long fingernails across his back
in rhythm to his pumping. It quickly brought Steve to the brink of cumming, and as
Chelsea sensed this, she bit his shoulder and dug her nails into his neck and hissed, "Not
yet!" Steve slowed his thrusting, and Chelsea moaned with pleasure. Steve was
exceptionally huge and Chelsea was capable of climaxing multiple times, so she had no
intention of allowing the sex to end before she was completely satisfied. Steve had never
been with a woman as sexy and aggressive and responsive as Chelsea, and he too was all
in it to prolong the pleasure as much as he could. One after another, Steve sucked
Chelseas nipples into his mouth as they fucked. Chelsea alternated deep, penetrating
kisses with sucking and biting his lips, relentlessly scoring his back and shoulders with
her incredible long fingernails. Each time Chelsea came she screamed louder and bit and
scratched harder. Chelsea tightened her toned legs around Steve in a crushing grip and
began thrusting her hips against him harder and faster. He moaned loudly with pleasured
astonishment as he realized he was feeling her dragging her longish toenails up and down
the back of his thighs and digging them into his asscheeks. Chelseas final climax lasted
almost a full minute, and near the end she allowed Steve over the edge. It was the longest
and most mind-blowing climax of his life. Heaving for air, Steve looked down at
Chelsea, his softening dick still inside her, and saw the myriad red tracks that criscrossed
his chest and arms. "Oh my God," he cried, "Y-you scratched the shit out of me! And
you made me cheat on my wife!" Chelsea moaned and cried, "Oh God!" What hed said
had given her yet another orgasm. Slowly Chelsea crawled onto her bed, dragging the
covers over her as she did. Curled in the fetal position, she closed her eyes. Steve got to
his knees and began gathering up his clothes. "Um…Chelsea?" he asked. Chelsea barely
opened her eyes. "Huh? What?" she asked, half asleep and slightly annoyed. "Where do
we…ah…go from here?" Steve asked her. "I go to sleep," she yawned, turning her back
to him, "and you go…wherever it is you have to go next." Steve wasnt an idiot, he got
her meaning loud and clear, and without another word he slipped out into the living
room, dressed himself, and left.
Chelsea woke up a couple hours later and took a shower. She slithered into a tight,
flowery wraparound skirt and a low-cut sleeveless top, stepped into her strappy sandals
and headed out to do some shopping in the little college town. As she closed her door
behind her, a man was coming out of the apartment next door, carrying a bag of rubbish.
He looked mid-30s, tall and athletic, with touseled sandy-brown hair and a few days of
scruffy beard. He was wearing tight jeans and an open-necked polo shirt that revealed a
thick mat of chest hair. Chelsea felt herself getting aroused. She smiled at him. "Hi, Im
Chelsea," she said sweetly, offering him her hand. "Sam," he said, shaking her hand but
looking down at their feet. "Do you like my pedicure?" Chelsea said, slowly wiggling
her perfect toes with their ten red-polished slightly-long toenails, "Its ok if my feet turn
you on more than my face. As long as something about me turns you on..." Sam looked
her in the eye and she saw profound sadness. "My wife died last year, and Im not ready
to…" he began. "Oh my God, I didnt know," Chelsea said, for a moment taken aback,
but just as quickly realizing that this could be the most challenging and exciting pursuit
and conquest of her life. Just then a little blond-haired girl appeared in the doorway and
looked up at Sam. "This is my daughter, Jenny," Sam said, gathering the little girl to his
side. "Hi Jenny," Chelsea said, stroking the little girls hair. "Hi," Jenny said shyly, and
when she looked sideways at Chelseas hand, her eyes opened wide and she exclaimed,
"Your nails are reeeeeallllly long!" "Do you like them?" Chelsea asked eagerly.
"Theyre awesome!" Jenny gushed, and looking up at her father she added, "I want long
fingernails." Sam scowled, "Eight is too young to have nails." Chelsea looked puzzled.
"Ive had long nails since I was like four. By the time I was eight I had them like, this
long," she offered, laying one of her nails across another at about the half-inch length.
Jenny said, "See Daddy! Im not too young to grow long nails!" Sam looked at Chelsea
and said, "Thanks for helping." "Youre welcome," she said earnestly, oblivious to his
sarcasm, and she walked down the stairs. Chelsea, who never wore panties, felt a drop of
her juices trickle down her inner thigh. She licked her lips and admired her ten perfect
one-inch natural fingernails and fantasized about the moment Sam would succumb to her
irresistible seduction.
CHAPTER TWO…
Chelsea strolled down the main street of the little college town, her head held high. She
was aware that everyone she passed, male and female, was compelled to check her out.
Invariably their eyes would be drawn to her incredibly beautiful long fingernails, and she
would smile inwardly. She pitied all the short or fat or old or otherwise unattractive men,
who would never know the ecstasy of even her slightest touch. She basked in the despair
of all the women who envied her feminine perfection. Chelsea especially relished
passing attractive couples on the street, and the silent, telepathic acknowledgment
between her and the women, that should the whim strike, she could easily seduce their
boyfriends or husbands…and most likely the women themselves.
Suddenly as Chelsea approached Starbucks, she spied a mane of shiny black hair draped
over the back of an outdoor chair, almost down to the pavement. She knew it could only
be Genevieve, her friend/lover from her freshman year in the dorm. Most of the many
hundreds of sexual encounters Chelsea had had over the past few years were one-time
affairs, and even those that lasted longer had all ended due to boredom, including those
with her professors, her therapist and his wife, daughter and son. The one exception was
Genevieve, whom Chelsea had decided she would choose as a lover if she had to be
marooned for life on a desert island with only one other person. Chelsea found
Genevieves tiny body and exceptionally long black hair quite attractive, along with her
very submissive personality. Moreover, Genevieve had tiny hands and very long, tapered
fingernails with which she had learned to give Chelsea unbelievable sexual pleasure.
Genevieve continued to stay on Chelseas mind despite not having seen her in more than
a year, and spotting her sitting there made Chelseas toes curl with excitement and her
pussy wet with desire.
Chelsea slipped her hands under Genevieves chin from behind and tilted her head back.
A startled Genevieve opened her eyes wide just as Chelseas eyes closed and her lips
sealed over Genevieves in a deep, passionate kiss. Initially Genevieve struggled and
whined but within seconds she was overcome, and their kiss lasted nearly a minute. "So,
whats up?" Chelsea said, sitting down in the next chair, oblivious to the gape-mouthed
stares of the other patrons, to say nothing of the young man seated at the table across
from Genevieve. "Uh…um…n-not m-much," Genevieve said meekly, her face beet red,
trying to avoid looking at her male companion. "Hi," Chelsea said brightly, extending
her hand across the table. "Im Adam," he squeaked, barely able to get the words out.
"Im Eve," Chelsea said. "Really?" Adam said. "No, not really," Chelsea said, "Im
Chelsea." The young man blushed red and stared at Chelseas hand. He was visibly
shaking. "Oh my God," Chelsea said to Genevieve in a loud stage-whisper, stroking her
hand, "Hes like, totally got a fetish for long fingernails." Adam instantly went beet-red
again. Genevieves nails were only a half-inch long, but her hands were very small, and
the nails were tapered and polished dark red. Chelsea brought Genevieves hand up to
her own face and stroked herself with Genevieves nails. "Its ok, Adam," Chelsea said
compassionately, "Im, like, totally into long nails too." And she put Genevieves fingers
in her mouth and sucked them slowly, as if they were coated with chocolate. Under the
table, Chelsea slipped her foot out of her sandal and placed it in Adams lap. She grasped
his hardon through his pants, and after a second of kneading him with her toes he came,
shuddering and rolling his eyes.
"Ive missed you," Chelsea said to Genevieve with a sad, pleading look. "Things have
been kind of rough back home," Genevieve said, trying to pretend she hadnt noticed
Adams distress and embarrassment. "Your family seemed so together when you invited
me down for Thanksgiving break year before last," Chelsea said. "Its weird, but like by
Christmas both of my brothers had suddenly separated from their wives," Genevieve said,
"and my parents…they seem like they cant even look at each other anymore." "Weird,"
Chelsea said, averting Genevieves eyes momentarily, then she changed the subject, "I
have my own apartment this year!" "Oh…uh…thats cool," Genevieve said, feeling the
same anxiety and apprehension she always did in Chelseas presence. "You have to
come over sometime and…play," Chelsea said with a twinkle in her eye. Genevieve
blushed again and giggled nervously, glancing quickly at Adam. Genevieve looked at
Chelsea with a desperate, pleading expression. Chelsea took Genevieves hand and
placed it in her own lap. "I still get goosebumps when I think of what you used to do to
me with your nails," Chelsea said, then she stood up, pulling Genevieve to her feet as
well. She hugged Genevieve warmly, but suddenly she had Genevieve locked in another
dizzying kiss, and when it was over, still holding her hand, Chelsea whispered, "Lets
go," and she began to lead Genevieve away with her like a puppy on a leash. Genevieve
looked into Chelseas eyes with utter submission, and cast an apologetic look back at
Adam, who had a look of pained astonishment. Chelsea stopped and held her hand out
toward him and shouted, "Threeway!" Adam went beet-red again amid the muffled
giggles and mutterings of the other patrons, but he got up, holding a napkin over his cum-
soaked crotch, and hurried to take Chelseas other hand. "Awesome!" Chelsea
exclaimed, and she turned to an overwhelmed Genevieve and giggled, "No guy can
refuse a threeway with a couple of hot girls." "Nobody can refuse anything with you,"
Genevieve sighed. "True," Chelsea beamed.
They walked for a while and Chelsea pointed to a brand-new bright red Mercedes C-class
AMG Sport sedan. "This is me," she announced, "Daddy got it for me for my 21st
birthday." "Awesome car!" Adam blurted. "Want to drive it?" she asked him, dangling
the keyring from her one inch-long pinkie nail. "Hell yeah!" he said, taking the keys
gingerly, while staring with lust at Chelseas nails. "Ok but be careful. The only
scratches I tolerate are the ones I make with these," she said, slowly dragging her
fingernails up Adams arm. Adam got in the drivers seat and reached across to open the
passenger door for Genevieve, but Chelsea opened the rear door and pulled Genevieve in
the back seat with her. As soon as they drove off, Adam could hear them both moaning
and kissing and he looked up in the rearview mirror. Chelsea put her leg through
between the front bucket seats and stroked Adams arm playfully with her foot. "Eyes
front," she giggled. Adam stared bug-eyed at Chelseas sexy toes and she felt his arm
start to shake. "I mean it!" she scolded, scraping him quickly with her longish red
toenails as she retracted her leg. She guided Genevieves fingers to her swollen clit.
"Do me with your nails like you used to," Chelsea begged her hoarsely. Back at
Chelseas apartment the three of them hurried from the parking lot. Jenny, the 8 yr old
from across the hall, was riding her pink bicycle in front of the building. "Hi Chelsea!"
she squealed, letting her bike fall over as she ran to hug her. "Hi Jenny!" Chelsea said,
lifting her off the ground and spinning her around, "These are my friends, Adam and
Genevieve." "Hi!" Jenny said, then instantly changing the subject as children do, she
turned to Genevieve and said, "I like your nails. My daddy says Im too young to grow
my nails long but Chelsea says Im not." "How old are you?" Genevieve asked. "Eight!"
Jenny exclaimed proudly. "Well, eight is a little young for really long nails," Genevieve
began, but Chelsea cut her off. "Dont listen to her," Chelsea laughed, pointing to
Genevieve, who was barely five feet tall and had almost no curves, "You see how long
hers are, and shes only seven and a half." "Really?" Jenny cried. "Shut up Chelsea!"
Genevieve said, sticking her tongue out. "My daddy says its bad manners to say shut
up or stick your tongue out at someone," Jenny offered. "Were hoping Genevieve will
be more grown up by the time shes eight," Chelsea giggled. As the three of them
walked up to Chelseas apartment, Chelsea whispered to Genevieve, "Jennys mom died
last year." "Oh my God!" Genevieve cried, "Thats so sad." "Her dads hot," Chelsea
said. "Oh, no, Chelsea, youre not thinking about…I mean, you arent going to…"
Genevieve implored her. "I so am," Chelsea said lustfully. "But, why Chelsea?"
Genevieve asked with incredulity. Chelsea looked at her with equal incredulity and
responded, "I told you. Hes hot." In a moment the three of them were inside Chelseas
apartment, a trail of their clothes leading from the front door to the bedroom.
Around six in the evening, an exhausted Adam and Genevieve lay on Chelseas king-
size bed, sleeping soundly on their stomachs. Chelsea sat between them, carefully
touching up her amazing long fingernails with an emery board. She placed a bare foot on
each of the others naked asses and jiggled them gently until they stirred. "Anyone for
pizza?" she asked softly. "Mmmm," they both mumbled. "Is that a yes?" she asked.
"Mmm hmmm," they grunted. "I like mushrooms, sausage and pepperoni," Chelsea
announced, "You two can pick off what you dont want." And she picked up her iPhone
and placed an order for three large pizzas. Realizing she was still horny, Chelsea lay on
top of Adam and began gently caressing his back with her nails, and kissing his neck. He
groaned and pulled the pillow over his head, but Chelsea flipped him on his back and
began kissing and scratching his chest and stomach, and finally played with his balls and
licked his cock, but she couldnt get him more than halfway hard. "Unnnngh, that feels
good but Im gonna need like an hour to get it up again, Chelsea. Sorry," he said. She
immediately went to Genevieve. "Hey, whyd you stop?" Adam whined. "Are you
serious?" Chelsea laughed, and she shook Genevieve awake and made her have sex.
"The great thing about women," Chelsea said, as she moaned her way to a climax,
"Theyre always able to please."
Shortly, the door buzzer sounded. "That must be the pizzas," Chelsea said, shaking
Adam, "Get it, will you?" Adam grunted and turned over and kept sleeping.
"Genevieve? Let the pizza guy in, ok? I dont feel like getting dressed," Chelsea said,
grabbing Genevieves little ass playfully with her long nails. "I have to use the
bathroom," Genevieve said, yawning. "Oh, all right," Chelsea said, and she pulled a
long tee shirt over herself and padded on bare feet to the front door. After several
minutes, Genevieve emerged from the bathroom and put Adams shirt on, which came
down to her knees. By that time Adam was awake and pulled his pants on. "Wheres
Chelsea?" he asked. "The pizza came and she went to get the door," Genevieve said.
"Im starving," Adam said. "Me too," Genevieve said, and they both got up to go to the
kitchen. They stopped in their tracks at the entrance to the living room and their jaws
dropped when they saw Chelseas arms and legs wrapped around the naked body of the
pizza delivery guy, raking his back with her one inch-long fingernails as he pounded her
furiously until they both came, screaming. As soon as she looked up and saw Genevieve
and Adam standing there, she shoved the pizza guy off of her. "Thanks," Chelsea said as
she handed the pizza guy his clothes and a handful of money, "keep the change." "Thank
YOU," the pizza guy said, stumbling into his clothes and out the door. "Youre
unbelievable," Genevieve said quietly, taking the now-cold pizza into the kitchen to
warm it up. Still naked, Chelsea sat crosslegged on the couch and motioned for Adam.
As he stood in front of her, she smiled seductively at him and reached up and gently
dragged her long fingernails slowly down his chest and stomach and as she saw the bulge
grow in his pants she quickly had them open and down around his ankles. "My God,
dont you ever get enough?" he gasped. "Not really," Chelsea said sweetly, pulling
Adam down and drowining him in her intoxicating kiss. By the time Genevieve returned
with the warm pizza, Adam was on his back on the couch, with Chelsea riding up and
down on his cock, kissing him and scratching her nails across his collarbone from his
neck to his shoulders again and again, until her moans turned to screams and she
shuddered violently and fell forward on top of him, panting for breath. "Mmmm, that
smells good," she said extending her arm without looking. Genevieve handed her a piece
of pizza and Chelsea turned on her side and devoured it. Adam took a piece and Chelsea
stroked his limp cock with her greasy pizza fingers and then licked it clean, which got
him hard again. "Eat up guys," Chelsea said as she mounted him again, "Theres plenty
more." "Whyd you order three large pizzas?" Genevieve asked. Chelsea smiled and,
still riding Adams cock, pulled a bag of joints from a small wooden box that was under
the couch. "The partys just starting," she laughed, as she motioned Genevieve to light
her a joint. Chelsea took a long hit and sealed her mouth over Adams and exhaled to fill
his lungs with the smoke. After she and Adam came, Chelsea immediately began
passionately kissing Genevieve and then got her stoned like shed done to Adam.
Chelsea dug her fingernails gently into Genevieves thighs and spread her legs enough to
bury her face between them.
Chelsea seemed to get stronger and wilder the more sex she had, while Adam and
Genevieve became more and more exhausted as the hours went by. Their muscles were
sore and stiff, and they were both starting to get a little raw. Yet it took Chelsea only one
gentle scratch with her long fingernails, sometimes along with one of her honey-sweet
passionate kisses, to make them burn with desire for her, like two love-slaves captive to
her irresistible power of seduction. By midnight, though Chelseas incredible nails and
lips made Adam frantic with lust, his cock simply refused to get hard. He looked
mournfully at Chelsea and apologized and said he was done. "I say when youre done,"
Chelsea said, rifling in her nightstand drawer. She brought out a pill bottle and placed a
little blue pill in Adams hand. "Here," she commanded urgently, "Take it." "Is that what
I think it is?" he asked. Chelsea raised Adams hand to his mouth and made him swallow
the pill. "Now lie back and wait," she smiled, and she made slow, erotic love to
Genevieve while Adam watched. After she left Genevieve lying in a heap, panting for
air, Chelsea began slowly making out with Adam, teasing every inch of his body with her
long, clear fingernails, describing to him what she was going to do just as she was about
to do it. "You wont believe what I can do to you with my toes," she whispered into his
ear as she drove her tongue deep inside it. "Genevieve, you have to see this," she said,
prodding Genevieve to sit up, "So youll know how to do it later." "Cool," Genevieve
said, propping the pillows up against the headboard and watching intently. As Chelsea
gently raked Adams arms with her long fingernails, he felt her toes encapsulate his balls
and roll them around and around slowly, then faster and faster. Adam realized he was
rock-hard. Chelsea smiled and moved so he could see, and she whispered, "I want you to
watch." She grasped the very base of his cock between her big toe and second toe and
squeezed it. Then with her other foot she curled her long toes around his shaft and
stroked him up and down. Very, very gently, and excruciatingly slowly. Her toes were
soft as silk, and needed no lubrication to slide effortlessly along his cock, exciting every
nerve ending. Occasionally she softly scraped his shaft with the sharp edges of her
longish red toenails, or dug them gently into his cockhead, or used her toenails to tease
his most sensitive place just under the rim. Chelsea laughed a musical, sexy laugh and
kissed and nibbled his neck as she talked quietly about how much she knew he was
enjoying this, and how she was going to keep him going for hours, not letting him cum.
Each time she saw his balls tighten and heard his breathing get ragged, she would stop
stroking him and tighten the grip her other toes had at the base of his cock, until she was
sure the urge to cum had passed. "I could make you cum any time I want," Chelsea said
in a soothing, sexy voice, "But I dont want to. I wont let you cum even if you beg me.
And you will beg, trust me. Youll beg me to let you cum, but I love the feel of your
smooth, hot cock under my velvet-soft toes. And I love the feel of scraping your rock-
hard cock with my long, sharp, red toenails." Adam was whimpering like a baby, and
Genevieve looked with awe as tears ran down his cheeks. "You try," Chelsea said to
Genevieve, "Dont worry, Ill keep my toes around his dick so he cant cum. You can
use all ten of your little toes to drive him insane." Genevieve wrapped her toes around
Adams cock and began stroking it like Chelsea had done. She had tiny toes but they
were long and she could wrap them halfway around, so with both feet she had his entire
cock encircled. "Gently, dont squeeze," Chelsea instructed her, "Just barely touch him
while you slide your toes up and down, very slowly. Genevieve was a quick learner, and
she leaned over to her whimpering, sobbing, boyfriend and asked him innocently if he
liked her toes as much as Chelseas. Adam begged her to let him cum, and she kissed
him softly on his cheek and sweetly said, "No." While Genevieve kept stroking him,
Chelsea ever-so-lightly drew her silken-soft sole slowly back and forth across the tip of
Adams cock, pausing momentarily to tease his pee-hole with the tip of her pinkie-
toenail. Both she and Genevieve rested their heads on either side of Adams, taking turns
whispering sexy teases into his ears and kissing, licking and nibbling on them. They
were also taking turns kissing his lips passionately, and teasing his nipples with their long
fingernails. Genevieve took her cues from Chelsea, doing to Adam whatever Chelsea
did. When Chelsea wasnt caressing his cock-tip with her foot, she stroked his legs and
scraped them with her toenails, and fondled his balls with her toes. Once in a while
Chelsea would ask Genevieve quietly, "Kiss?" and they would raise their heads above
Adams eyes and lean together and kiss passionately, so that Adam could see their soft,
wet lips hungrily engulf each other and their tongues probe frantically into each others
mouths. Adam was shaking so hard the entire bed was shaking, and he was heaving sighs
almost to the point of hyperventilating.
Finally around four in the morning, Genevieves muscles were so fatigued that she could
barely move her toes, and Chelsea was starting to yawn, more from boredom than
tiredness, but the night was winding down for her. She told Genevieve to get ready to
squeeze the base of Adams cock between her fingers as she withdrew her toes.
"Squeeze tight and dont let go until I say so…ok?" Chelsea said. "Ok I guess,"
Genevieve yawned. "I mean it, dont fall asleep and let go or youll end up doing me
yourself," Chelsea warned her. "Dont worry!" Genevieve said, coming more awake at
the thought of having to suffer yet another round of vigorous sex with Chelsea that night.
With Adams cock secured from cumming by Genevieves squeezing fingers, Chelsea
mounted him and rode him slowly, then faster and faster until she shuddered and sighed
loudly. She relaxed slightly and Genevieve asked, "Now?" "No!" Chelsea cried, "Dont
let go until I tell you! Im so not done yet!" And Chelsea leaned forward and smothered
the shaking, whimpering Adam with her honey-sweet wet, probing kiss, then she raked
her long fingernails down his chest and stomach as she sat back up and began riding him
again, to another thunderous orgasm. And another, and another. Raking him with her
one inch-long fingernails, biting and sucking his nipples, driving her hot tongue deep into his
mouth, more scratching with her incredibly beautiful nails, thrusting her hips against him,
rivers of her juices flooding over Genevieves little hand still dutifully squeezing the base
of his cock so he couldnt cum. Each of Chelseas orgasms seemed to get stronger than
the one before. Her lust and energy seemed to feed on each preceding climax and she
grew wilder as her orgasms came faster and harder. "My hand is cramping Chels,"
Genevieve cried, "I dont think I can hold on to him much longer." Wild with lust,
Chelsea grabbed Genevieves arm, sinking her long fingernails in hard, and Genevieve
screamed. Chelsea was so overcome with lust that she wasnt even aware of what she
was doing or how hard she was digging her nails into Genevieve. She continued riding
Adams cock like a rodeo bull to two more explosive orgasms, and then she let go of
Genevieves arm and panted, "Ok, now." Genevieve immediately pulled her hand away
and rubbed the five bleeding semi-circle cuts in her little arm, meanwhile Adam
screamed out long and loud as he finally came, and then he passed out. Chelsea kissed
him quickly on the forehead and giggled. She looked over at Genevieve and gasped.
"Oh my God!" she cried, seeing the cuts on Genevieves arm, "Did I do that? Oh my
God! Im so sorry! I cant believe I scratched you like that!" And she took Genevieves
wounded arm and began kissing it, then she dragged her to the bathroom and washed it
with alcohol and put ointment on it . "Oh my sweet Genevieve, please forgive me!" she
pleaded. "Its ok," Genevieve said timidly. "Tell me you still love me!" Chelsea cried,
tears streaming down her face. "Of course I still love you," Genevieve said, convinced
that was the only safe response. "Come, lets get some sleep," Chelsea said, taking her
by the hand and leading her back to the king-size bed where Adam was still passed out.
Genevieve crawled in bed and pulled the covers over Adam and kissed his cheek.
Chelsea turned out the light and crawled in next to Genevieve. "Goodnight Chels,"
Genevieve whispered. "Are you sure you still love me?" Chelsea whispered. "Yes, Im
sure," Genevieve whispered. Genevieve felt Chelseas hot breath under her nose and
Chelseas soft, wet lips brush hers as she whispered, "I believe you." And then
Genevieve was again drowning in Chelseas lusty, driving kiss, and she felt Chelseas
One inch-long fingernails grasp her little clit. "Oh, Chellllssssea…," Genevieve whined.
"Shhh, you dont have to thank me," Chelsea said quietly, "Its the least I can do after
what I did to your arm." And then she brought Genevieves hand to her own pussy which
was already dripping wet, and whispered, "Do me too. With your gorgeous long red
nails."
Chelsea opened her eyes slowly at noon and looked around. She was alone in bed, and
she called out for Genevieve and Adam but there was no answer. She spotted a little note
scribbled on a scrap of paper propped against her alarm clock. It read We had to get to
class. Didnt want to wake you. We took the bus back to campus. Love you. XOXO,
Genevieve. "Shit," Chelsea muttered to herself. She longed for Genevieve, and Chelsea
hated having those feelings for anyone. She plodded to the bathroom and took a long,
hot shower, pulled a long tee-shirt over herself and got a yogurt from the refrigerator.
Chelsea opened the sliding glass door and stepped out onto the balcony. It was sunny,
and a warm breeze was blowing. She looked over and Sam was sitting on his balcony,
which adjoined hers, typing on his laptop. Chelsea wanted to climb over the rail and
ravish him. "Hi," she said sweetly. Sam looked up, startled. "Hi," he said politely, "You
dont have class today?" "Not until four," she said. Trying to make it to class before two
in the afternoon was something Chelsea had realized, back in her freshman year, that she
was not cut out for. "Your day off?" she enquired. "No…I work from home," Sam
replied. "What do you do?" Chelsea asked, leaning over the rail as far as she could to get
a look at his laptop screen. "Im a software engineer," Sam said. Chelsea was wearing
nothing but the thin tee-shirt, and in the sunlight Sam could see the clear outline of her
perfect body. Her tee-shirt was wet from her dripping hair, and her large areolas and
hard, prominent nipples showed through with transparent detail. Chelseas red-polished
toes were curled around the iron balcony rail and she was stroking it absently, slowly up
and down. "Im distracting you," Chelsea said. Sam blushed slightly. "None of the guys
I know will study with me because I distract them," she said. "Youre not distracting
me," Sam said kindly. "Oh, well, thats good," Chelsea said, peeling off the top of the
yogurt cup, "I would hate to disturb your work." Sam smiled at her and she smiled back.
Keeping his eyes fixed on hers, Chelsea slowly scooped a finger into the yogurt and
sensually licked it from her incredibly long fingernail. Sams eyes widened. She
scooped another fingerful of yogurt and gracefully turned her hand palm-up and extended
her yogurt-covered fingernail toward him. "Taste?" she asked sweetly. Sam declined,
and Chelsea pouted, then she slowly licked her nail clean with a slurp. She couldnt see
under his balcony table, whether shed gotten him hard. But he made an excuse that he
needed to go inside, and when he got up he held his laptop in front of his crotch, so she
assumed he had an erection. To Sams evident discomfort, when he returned several
minutes later, Chelsea was still there. She was sitting down, with her feet crossed at the
ankles, propped up on the rail separating their balconies. She could see Sam glancing at
her feet out of the corner of his eye, and she slowly wiggled her toes. She knew Sam
could see her soft, pink, wrinkled soles, and the sunlight shining through the tips of her
red-polished toenails peeking past the ends of her perfect toes. "Will you rub my feet?"
she asked in an innocent little-girl voice. Sam was startled by her request and stammered
a bit. "They dont smell, I promise. I just took a shower," she said. "I really have to
work," Sam said. "Oh. Ok," Chelsea said, "Youre missing a great experience though.
My feet are like, soooo soft." Sam chuckled nervously. "Dont worry," Chelsea said
brightly, "Ill give you another chance sometime." And she leaned forward and grasped
her feet and began sensually massaging them herself. Her feet were still on the balcony
rail at Sams eye level, and her knees were bent so she could reach her toes. Sam turned
bright red and gasped out loud as he found himself looking straight into her glistening
pussy. "Im sorry, did I embarrass you?" Chelsea asked, crossing her legs demurely.
"Uh…n-no…I mean…," Sam fumbled for words, "Its ok…I mean, hey, if anyone would
be embarrassed it would be you. Youre the one who forgot you werent wearing
panties." Rising from her chair, Chelsea smiled at him. "Im not embarrassed at all,"
she said quietly, and as she turned to go back into her apartment she added, clicking her
long nails on the glass door, "And anyway, I never wear panties."
CHAPTER THREE…
Chelsea dressed for class and drove to campus. She decided to stay there for dinner and
spend a couple hours in the graduate library, hoping to pick up a hot, married grad
student. Nobody caught her eye though, so she texted Genevieve to meet her downstairs
in front of her dorm. Genevieve texted back that she had a test the next day and had to
study. Chelsea texted back that she would be there in ten minutes and insisted Genevieve
be waiting when she got there. Genevieve had no desire to find out the consequences of
refusing Chelsea, so when Chelseas little red Mercedes pulled up in front of the dorm,
Genevieve was there by the curb, and she got into the front seat. Chelseas long,
passionate kiss left Genevieve breathless, and as Chelsea hit the gas she grabbed
Genevieves little thigh firmly with her nails and said, "You like, totally have to come be
my roommate." "You mean, move out of the dorm and into your apartment?" Genevieve
asked. "Totally!" Chelsea exclaimed, "Adam can bring all your stuff over tomorrow!"
"My parents wouldnt let me live off-campus," Genevieve said. "They dont have to
know," Chelsea said. "But I couldnt afford to pay half your rent," Genevieve said.
"Who cares? Daddys paying the rent and hes rich," Chelsea giggled. "I dont have a
car," Genevieve said. "I do," Chelsea said, "You can drive it any time I dont need it.
And theres a bus to campus from right across the street." "Ok, well but…," Genevieve
started. Chelsea quickly pulled to the side of the street and stopped the car. "If you dont
want to be my roommate just say so," Chelsea said through clenched teeth, her eyes
narrowed and seething with fire. Genevieve was terrified. "S-sure I d-do. Of c-course I
want to b-be your roommate," Genevieve cried, trembling. Chelseas face instantly
softened, and rivers of tears cascaded down her beautiful cheeks. "Tell me you love me,"
she pleaded with Genevieve. "I d-do," Genevieve squeaked timidly. Chelsea took
Genevieves face tenderly in her hands and kissed her and hugged her tightly. Scratching
Genevieves back softly with her long nails, Chelsea giggled and squealed, "Its gonna be
so awesome!" Chelsea pulled back into traffic and drove quickly back to her apartment,
and she dragged Genevieve running up the stairs and into the bedroom. "Your nails are
like, totally amazing," Chelsea said, kissing Genevieves little hands and ushering them
between her legs. That night Chelsea held Genevieve tight while they slept, so she
couldnt slip out again without waking her. In the morning, Chelsea opened her eyes and
saw Genevieves sweet face next to her, and she hugged her and kissed her and made
love to her. "Oh my God, I have a test in two hours!" Genevieve cried, "And I never
studied for it." "Youll ace it, you know you will, you always do," Chelsea laughed,
handing her her car keys, "Here, take it. You can load it up with all your stuff from the
dorm after class." "I need a shower," Genevieve said, sniffing her armpits. Chelsea
silently pointed a long fingernail toward the bathroom. When she heard the water
running and the shower door slide shut, she quickly ran to the bathroom and got into the
shower with Genevieve. "Remember the very first time we met, it was in the shower?"
Chelsea said, "I picked you up…like this." Chelsea effortlessly lifted Genevieves tiny
body, and Genevieve wrapped her legs around Chelseas waist just like she did that first
time. "Mmmmmm, scratch my back with your long, red nails," Chelsea purred,
burrowing her tongue into Genevieves mouth.
Chelsea saw Genevieve to the door and blew her a kiss as she stepped lightly down the
stairs. The door to the next apartment opened and Sam bent down to pick up his
newspaper. "Hi," Chelsea said warmly. "Hi Chelsea," Sam said. The aroma of fresh
coffee wafted out from his apartment and Chelsea said, "Ohhh, that coffee really smells
great," and she fixed her gaze into his eyes until he finally said, "Would you like a cup?"
"Ok!" she said cheerfully, and breezed past him into his apartment. She did a pirouette
and remarked how nice everything looked. "Its all rented furniture," he said, "After my
wife died I sold everything, the house, the furniture, everything. Then we moved here to
this town. A completely fresh start." "I hope you let Jenny keep something that was her
moms," Chelsea said, "Its like, so important for her. Now, and later." Sam looked at
her with rage in his eyes. "What do you know about…," he began. "My mom died when
I was eleven," Chelsea said quietly, "Im an only child like Jenny. And my Dad got rid
of everything that reminded him of my mom, and never talked about her with me." "Im
sorry, I didnt know. Im sorry I snapped at you," Sam said. He put his hand on
Chelseas shoulder. She put her hand on his and moved closer to him. "Its ok," she
said, "It was a long time ago. Im fine now. Totally fine." And she looked into his eyes
and her tears started to flow. Sam clasped her to him and she sobbed, and Chelsea
realized Sam was sobbing too. She also realized she was very turned on, feeling his
strong, warm body against hers, clad only in her tissue-thin tee-shirt. She could clearly
feel the enormous bulge in his shorts press against her. In an instant she was clutching
his neck lightly with the long, clear fingernails of one hand, and caressing his stubbly
cheek with the others, and with half-closed eyes and half-open mouth she brought her lips
to his. Suddenly, but gently, Sam pushed her away. "Im sorry," he said. "No, Im
sorry," Chelsea said softly. Inside her head she was repeating Shit! Fuck! God dammit!
Another half a second, another fraction of an inch, and I wouldve had him!
"I should go," Chelsea said. "No, please, dont," Sam pleaded, "Have some coffee.
Please." "Ok," she said. Sam poured them each a cup, and they sat on the couch. "I get
it, I really do," Chelsea said, "A year isnt very long. But my Dads still like you are, and
its been ten years. Dont do that to yourself, ok?" "Ill try not to," Sam said. "I mean, I
know you arent gonna be ready for like, a relationship for a while," Chelsea said very
seriously, then she smiled and added, "But if you ever just want to like, you know, have
awesome sex with no strings…" Sam blushed, "Nothing embarrasses you, does it!" "I
know you have urges," Chelsea said, and she giggled, "I felt one a minute ago." "You
know, Im not sure Im comfortable having this discussion," Sam said. Chelsea smiled at
Sam and softly said, "I know you jerk off. Believe me, itll feel a lot nicer with my hand
than yours." As she said it Chelsea gently scraped her nails across the tent that rose from
his shorts, and she heard Sam exhale sharply. "My nails are incredible. Wait till you feel
them on your dick," she whispered, gently unbuttoning his shorts and sliding the zipper
down, while stroking his arm with her other nails. "N-no s-strings," Sam said hoarsely.
"No strings," Chelsea whispered, laying her head against his chest as she worked his cock
and balls free and began slowly caressing and stroking him with her silken-soft fingers
and long, lovely nails. Sam felt her hand go up under his shirt and scratch his chest
through his thick hair, and suddenly realized it was her toes that were now caressing and
milking his throbbing cock. "My toes are amazing arent they," she whispered. "Sweet
Jesus God," Sam gasped, seeing her long toes grasp his shaft, and watching as she
scraped it lightly with her bright-red longish toenails. Chelsea slid her hand up to Sams
shoulder and grasped his collarbone and swung her leg over him and lowered her hot,
dripping pussy onto his cock. Sam cried, "Wait! I thought you were only going to give
me a handj…" but in a millisecond he was swooning from Chelseas honey-sweet,
intoxicating kiss, her warm tender lips and hot swirling tongue sucking every vestige of
willpower and resistance from the depths of his soul.
"Jenny is awesome," Chelsea said, raking her long nails through Sams chest hair, in the
afterglow of an hour of mind-blowing, multi-orgasmic sex. "Yes, she is," Sam said.
Chelsea asked, "When does she get home from school?" Sam looked at his watch. "Oh
jeez! About fifteen minutes!" he exclaimed. "Thats a little tight but I think I can make
it," Chelsea smiled, overtaking Sam with another of her dizzying kisses and feeling his
cock harden to the touch of her one inch-long fingernails. Sam was still breathless and
sweating from having just cum again, as they heard the door latch turn and he hurriedly
zipped and buttoned his clothes. "Hi Daddy, Im home!" Jenny yelled, dropping her
backpack on the floor and racing into the living room. Sam knelt on one knee and spread
his arms for her, but suddenly Jennys eyes widened and a huge smile spread across her
face and she screeched "Chelsea!" and ran to her and hugged her and started chattering
about what she did in school. "Dont I get a hug?" Sam said finally. Jenny hugged her
father, and then she asked, "Can Chelsea stay for dinner?" "I have to go to class
sweetie," Chelsea said. Jenny frowned. "What time do you go to bed?" Chelsea asked.
"Nine thirty," Jenny answered. "Ahem!" Sam said. "I mean nine," Jenny said
sheepishly. "Well if Im back by nine Ill stop by and tuck you in bed, ok?" Chelsea said.
"Ok!" Jenny said, and she went skipping off to her bedroom. "Thank you. Its really
sweet of you," Sam said to Chelsea. "Maybe Ill tuck you in too," Chelsea said with a
wink as she left.
CHAPTER FOUR…
Chelseas class was taught by a young graduate student named Chad. It was a small class
and everyone sat around a conference table, with Chad at the head. Chelsea arrived late
and everyone was already seated, and there werent any more empty places around the
table. There was an empty chair against the wall, and as Chelsea went to get it, a couple
of guys started moving to make room for her between them. But Chelsea slid the chair
right up next to Chad. A plain-looking girl sitting at the end of the table next to Chelsea
muttered, "Teachers Pet," and everyone laughed. Chelsea pretended to laugh with them
but she whispered in the girls ear, "Watch me make the teacher MY pet." The plain girl
rolled her eyes and went, "Yeah right." Chelsea accidentally dropped her pen on the
floor, and as she bent down to retrieve it she steadied herself by gently grasping Chads
shoulder. He looked at her quickly, unavoidably staring straight down her cleavage,
watching in amazement as her large nipples hardened before his eyes. As she let go of
his shoulder she "accidentally" scraped his upper arm quickly with her nails. "Oh gosh,
did I scratch you?" she exclaimed. "Im ok," he said, checking the white streaks on his
arm. "Im really sorry," Chelsea said, rubbing the marks on his arm with her thumb.
Gracefully curving and waving her fingers she said softly, "My fingernails are reaalllly
long. And sooo sharp. I hate it whenever I scratch a guy…accidentally." Chelsea could
see his brow start to glisten. "I feel really bad," Chelsea said, "Here, does this make it
stop burning?" And she licked the marks on his arm and softly blew on the wetness. "L-
lets get on with class now, ok?" Chad said hoarsely. "Ok," Chelsea said sweetly. And
she cast a quick glance and a wink at the plain girl, who was seething with contempt and
envy.
After class, Chelsea stopped Chad and apologized again and said, "Please, let me buy you
a cup of coffee or something." "Thats ok," he said, "I have to get home, my fiance is
expecting me." Of course, the effect on Chelsea of him mentioning his fiance was the
opposite of his intention in doing so. "You might want to wait a couple hours for those
scratches to fade, then you wont have to explain them to your fiance," Chelsea said with
a twinkle. Chad looked quickly at his arm and then sighed with relief, "Naw, theyre
practically gone." Chelsea bit her lower lip. And then suddenly she swiped her nails
across his arm again. "Oww!" Chad cried, "What the hells your problem? Are you
insane?" Chad stared at the new marks on his arm, which this time were red and raised.
"Why do you hate me?" Chelsea screamed, and copious tears started pouring out of her
huge hazel eyes and cascading down her beautiful cheeks. People stopped and stared at
Chad as if he were some kind of abuser. He wanted to de-fuse the scene shed made, so
he smiled at Chelsea and took her gently by the hand and started walking her down the
hallway. "Starbucks?" she asked brightly.
At Starbucks, Chad set his coffee down at an empty table, but Chelsea walked over to a
soft couch and sat down and patted the cushion next to her. Chad motioned her to the
table, but he saw Chelsea looked like she was going to start crying again, and he quickly
started toward her. Instantly her expression changed to cheerful. Chad sat down next to
her. Chelsea leaned over and planted a wet kiss on the scratches shed made on his arm,
then she blew on the wetness again to cool him. "Ive never done anything like that to a
guy before, just to get him to go out with me," she said. "Im such a lucky guy," Chad
said. "Totally!" Chelsea exclaimed, without the remotest consideration that he meant it
sarcastically. Chad took a deep breath and turned to Chelsea and began, "Chelsea, please
dont take this personally…I mean, I think youre really hot…but I have to say it again: I
have a fiance. Im very committed to the relationship, I would never cheat on her, and
so Im not interested in dating you. Are you hearing and understanding me clearly?"
Chelsea nodded, then she looked up with a smile and said brightly, "You think Im really
hot!"
Chad sighed, "I really have to go." "Could you do me one little favor?" Chelsea asked.
"Sure," he said, immediately regretting he didnt first ask what. "I loaned my car to my
BFF…could you drive me home?" she asked. "Chelsea," he began to protest. "Its dark
out…Im afraid to take the bus…please?" she pleaded. "Ok, fine," Chad said, and he
texted his fiance that he would be a little late. They walked to the staff parking lot
together, and Chad stopped behind a beautifully-restored VW microbus. "Oh my God!
Is this yours?" Chelsea asked. "Yup," he said, "Dorky, right?" "Its so not dorky!"
Chelsea exclaimed, "Its like, totally awesomely cool!" Chad chuckled at her
exuberance, though he doubted she knew a hubcap from a tailpipe. "Its a 67, right?"
she asked. "Im impressed!" Chad cried, but then he smiled and wagged his finger at her,
"Good guess". Chelsea smiled. "The 68s were a totally different body, and the 66
didnt have this shape trim around the headlights," she said, clicking her one inch-long
fingernails on the chrome rings. Chads jaw dropped. Chelsea came close to him and put
her hands on his shoulders and whispered, "Now tell me again how hot I am." Chad
looked into her soft hazel eyes. He could feel himself lean back, pressed against the van,
and Chelseas hands slid past his shoulders and around his neck. He felt the sensation of
her fingers gently parting the hair on the back of his head, and her incredible long
fingernails scratching his scalp. He managed a weak shake of his head, and an almost
inaudible "We cant" just as Chelseas tender, sweet lips sealed over his, and her driving,
intoxicating kiss made his knees buckle. Moments later they were inside the microbus on
the blanket-covered mattress in back, a blur of legs wrapping and arms groping and
tongues licking …and Chelseas clear, one inch-long fingernails raking Chads body in
constant rhythm to their thrusting hips. It was after eight when Chelsea finally had had
enough, and an exhausted, wheezing Chad held his head in his hands. He gazed at
Chelsea with the most mournful look on his face. He implored her, "T-this was just…I
mean, it cant…I mean, it was a one-time thing, ok?" Chelsea threw her head back and
laughed, "Actually, it was three times for you…and for me? I lost count after about ten."
"Im serious!" Chad cried, "This cant ever happen again." "Wanna bet your bus?"
Chelsea asked with raised eyebrows, brushing his cock with her red-painted toes. Chad
felt himself start to get hard again and quickly said, "No. No bet." Chelsea smiled. "I
really should get home now though," she said. Chad started to get up but his legs gave
out. "Rest," Chelsea said, "Ill drive." "Can you drive a stick?" Chad asked. Chelseas
eyes narrowed to slits. "This is first," she said, wrapping her warm, soft fingers over his
cock-head and moving it forward, while pushing his chin up with her left foot, "And this
is second." "Ok, ok, I apologize for doubting," Chad gasped. "This is third," Chelsea
said, ignoring him and continuing to move his now completely erect dick around,
fondling his hypersensitive cock-head with her silky soft fingers and working his chin
with her toes as if it was a clutch. As she climbed on his rock-hard cock she leaned
forward and raked her long nails lightly along the sides of his neck and whispered, "And
this will be your fourth." And they had sex for another half hour, after which Chelsea
drove back to her apartment and went upstairs, leaving the VW bus parked on the street
with Chad naked and sound asleep in back.
Chelsea looked at her Cartier watch and saw that it was five to nine, and she went directly
to Sams door and knocked. Sam opened the door a crack. His eyes were pained, and he
started, "Chelsea, about before…" "I really enjoyed it too," she said warmly, "So theres
no need to thank me." "No, thats not...," he began. "I promised Jenny Id say goodnight
to her and its almost nine," Chelsea said, "You dont want me to disappoint her, do
you?" Sam let her in and Jenny came running out in her pajamas and into Chelseas
arms. "I knew youd come," Jenny said, laying her head against Chelseas breasts.
Chelsea stroked Jennys soft blond hair and together they went to Jennys bedroom.
Jenny climbed into bed and slid over to the edge and turned on her side, a clear signal
that she wanted Chelsea to get in with her, which she did. Jenny lay her head on
Chelseas shoulder and Chelsea put her arm around Jenny. Jenny spread all ten fingers
and said, "Look, my nails are growing!" Chelsea examined Jennys hands and smiled at
her. "Yours grow really fast, just like mine!" she exclaimed, noting that they were
already at least an eighth of an inch past her little fingertips, "And you have nice, long
nailbeds and your nails are, like, dome-shaped from left to right, not flat like some
peoples. That makes them nice and strong." Jenny beamed, "I want them reaaaaallly
long!" "Awesome!" Chelsea exclaimed. Jenny frowned, "Daddy will make me cut
them." "Leave your Daddy to me," Chelsea whispered, kissing Jenny on the forehead. "I
love you so much Chelsea," Jenny said. "Hey, Saturday Im doing my fingernails and
toenails. How about if I do yours too. Would you like that?" Chelsea said. "Oh, yes!"
Jenny gushed, and they hugged until Jenny fell asleep, dreaming about Saturday and
getting all her nails done, but mostly, about spending the day with Chelsea.
Sam was sitting on the edge of the couch when Chelsea tiptoed out of Jennys room and
quietly closed the door. She plopped herself down on the couch, and Sam turned to her
and began, "Chelsea, this…you and me…has been really sudden. I need time to adjust. I
think maybe we should slow things down a bit. Chelsea kicked off her sandals and
massaged her soft, perfect feet sensually, rubbing her long-nailed fingers between her
toes. "Im like, sooo tired," Chelsea said, blinking her eyes and yawning. That seemed
to make Sam relax his posture. Chelsea sidled up to him and put her arm around his
shoulder and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Ok, whatever," she said, "Like I said,
no strings." "Thanks for understanding," Sam said. "I told Jenny Id give her a mani-
pedi on Saturday. Thats ok with you, isnt it?" Chelsea said. "Well, since you already
promised, and shes expecting it, sure," Sam said, "But I am concerned about Jenny
getting so close to you." "Why? Whats wrong with me?" Chelsea asked, tears beginning
to well up in her huge hazel eyes. "Oh! No, nothing!" Sam assured her, "Its just that
youll graduate next year and move on, and Jenny will have lost someone else that she
loves." "It doesnt have to happen like that," Chelsea said, softly stroking Sams cheek
with the tip of her one inch-long index finger nail, and coaxing him to turn his face toward
her approaching, parted lips. Sam attempted a feeble gesture of protest, but Chelsea
spread her fingers and seized his face gently but firmly with both hands. He felt the
hardness of her long, exquisitely-sharp nails against his skin, and in an instant he was
sinking into the luxurious rapture of her hot, sweet kiss.
It was as if Sams limbs were attached to strings controlled by some spectral puppeteer,
as he felt himself compelled to his bedroom hand-in-hand with Chelsea. She undressed
him like a child, and then she undressed herself and climbed into bed with him. The
scent of her arousal intoxicated him, and the sensation of her sharp fingernails lightly
tracing small circles on his body made him shake with desire. Chelseas warm, velvet-
soft soles slowly caressed their way down his legs, and then back up again with curled
toes and the feather-light scratching of her slightly-long red polished toenails. Chelseas
hot, wet, honey-sweet kisses grew stronger and longer and each one drained more and
more of his will, until he was completely entranced. Chelsea moaned softly as she
ascended to the first of an endless progression of orgasms, each one coming faster and
stronger as she rode Sams rock-hard cock in a slow, gyrating rhythm, the raking of her
one inch-long natural fingernails growing harder and deeper with each shuddering climax.
Finally Chelsea rolled Sam on top of her, squeezing his ribs between her toned legs with
surprising strength. She sank her fingernails into the back of his shoulders and dug her
toenails into his asscheeks and he began to pump like a locomotive piston. "Tell me you
love me," she whispered. She heard him whimper a weak and breathless, "I love you,"
and she tightened her legs so much that he couldnt thrust against her. "Tell me you love
me," she repeated out loud. "I love you," Sam sobbed, "I love you. I love you," and as
Chelsea eased up on the grip of her legs and started moving her hips, matching Sams
resumed thrusting with equal fury, his climax hit like a tsunami and he shot over and over
again, screaming, "I looooovvvvve yoooouuu!!!" Suddenly there was a knock on the
door and it opened a little, and a tiny sleepy voice asked "Daddy? Are you ok?"
Sam instantly rolled off of Chelsea and hid her under the covers. "Did you have a bad
dream, Daddy?" Jenny asked, "Would you like me to come in bed with you until you fall
asleep?" Sam was gasping for air and couldnt speak, and Jenny bounded to the bed and
crawled in. He tried to hold Chelsea under the covers but she said, "Sam! I cant
breathe!" and Jenny said, "Chelsea!?" "Hi sweetie," Chelsea said, popping her head out
from under the covers and resting her chin on Sams shoulder. Sam was still breathless,
as well as mortified, and he said, "Uh, Jenny, sweetheart, you see…Chelsea was really
tired so I said she could lie down, and then she fell asleep and I didnt want to wake her
up and…" "I love Chelsea so its ok if you love her too, Daddy," Jenny said. Chelsea
lunged over Sam and grabbed Jenny and pulled her close and hugged her tightly. "Oh
my God I love you soooo much," Chelsea exclaimed, "Would you like to stay here with
us for a while?" And she held up the covers for Jenny while Sam quickly donned a pair
of pajama bottoms. Jenny kissed Chelsea and then turned toward Sam. She gently
scratched her fathers shoulder with her fingernails and whispered, "Im growing my
nails reaaaallllly long almost as long as Chelseas, ok?" "Jenny we talked about it before
and…," Sam started, but Chelsea cut him off, "Of course its ok, right Daddy?" and she
reached over and stroked Sams dick with her nails through his pajamas. He saw the look
in Chelseas determined eyes as they both felt him start to harden, and he sighed, "Ok.
But just as long as you dont hurt yourself or anyone else." Jenny turned over and put her
lips right up to Chelseas ear and whispered almost silently, "Youre awesome."
In a little while, Sam picked up sleeping Jenny and carried her back to her own room.
When he returned, Chelsea was on him instantly. Sam said, "Were going to have to
keep our voices down." "Ok," Chelsea whispered, and she very gently strummed her
long thumbnail across his peehole. Sam gasped hard and cried, "Oh Jesus." "Shhh," she
giggled. Sam said, "I should also mention that we have to be up at seven to get Jenny off
to school." Chelsea laughed softly, "We? I get up at noon." And she engulfed his mouth
with hers and rolled him on top of her, ushering his hard cock into her hot, dripping
pussy. Twice more that night Sam was awakened either by the sensation of Chelseas
kiss or her nails, and compelled to have driving, vigorous sex. Bleary-eyed after almost
no sleep, and a marathon night of exhausting lovemaking, Sam dragged himself up to the
call of the alarm clock, and stumbled to the kitchen to make breakfast for Jenny and see
her get safely on the school bus. Then he stumbled back to bed and fell asleep, after first
stopping to take a long look at Chelseas perfect body in all her nude splendor. He took
her hand and laid it across his chest. In her sleep she traced her long nails through his
chest hair, and he could feel his cock stir. He whispered, "I love you, Chelsea." And
without opening her eyes she gave his nipple a gentle scratch and climbed onto his
quickly-hardening cock, softly sucking and biting on his neck as she climaxed, and then
continued grinding herself on him until she felt him shoot. Utterly spent, Sam fell deep
asleep, awakened only momentarily several hours later by the quiet sound of the front
door opening and closing.
Chelsea stepped out into the hallway wearing only Sams shirt that shed found on the
bedroom floor, and carrying her sandals. She was startled by the sight of four large
cardboard boxes standing in front of her apartment. Lying across the top of two of them,
curled into the fetal position, was a sleeping Genevieve. The sound of Chelseas jangling
keys woke her up. "Chelsea?" Genevieve said, still groggy, "I waited for you last
night…I mustve fallen asleep." Genevieve combed her mass of knee-length black hair
out of her face. "What are you doing here?" Chelsea asked her. "Moving in. Like you
said…yesterday. Dont you remember?" Genevieve said. "Mmmmm….oh yeah,"
Chelsea said matter-of-factly as she opened the door. "If you dont want me to move
in…," Genevieve said, perplexed. "You can move in if you want," Chelsea said. "Me?
If I want?" Genevieve said, frustrated and on the brink of tears. "Ok. Itll be awesome,"
Chelsea said, already distracted by the sight of Genevieves long, delicate dark-red
polished fingernails, and feeling herself start to get wet. "Maybe we should get my stuff
inside?" Genevieve asked. "As if!" Chelsea laughed, "We might break one of our nails.
Ill get Sam to move the boxes inside later, when he wakes up." "Oh my God, Chelsea.
Youre sleeping with him already?" Genevieve asked incredulously. "Duh!" Chelsea
giggled, calling Genevieves attention to his shirt she was wearing. "Isnt it going to be
awkward?" Genevieve asked, "I mean, now that youre with Sam…I mean, me moving in
with you and…" The rest of her words were muffled by Chelseas lips sealed over hers,
and her thoughts were scrambled by the sensation of Chelseas hand burrowing inside the
front of her jeans, her nails urgently parting her pussy lips. "You think too much,"
Chelsea whispered into Genevieves ear as she drilled it with her hot tongue.
Chelseas insatiable appetite for sex and her nearly-limitless stamina could fatigue the
most athletic partner, so delicate little Genevieve was always left dehydrated and
exhausted in the wake of their lovemaking. She lay deep in sleep, on her stomach,
covered by her incredibly long black hair, and Chelsea had to shake her several times to
wake her. "Ohhhhh, Chelsea, pleeeeeease, not again! No more, I cant move!"
Genevieve whined. Chelsea had only been trying to get her up for lunch, but hearing
Genevieve protest having more sex made Chelsea instantly horny, and she flipped
Genevieve on her back and started licking her soft thighs. "Mmmmmm, Genevieve, you
know what it does to me when someone tries to resist me," Chelsea purred, raking her
one inch-long fingernails lightly down Genevieves little flat belly. Tears rolled down
Genevieves ashen face as she contemplated yet another, perhaps hour-long, olympic
sexual event. Genevieves eyes rolled back in her head as Chelseas hot tongue lapped
her pussy to orgasm, then she crawled on top of her like a reptile, licking and sucking her
tender nipples, and sealed her mouth on Genevieves and drove her tongue deep inside.
Genevieve felt Chelseas nails streak down her arm and grasp her hand, pulling it
urgently between her spread legs. Somehow Genevieve willed her stiff, aching fingers to
do one more time what she knew Chelsea craved: work her clit with her long nails until
she felt Chelseas juices flood her little hand and Chelseas fingernails clutch her back
while she shuddered and screamed and came, over and over and over. "Cmon lover,
lets eat lunch and then Ill drive you in to campus," Chelsea said brightly, hopping out of
bed a moment later, not the least bit spent.
Genevieve couldnt stand up, and Chelsea giggled and told her to rest a few minutes
while she asked Sam to come move Genevieves boxes inside the apartment. Chelsea
slipped Sams shirt back on and went next door and knocked. Sam stumbled to the door
and opened it, looking like he had run a marathon…which probably was close to the
same expenditure of energy as a night of sex with Chelsea. "Hey, I like, need you to
move those boxes into my apartment, ok?" she said. "Uh…sure, ok. Are you getting a
roommate or something?" he asked. "Uh huh, my friend Genevieve from freshman year
moved in from the dorm," she answered. "Um…dont you have a one-bedroom?" Sam
asked, puzzled. "Yeah but I have a king-size bed," Chelsea said matter-of-factly. Sam
looked at her with astonishment. Chelsea giggled, "Were like, BFFs. Girls dont have
the kind of hangups about sleeping in the same bed as guys do." "Oh. Right. Sorry, I
feel stupid," he said, "Sure, just let me get a shirt and Ill be right over." "How about this
shirt? Its yours," Chelsea said softly, as she slowly unbuttoned herself and let the shirt
fall gently from her shoulders. She caught Sams eye in her riveting gaze and sensuously
spread her long-nailed hands across her luscious, firm breasts and massaged her nipples
between her thumbs and forefingers until they quickly grew and hardened. In a moment
her nails were once again raking Sams strong, muscular back while he pistoned his hard
cock in her hot pussy. "Tell me again that you love me, and then you can cum," she
whispered into his ear, holding him motionless between her powerful, toned legs and
gently scratching her nails down his cheeks and neck. "Oh God, I love you, I love you, I
love you…Ohhhh sweet Jesus!" Sam cried, and she relaxed her legs and let him resume
pumping, and in seconds he came inside her like an explosion.
"Just put the boxes in the living room," Chelsea said to Sam as she and Genevieve left for
class. They walked out of the building and headed for the parking lot, when Genevieve
patted Chelseas shoulder and pointed toward the street. "Look at that weird-looking
thing!" she laughed. "Thats Chads microbus!" Chelsea exclaimed, and she hurried
toward it. "Whats a microbus?" Genevieve yelled as she ran after, "And whos Chad?"
"Oh my God, you dont know what a VW microbus is?" Chelsea asked, "A VW
bus…from the 60s…a hippiemobile?" "Oh wow," Genevieve said, "Sure I heard of one
but I never saw one on the street." "And Chad is the grad student who teaches the class
Im in," Chelsea added. "Does he live here?" Genevieve asked. "No…see, like, theres
this mattress in back and last night after class…," Chelsea started. "I get the idea,"
Genevieve said quietly. "Anyway, he let me drive it back here because he
was…um…like, way tired out," Chelsea continued. "I get it, Chelsea, I get it,"
Genevieve said, a little annoyed. "But I dont get it…why its still here," Chelsea said,
peeking in through the window, "Hes not inside sleeping or anything." Then Chelsea
gasped and quickly rummaged in her purse. "Oops!" she said, dangling the ignition key
from a long fingernail. "God, Chelsea! You left your professor stranded! Youre so
failing that course!" Genevieve said. "Not if he wants to feel these again," Chelsea
laughed, modelling her long, unpolished fingernails, "And you know he totally does."
Chelsea went around to the drivers door and climbed in. "Ok, Ill see you later then,"
Genevieve said, heading for the parking lot and Chelseas red Mercedes. "Hop in!"
Chelsea shouted, motioning Genevieve back. "This is so cool!" Genevieve said, looking
around inside the van. "Want to drive?" Chelsea asked. "Uhh…I dont know how to
drive a stick," she said. "Ill teach you!" Chelsea smiled. "Are you sure? I mean, after
all its not your car…," Genevieve said with trepidation. "Its like, practically mine,"
Chelsea said, tugging Genevieve to switch places with her. After a few minutes of
gnashing gears, jerky starts and sudden stalls, Genevieve gradually got the VW bus
moving. "I think the steering wheel needs oil," Genevieve said seriously. Chelsea
laughed out loud, "It doesnt have power steering." "Whats that mean?" Genevieve said,
again seriously. "It means you need to start working out," Chelsea giggled, playfully
digging her nails into Genevieves tiny bicep, "Now, shift…like this." Chelsea put her
hand on top of Genevieves on the gearshift and guided it into second gear, and then in a
while, into third. "Oh yeah, dont follow anyone too close, cause the brakes arent power
either," Chelsea warned her, hoping she had enough strength in her little leg. Other than
once forgetting to step on the clutch at a stop sign and stalling it out, Genevieve got the
hang of it quickly. "How am I doing?" Genevieve asked excitedly. "Great! You even
look sorta like a hippie girl, with your really long hair," Chelsea smiled, then she stared at
her and said lustfully, "An amazingly hot, sexy, hippie girl." Chelsea stroked her long
fingernails up and down Genvieves arm and panted, "Pull over."
CHAPTER FIVE…
"I parked it in the staff lot," Genevieve said brightly to Chad, handing him the keys to his
VW bus as she took her seat next to him at the table in class. Discreetly he pocketed the
keys, but not before the exchange caught the eye of the plain girl, whose contemptuous,
envious look delighted Chelsea. After class, Chelsea whispered, "Starbucks?" Chad
took her hand away and looked at her with a mixture of anger, sadness and indecision.
His voice breaking, Chad said, "I woke up at 3AM, the busses werent running, I had to
call my fiance to come get me on the other side of town, make up some lame story why I
was there and how I lost my keys, which she didnt believe even before we got home and
I took my shirt off and she saw all the marks from your nails, and she threw me out. She
wont even let me back to get my stuff. Im now living in my office." "You could live in
your microbus…like a hippie!" Chelsea exclaimed brightly, "I totally get off having sex
in it." Chad looked at her with disbelief and cried, "You dont get it, do you? In one
night you ripped my entire life to shreds!" "Its not my fault that Im hotter than your ex-
fiance," Chelsea said, "Just think, you couldve ended up spending the next 50 years
married to her and never known how much awesomer sex could be." "I dont even want
to have sex with you again," Chad retorted. Chelsea smiled. "Yes you do," she
whispered in his ear, tracing her warm, wet lips across his cheek to his mouth while she
lightly scratched her long, clear nails on his arm, and while her burning kiss melted the
last vestige of his resistance he felt the gentle pressure of her ten sharp fingernails
tenderly clasping his face. "Lets go for a ride," she whispered, her hand in his pocket
fishing for the keys to the microbus and stroking his raging hard-on through the fabric
with her one inch-long nails.
They ended up never leaving the staff parking lot, and after a couple hours Chelsea left
Chad passed out from exhaustion on the mattress in his van, and she texted Genevieve as
to her whereabouts. Genevieve texted back that she was studying in the library. Chelsea
texted her to meet her at the bus stop, but Genevieve texted back that she was going to
stay the night in Adams room. "Ok," Chelsea texted her. At around 11PM Genevieve
knocked several times on Adams door, and was greeted by Chelsea, holding one of
Adams shirts against the front of her naked body. "Hi," Chelsea said, "Come on in and
get naked." "Oh my God…Adam? Are you ok?" Genevieve cried, seeing her boyfriend
lying sprawled on his disheveled bed, his hair matted with sweat, wheezing hard trying to
catch his breath, and his pallid skin streaked with long pink tracks from Chelseas
fingernails. "I…wanted…to…wait for you," Adam panted, "I…begged her…to wait,
but…" "He did, Genevieve, he totally begged," Chelsea sighed, then giggled, "But you
know what that does to me." Adam struggled to sit up and he touched Genevieves arm.
"You need a shower," she said coldly, then she got up and started for the door. "Wait,
Genevieve, dont go," he cried, then he turned to Chelsea and pleaded, "Say something to
her!" Chelsea said, "Genevieve, dont be such a bitch." Adam was astounded when
instead of storming out, Genevieve turned around and sobbed, "I cant compete with you
Chelsea. Im not hot like you are." "Thanks," Chelsea said sweetly. "Aaaaagh!"
Genevieve screamed in frustration, "You take my boyfriend any time you want. You
take me any time you want…and Im not gay or even attracted to other girls. You ask me
to move in and then you leave me outside your door all night while you sleep with your
neighbor. The worst thing is, I should hate you, but instead I love you." "I know you
do," Chelsea said, opening her arms, "Hug?" Genevieve looked up as if pleading to the
heavens, then she embraced Chelseas perfect, naked body. Chelsea swept Genevieves
knee-length black hair away from her face with the backs of her exquisitely-long
fingernails and whispered, "Kiss?" Their tender, moist lips parted and their hot tongues
explored each others mouths as Chelseas hand slithered into Genevieves jeans and
rolled her little bud between her one inch-long thumbnail and middle-finger nail. "You really
do need a shower," Chelsea said, shooing Adam off as she and Genevieve crawled onto
his bed.
Chelsea had Genevieve on the brink of orgasm when she suddenly stopped and said,
"Lets go home. The busses stop running in like twenty minutes." Chelsea was dressed
in a moment and Genevieve, horny and frustrated, followed her like a hungry puppy. All
the way home on the bus, Chelsea sat across from Genevieve and gave her sultry looks,
licked her lips, and tapped and scratched her one inch-long clear fingernails on the bus seat,
keeping Genevieves desire burning. They ran upstairs and as she put her key to the lock,
making out with Genevieve and fondling her inside her jeans, Chelsea saw a note taped to
her door. It was in a young childs writing and it said Deer Chelse pleez come over my
daddys sick love Jenny. Genevieve was breathless and panting as Chelsea suddenly
walked away and went next door. The knob turned and she went in. "Sam? Jenny?" she
whispered. Jenny padded out of her room yawning and rubbing her eyes. "Daddys in
his room. His back is hurt," Jenny said sleepily. "Ok sweetie, thanks. You go back to
bed, ok?" Chelsea said, kissing Jennys cheek, and the little girl padded back to her room.
Chelsea went into Sams bedroom, where he was lying flat on his back on the bed.
"Whats up?" she asked, bouncing onto the bed on her knees. Sam gasped, "Stop!! Get
off!! Youre shaking the bed and its killing me!!" Startled, Chelsea slid off the bed. "I
mustve pulled my back out moving those boxes this morning," Sam groaned. "Oh my
God, should I like, call a doctor or something?" Chelsea asked. "No, this has happened
before," Sam said, "I just have to lie as still as possible and move as little as possible for
a few days and Ill be fine." "Ive got some Percosets for when I get my period," Chelsea
offered. "Thanks, but I took a Valium and some Motrin already," Sam said, "But there
are a couple favors you can do for me." "Like?" she asked. "Like, get Jenny off to
school in the morning," he said. "You mean like, seven oclock in the morning?"
Chelsea whined. "Sorry," Sam said. Chelsea smiled and said cheerfully, "Why not! I
just wont bother going to sleep, till after she gets on the bus. Whats the other favor?"
"Well, Jenny has a flute lesson after school tomorrow. Could you take her?" Sam asked.
"No problemo," Chelsea answered, "I can blow off class tomorrow afternoon." "Oh, no,
I wouldnt want you to do that," he said. "Really, its no big deal. The instructor and I
have like, really good relations," she said. "Great!" Sam said, blissfully unaware that
what she said was quite literally true.
"I can set the alarm for seven and call you," Sam said, "You dont have to stay up all
night." "Yeah, I do," Chelsea said, "There isnt an alarm clock or a telephone in the
world that can wake me at that hour." "Ok, well, good night," Sam said. "Good night,"
Chelsea said with a twinkle, and she leaned over him. "Please dont jostle me, ok?" Sam
said fearfully. "Ok," Chelsea said, grasping the headboard with one hand to steady
herself as she planted a tender kiss on his lips. And then another, and another. Sam
heard her breathing getting heavier and felt her kisses getting stronger. Her long nails
stroked his face and neck, and she scratched his hairy chest and scraped his sensitive
nipples. Sam gasped, "Stop! Please! It hurts if I move." "So dont move," Chelsea
panted, tossing her tee-shirt and bra on the floor and wiggling out of her tight jeans.
Chelsea never wore panties and Sam gaped at her perfect body. Chelsea flung the sheet
off of Sam and lifted one foot up to climb onto his dick, which stood straight up from his
horizontal body like a flagpole. "No! Please, I mean it!" he whined, "I cant." "I bet
you could if you really, really wanted," Chelsea said, sitting down in a leather armchair
next to the bed. Chelsea grasped her ankle and pulled her foot up to her mouth.
"Mmmmmm," she purred as she sucked and slurped her toes. She gracefully extended
her other foot out and placed it against Sams chin. "Have some, theyre delicious," she
said softly, parting his lips with her slightly-long red-painted toenails and pulling his chin
back. "Ohhhhhhh, God, that feels soooooo good," she moaned as he sucked and licked
her toes, "It doesnt hurt you to do that, does it?" "Nopppphhh," he said, his mouth full
of her soft, succulent toes. "Good," she said sweetly. With her toes in his mouth,
Chelsea turned Sams head toward her, and while she had his captive attention she draped
her other leg over the arm of the chair, and made him watch as she fingered herself with
her clear, one inch-long nails. He watched her grasp her hard, swollen bud between her index
finger nail and thumbnail and roll it around slowly, moaning softly as she did. She buried
her middle and ring fingers deep inside herself and whispered, "Ohhhhhh My
Goddddddd," as she clenched her toenails against Sams tongue and orgasmed. Sam
reached up and caressed her ankle. "Ummmm, I like that. It doesnt hurt you to do it,
does it?" she asked. "Uh uh," he grunted as she wiggled her toes around, gently scraping
the roof of his mouth with her toenails. "Good," she panted, continuing to finger herself
with her incredible long nails, to another, even stronger orgasm. Sam watched her juices
flood out around her fingers, pool under her perfect ass, and drip slowly off the edge of
the leather chair. His cock stood like a marble obelisk, hard and shiny, and his balls
began to ache.
Chelsea took her toes out of Sams mouth and very lightly traced her foot down his chest,
grasping and ploughing his chest hair, and drawing little circles around his nipples. She
scratched her toenails around on his stomach, and then she scraped them down his hip
and the top of his thigh, and then back up the inside of his thigh and back up to his
stomach. She scrunched his pubic hair between her toes and whispered, "Does any of
this hurt?" "N-no," Sam gasped. "Good," Chelsea said sweetly, "But now you have to
lie perfectly still, or else it might." And she slid her toes up his rock-hard shaft and
rubbed his shiny, swollen, hyper-sensitive cock-head, then she gently scraped the sharp
edges of her toenails down the side of his shaft and stroked the smooth tops of her
toenails back up. Sam moaned and his body flinched, and he gasped in pain. "See? I
told you to be perfectly still," she said. "S-stop," he croaked hoarsely. "Really? Do you
really want me to stop? I will you know," Chelsea said softly, caressing his throbbing
cock again with her soft, warm toes and then scraping it gently with her sharp toenails.
"N-no! D-dont s-stop!" Sam groaned. Chelsea immediately withdrew her foot, and Sam
cried, "Please! Dont stop! Oh, God, dont stop. Not now!" "But I dont want to hurt
you," Chelsea said with mock concern. Sam begged her to continue. Chelsea got on her
knees and rested her head on Sams hip, looking sweetly into his eyes. "Ok, if youre
sure," she said. Chelsea wiped her fingers through the puddle of her juices that pooled in
an indentation on the seat of the leather armchair, and she began slowly stroking Sams
cock. She fondled his balls with her other hand, and each time as she felt his nutsack
draw up and she knew he was about to cum, she slowed her stroking until his urge
subsided. "Y-youre driving me crazy," Sam moaned. "Aww, Im sorry," Chelsea said,
"Ill stop." And she did. "No! Oh my God! You cant! Please, I need to cum so bad!"
Sam sobbed. Chelsea knelt by his shoulders and scratched her long, beautiful fingernails
slowly up and down his arm. "I know how bad you need to cum," she whispered into his
ear, "I need to cum that bad, too." Then she drilled her hot, wet tongue into his ear and
clutched his face with her nails and turned his lips to her and gave him one of her head-
spinning kisses. "You see that we both need to cum, dont you?" Chelsea asked. "Y-
yes," Sam said weakly. "Awesome," Chelsea whispered, and she crawled up on the bed
and onto him, and as Sam clenched his teeth and grimmaced from the spasming pain in
his back, Chelsea lowered herself slowly and sensuously onto his rock-hard cock and
began to ride him. Slowly at first, and then with increasing speed and force. Clutching
her fingernails into his pecs and moaning louder with each thrust, Chelsea kept Sam on
the edge until shed climaxed numerous times. Finally he exploded inside her and
finished shooting his load and she went limp on top of him. "I told you you could," she
said, "You should always trust me. Do you?" "Yes," Sam sighed. "Do you love me?"
Chelsea asked. "Yes," Sam said. "Say it. I need to hear you say it," Chelsea whispered,
engulfing his lips with hers and giving him another dizzying kiss. "I love you, Chelsea,"
Sam said when the kiss ended. Chelsea felt him start to harden inside her, and she
tightened her pussy around his cock and began moving her hips gently, until he was fully
erect again. Sam grimmaced in pain as Chelsea sat up, but as soon as she started
scratching her nails down his arms and gyrating her hips, his pain was dissipated by his
ascending sexual arousal. After Sam came that time, Chelsea couldnt get him hard
again right away. Still wild with lust, she straddled his face and lowered herself down.
"Chelsea, no!" Sam insisted, "I absolutely dont eat pussy!" "You absolutely do," she
giggled, "Unless you can hop off the bed and run away."
At seven AM, still-energized Chelsea rolled off an exhausted Sam and went out to the
kitchen to get breakfast for Jenny, and to see her get on the school bus safely. "Im
coming over for a manicure and pedicure on Saturday, remember?" Jenny said to her,
"You wont forget will you?" "Of course I wont forget sweetie," Chelsea said, "Im
like, totally looking forward to it. Oh and Im taking you to your flute lesson this
afternoon, too." "Yay!" Jenny cried, and she hugged and kissed Chelsea as the school
bus pulled up to the curb. Chelsea walked back inside and went to her own apartment
and into the bedroom and flopped down on the bed next to sleeping Genevieve. Chelsea
spooned Genevieve and licked inside her ear, and brought Genevieves little hand back
between her own legs. Genevieve half-awakened and pulled away. "Im pissed at you,"
she said, "You left me all horny last night." "I promise I wont leave you horny now,"
Chelsea whispered, gently clawing her nails up Genevieves thighs and sinking her
fingers into her pussy, as she clamped her lips on Genevieves delicate neck. Chelsea
again brought Genevieves hand between her legs, and Genevieve used her long, dark-red
nails on Chelseas hard, swollen clit. "Are you still pissed at me?" Chelsea asked as she
worked her long-nailed fingers in and out of Genevieves pussy. "Nooooo," Genevieve
moaned, cresting on the edge of climax. "Do you still love me?" Chelsea asked, gently
biting Genvieves shoulder and neck, rolling Genevieves little bud between her one inch-
long thumbnail and fingernail. "Yes, yesss, yessssssss!" Genevieve screamed as wave
upon wave of bliss swept over her.
CHAPTER SIX…
Chelsea slept until three, and she was still half awake when Genevieve shook her awake.
"Jennys at the door, you have to drive her to her flute lesson," she said. "Shit," Chelsea
said, yawning, "Cant you take her?" "I have a test in an hour," Genevieve said. "Shit,"
Chelsea said again, "Ok, tell her Ill be right there." Chelsea washed herself up, brushed
her teeth and hair and put on some deodorant, and she slipped into a tee-shirt and a
wraparound skirt and stepped into a pair of flip-flops. "Hi Jenny!" Chelsea said
cheerfully, "Lets go…fluting." And they walked down to the parking lot and Chelsea
unlocked her car. "Buckle up," Chelsea said as she sat down. "I always do," Jenny said.
Chelsea reached down and pulled off her flip-flops and dropped them along with her
purse, next to Jennys feet. "How come you take your shoes off when you drive?" Jenny
asked. "I like how the pedals feel under my toes," Chelsea said, "And I like to dig them
into the carpet." "Oh," Jenny said, and she took her feet out of her clogs and dug her toes
into the carpet, "Me too." "Um…do you know where were going?" Chelsea asked.
"Here are the directions," Jenny said, handing Chelsea a Mapquest printout. "Would you
read them to me as we go?" Chelsea asked. "Ok!" Jenny said, beaming with satisfaction
that her idol, Chelsea, had entrusted her with such an important task. "How long have
you been playing the flute?" Chelsea asked. "Um…a couple months. After my mommy
went to heaven I was real sad and so my daddy took me to talk to a lady and she told
daddy I should take music lessons," Jenny related. "And do you like it?" Chelsea asked.
"Its ok I guess," Jenny said, "Im not very good yet. Do you play an instrument?"
"No," Chelsea said. "Why not?" Jenny asked. "Well, when I was like, six or seven, my
parents signed me up for piano lessons, but it didnt work out." "Why not?" Jenny asked.
"Well, the piano teacher came to my house. She was like, this older lady and her eyes
like, totally bugged out when she saw how long my nails were. I mean, they were like,
reaalllly long, and she said I had to cut them to play the piano. So I like, threw a fit and
ran into my room and that was that." "Why didnt your daddy make you take lessons?"
Jenny asked. "He totally loved my nails," Chelsea said. "I wish my daddy would like me
to have long nails," Jenny sighed. "He will, sweetie. I promise," Chelsea said. Jenny
smiled wide. Chelsea went on, "Oh, and then when I was like thirteen there was this boy
I liked and he played the guitar and I pretended I wanted him to show me how, but
because my nails were way too long to play the left hand, he would do it and I would pick
the strings with my right hand nails. He had to get right up close behind me and like, put
his arm around my shoulder. It was like, totally hot." Chelsea looked at Jenny and saw
the look of confusion on her face and quickly changed the subject. Soon they arrived at
the music teachers house. Jenny got out of the car and Chelsea turned on the radio.
"You have to come in and meet Ms. Hansen," Jenny insisted. "Ok," Chelsea said, rolling
her eyes, and she got out and took Jennys hand and together they walked to the front
door and rang the bell.
A pretty but unadorned thirtysomething with collar-length sandy hair and gray eyes, Ms.
Hansen opened the door. "Hi, Jenny," Ms. Hansen said. "Hi, Ms. Hansen," Jenny said,
and she gushed, "This is Chelsea. Shes awesome!" "Nice to meet you," Chelsea said,
offering her hand. "Likewise," Ms. Hansen said, not accepting her hand, and she turned
and led them into the house. Chelsea thought it was creepy, the way Ms. Hansen had
ignored her offering of a handshake, and that shed looked more through Chelsea than at
her. "Wheres your daddy?" Ms. Hansen asked. "His back hurts," Jenny said, "Chelsea
lives next door and she drove me." "Thats nice," Ms. Hansen said, "Uh, I mean that
your neighbor is so helpful. Im so sorry your daddy hurt his back." Chelsea began to
suspect Ms. Hansen had a thing for Sam, and was jealous of him having such a hot girl
nearby.
As they went inside, a very large German Shepherd dog bounded up. "Hi, Goddard!"
Jenny cried, bending slightly to tickle him behind his ears. The dog then suddenly stood
on his hind legs and put his paws up on Chelseas shoulders, wagging his tail. "Goddard,
down!" Jenny said sternly, and then turned to Chelsea, "He wont bite." "Hes
beautiful," Chelsea said, combing through Goddards thick fur with her long fingernails.
Chelsea took a seat on the couch, and Goddard jumped up next to her and put his head in
her lap. "Oh my gosh, Ive never seen Goddard do that to anybody," Jenny giggled. "Is
he bothering you?" Ms. Hansen asked without looking at Chelsea. "Not at all," Chelsea
said, "He likes my nails." Then she turned to Goddard, scratching him behind the ears,
and said in a baby-voice, "You love me, dont you boy? Yes you do!"
Jenny took her flute from its case and assembled it, put her sheet music on a wire stand,
and sat down behind it in a straight chair. Ms. Hansen took a seat on a chair next to
Jenny. As Jenny played, somewhat haltingly, Ms. Hansen would softly say things like
"Thats a C sharp, sweetheart," or "You missed one note, darling. Why dont you try that
part again?" Ms. Hansen never once looked at the music, and at one point she picked up
her own flute and played the entire piece flawlessly and beautifully by heart, to show
Jenny how it should sound. Once, Ms. Hansen repositioned Jennys little fingers on the
flute, and Chelsea noticed Ms. Hansen feel the ends of Jennys nails with her fingertips,
and Jenny said, "Im letting my nails grow reallllly long. You wont try to make me cut
them, will you?" "Uh…no…I mean, you can play the flute with long nails. If its ok
with your daddy for you to grow nails…," Ms. Hansen said, slightly off-put by the notion
of an 8 year old with realllly long nails. "Oh, its ok with him," Jenny assured her,
"Chelsea said so." "Oh," Ms. Hansen said, not even glancing in Chelseas direction.
Chelsea left her flip-flops on the floor and and brought her feet up next to her on the
couch. Throughout the lesson, Chelsea modelled her long, elegant nails and massaged
her beautiful, toned legs, as if she was simply bored, but in reality it was all for Ms.
Hansens benefit. She was certain Ms. Hansen had a crush on Sam, and accepted that she
would be jealous, but she seemed also to have a disapproving, dismissive attitude toward
Chelsea, and that made Chelsea want to flaunt her hotness all the more. But Ms.
Hansen took absolutely no notice of Chelsea. At one point Chelsea picked her longish
toenails, which did attract Ms. Hansens attention, and then she quickly uncrossed and
crossed her legs, flashing Ms. Hansen a fleeting glance up her skirt, where as usual, she
wasnt wearing panties. Ms. Hansens face exhibited no emotion whatsoever, and that
infuriated Chelsea. When the lesson was over, Jenny ran over to Chelsea and patted the
German Shepherd and said, "Ms. Hansen always lets me go out in the back yard and play
with Goddard for a while after the lesson, do you want to come?" Chelsea said,
"Oh…you go ahead sweetie, Im kinda tired. I think Ill just sit here and veg…I mean, if
its ok with Ms. Hansen." "Its fine," Ms. Hansen said, walking to her kitchen.
In a few moments, Ms. Hansen returned and placed a tray with glasses and a pitcher of
lemonade and a plate of oatmeal-raisin cookies on the coffee table by the couch. "Please,
have some," she said. "Oh…thanks, but, Im good," Chelsea said. Ms. Hansen looked at
her for the first time, but still not right in the eye, and said softly, "I baked the cookies
myself. You have to try just one." Reluctantly, Chelsea took a bite of cookie. "Yum!"
she said, smiling, "Theyre awesome, Ms. Hansen." "Lori," she said, smiling, and she
poured a glass of lemonade and handed it to Chelsea. "Have you got it?" Lori asked.
"Uh, yeah," Chelsea said, "Dont worry I wont drop it." Lori laughed, "One of my
embarrassing fears is that Ill let go of a glass before the other person has a grip on it."
"Do you like, have OCD?" Chelsea asked. "Oh, no, nothing that debilitating," she
laughed, "Im just blind." "Shut! Up!" Chelsea cried, and she waved her hand in front of
Loris eyes. "Stop that!" Lori giggled. "Wait, if youre…," Chelsea started. "I can feel
the air on my face when people do that," Lori said. "You totally had me fooled the whole
time," Chelsea said. "It wasnt intentional. In my house its easy for people not to catch
on," Lori said, "Outside, with Goddards harness in one hand and my cane in the other
hand, not so much." Chelsea realized that Lori hadnt been snubbing her
contemptuously, and probably didnt have a crush on Sam at all. She realized that Lori
was sweet and warm-hearted and friendly. And attractive. Very attractive.
"Please, have another cookie," Lori said. "Thanks," Chelsea said, "Youre an awesome
baker." "Thank you," Lori said. "Oooh! I just remembered!" Chelsea cried, and she
opened her purse and took out a little square wrapped in foil, "You have to try this. I
baked it myself, too." Chelsea poked the foil apart with her one inch-long fingernail and said,
"Here." Lori sniffed the air. "Mmm, I love chocolate!" she said. Chelsea pinched off a
small piece and touched it to Loris lips, and she opened her mouth and Chelsea placed it
on her tongue. "Ohhh! Thats the most scrumptuous brownie Ive ever tasted!" Lori
gushed, "Can I please have some more?" "Ok," Chelsea said, placing the foil with the
brownie in Loris hand, "But go easy, theres…" Lori scooped the brownie into her
mouth and hungrily gobbled the rest of it and licked her fingers. "Im sorry, what were
you saying?" Lori asked, licking her lips. Chelsea said, "I was saying, go easy, theres
like, a ton of weed in that brownie." "Oh my gosh! Why didnt you stop me?" Lori cried.
"You scarfed it down so fast I didnt have a chance. And I was scared of losing a finger,"
Chelsea giggled, "What, you never ate a pot brownie before?" "Not since college," Lori
said. "Are you going to be ok? I mean, you could make yourself throw up," Chelsea
offered. "Ew. No, I think Id rather be stoned," Lori said. "Awesome!" Chelsea said.
"Im sorry I didnt leave any for you," Lori said. "Its ok," Chelsea said, "I had one at
home just before I left."
"May I ask you something?" Chelsea said, "You dont have to answer if its too
personal." "Ask away," Lori said. Chelsea said, "Um…ok. Like, were you always…I
mean, or could you used to…" "I could see until I was maybe a year old, but I dont
really remember seeing," Lori said. "Is it true that blind people can tell what someone
looks like by feeling their face? Ive seen it in the movies but I didnt know if its true,"
Chelsea said. "Well, I guess it depends on the person," Lori said. "Can you?" Chelsea
said. "Pretty much," Lori said. "Would you?" Chelsea asked. "You mean, you?" Lori
asked. "Uh huh," Chelsea said, "Please?" "Ok," Lori said, and she put her hands up, and
Chelsea took her wrists gently and guided Loris hands to her face. Lori lightly traced
her fingertips over Chelseas forehead, around her eyes and over her eyelids, then down
across her cheekbones, feeling her nose between her thumbs. She felt Chelseas jawline
and chin and traced her lips with her thumbs and fingers, and then up to her ears and
through her hair and down her neck and out across her collarbone. All the time, Chelsea
stared at Loris face, and every touch of her fingertips seemed to excite a different nerve,
but each one led straight to Chelseas pussy. Frequently, Chelsea could feel the slight
scrape of Loris nails, and she became more highly aroused each time it happened. "So,
how do I look?" Chelsea panted impatiently. "You have a very nice facial bone
structure," Lori said, "Id say you must be quite beautiful." "Yeah, most people think
Im totally hot," Chelsea said immodestly, "Especially my lips." Lori smiled and blushed
slightly, "Uhh, yeah, I get that. Your lips are very, um…" "Sexy?" Chelsea said.
"Uh…," Lori blushed again. "Kissable?" Chelsea giggled. Lori giggled too. "Kissable!"
Lori repeated, "Thats such a weird-sounding word, isnt it? Kiss-uh-bul." And she
giggled again, for a few moments. "Betcha cant tell me what color my hair is," Chelsea
teased. "Brown," Lori ventured. Chelsea gasped, "Oh my God! How could you tell?"
"I could tell by the feel that you dont color it, and there are way more natural brunettes
than blondes or redheads put together…so I went with the odds," Lori said. "Ok,
smartypants," Chelsea said, bringing her feet up onto the couch and guiding Loris hands
to them, "Lets see you tell me what color polish I have on." Lori felt the tops of
Chelseas toenails with her fingertips, and also the edges with her thumbs. "Im going to
say red," Lori said, and when she heard Chelsea gasp she added, "And you havent cut
your toenails in quite a while." "Oh my God, youre right!" Chelsea squealed, "I always
wear bright red, and I always keep my toenails kinda long. Trust me, they look totally
hot. But how did you know theyre red?" "That was just a shot in the dark," Lori said,
and realizing the irony, she burst into a long peal of laughter and giggles. She brushed
Chelseas soles with her thumbs and gasped, "Oh my, your feet are incredibly soft! How
do you get them like that?" "I bet yours are soft too," Chelsea said. "Oh no, nothing like
yours," Lori said, giggling. "Let me feel them," Chelsea said, grasping Loris ankles and
caressing her feet. "Oh my gosh! What are you doing?" Lori gasped, feeling the heat and
wetness of Chelseas tongue darting between her toes. "Snacking on your toes," Chelsea
said sweetly. Stoned out of her mind, Lori burst into giggles again.
"Can I try feeling your face, like you did to me?" Chelsea asked. "But you know what
my face looks like," Lori said. "Ill close my eyes," Chelsea said. "Oh, ok," Lori said,
her dope-soaked mind incapable of seeing the flaw in that logic. Chelsea put her hands
on Loris face and traced lightly around her features just as she had done to
Chelsea…except Chelsea used her nails. "Youre supposed to use your fingertips," Lori
whispered. "Doesnt it feel way better with my nails?" Chelsea asked. "Y-yeah," Lori
said, shivvering. She raised her hands to Chelseas and felt them with her fingertips, and
when she got down to her nails, Lori gasped and sighed, "Oh my gosh, your nails are like
an one inch long!" "Wow! You really can see with your hands!" Chelsea gushed, and she
placed Loris hands under her tee-shirt and bra and said, "Tell me what my cup size is."
Lori giggled, "34C. Now ask me something hard." "Ok," Chelsea said, "Have you ever
kissed a girl?" "Oh my gosh!" Lori said, but then she giggled, "Ok, once in college my
roommate and I made out…but we were both drunk and she threw up and passed out
before we got too far." Instantly she felt Chelseas warm breath under her nose, and
Chelseas sweet lips engulf hers, and combined with the dope, Loris world went
spinning. Chelsea whispered, "Dont stop," clasping Loris hands to her nipples and
encouraging her to fondle, as she resumed deep-kissing her and stroking her face with her
long, lovely fingernails. Chelsea wrapped her arm around Loris neck and leaned her
down on the couch. She put her knees between Loris and spread their legs apart. Loris
nostrils flared and she sniffed. "You can smell how much I want you, cant you?"
Chelsea moaned lustfully, "Thats sooooo hot!" "Wait," Lori cried meekly, "I dont
know if we should…." "You want me, too," Chelsea whispered, as she felt Loris soaked
panties and quickly clawed them down her legs and and off her feet. Lori squealed as she
felt Chelseas one inch-long natural fingernails enter her wet pussy, then she began moaning
as those nails went to work on her swollen bud, bringing her quickly to the brink of
climax. And then Chelseas fingers were still. Lori tried to thrust and gyrate but Chelsea
pinned her unable to move. "Do me, too," Chelsea commanded in a whisper. Loris
fingertips quickly found their way to Chelseas mound, and she began fingering her and
fondling her clit. "Your touch is awesome. I knew it would be." Chelsea whispered
breathlessly. Chelsea ascended quickly to an orgasm, and Lori felt Chelseas juices flood
over her hand, and she started to withdraw her fingers. "No!" Chelsea cried, "Dont stop!
I want more. Use your nails." "But I could scratch you," Lori protested, "My nails arent
that long but theyre very sharp." "Just do it gently like I did," Chelsea whispered,
treating Lori to another dizzying hot kiss. Although Loris nails were less than a quarter-
one inch long, Chelsea could feel that they truly were razor-sharp. But Loris sense of touch
was so exquisite that she caused Chelsea only pleasure. In fact, more pleasure than
Chelsea had ever felt before from anyone with nails that short. Chelsea skyrocketed to
another climax, followed by several more even stronger, while she teased Loris swollen
clit with her nails just enough to hold her on the edge. Though it didnt happen often,
Chelsea felt fully satisfied after her last orgasm, and she drove her tongue into Loris
hungry mouth while her long nails brought Lori to a thrashing, shuddering climax.
Chelsea was happy she had decided not to let Lori have an orgasm earlier, as she
frequently liked to do to excite her female lovers, because after she came, the
combination of the dope and the explosive sexual release made her fall deep asleep
almost immediately. Chelsea covered her with a throw-blanket and stepped into her flip-
flops. She went to the back door and hollered for Jenny to bring Goddard inside so they
could leave. "Shhh," Chelsea whispered as Jenny and the dog came bounding in, "Ms.
Hansen fell asleep. Lets not wake her, ok?" "Ok," Jenny whispered. Goddard stood at
Chelseas feet and wagged his tail as she scratched behind his ears with her long
fingernails. "Yes you love me, yes you do! And your mommy loves me too," she said in
soft baby-talk as Goddard sniffed under her skirt.
Chelsea called ahead and ordered pizza, and they stopped on the way to pick it up. As
they were walking in they passed the delivery guy that Chelsea had had sex with earlier
in the week. "Is…is s-she y-yours?" he stammered, glancing at Jenny. "Uh huh,"
Chelsea said with a smile, then she winked, "Dont worry, shes not yours." He laughed
a stupid laugh, and Chelsea wondered to herself how she could ever have had sex with
him, then she remembered how horny she had been at the moment. She called Sam to
say they were on their way with pizza, and by the time they got home, he was sitting in a
kitchen chair. "Daddy! Youre up! Are you feeling better?" Jenny cried. "Yes princess,
I am, thank you," he said, "Its amazing, I sure didnt feel this much better the day after I
threw my back out last time." "You didnt have sex with me all night long the last time,"
Chelsea whispered in his ear, licking it, and stroking the back of his neck with her
incredible nails. Chelsea put the pizza on the table and gave everyone a piece. "Ew!
Theres broccoli on it! I hate broccoli!" Jenny cried. Sam chuckled, "Looks like you
messed up finally, Chelsea. There isnt a force on earth that could get that child to eat
broccoli." Chelsea turned to Jenny and looked her straight in the eye and said very
earnestly, "Oh my God, didnt you know? Broccoli will totally make your nails grow
like, crazy fast. And way strong, so they get like, realllly long." "Awesome!" Jenny
cried, devouring her pizza with broccoli. Then she turned to Sam and said, "Daddy, can I
have your broccoli? You dont need to have long nails." Chelsea smiled, "I never mess
up," and she started stroking his leg under the table with her baby-soft toes. "And Im
not like, just any force on earth," she said softly, scratching down his leg seductively with
her toenails. "Are you ok, Daddy?" Jenny asked, "Youre breathing funny and your face
is kinda red." "Hes fine, sweetie," Chelsea offered, working Sams cock free under the
table with her toes. "Why dont you go start your homework, and when youre done we
can all have some ice cream?" "Ok! Awesome!" Jenny cried, and she ran to her bedroom
and closed the door. Instantly Chelsea sat on Sams lap, driving his throbbing cock deep
inside her and wrapping her strong legs around him and the back of the chair, clasping his
face with her ten magnificent long, natural fingernails, and drowning him in her hot,
honey-sweet, intoxicating kiss.
When Jenny came out after doing her homework, Chelsea brought a carton of ice cream
to the table and handed Sam the scoop. The ice cream was very hard, and the effort made
his back hurt and he winced and looked at Chelsea. "I might break one," she said,
waving her ten perfect one inch-long nails. Just then Sams cell phone rang. "Sure, I can
give you the number," Sam said, "But shes right here if you want to talk to her."
Chelsea furrowed her brow and mouthed who is it? "Its Jennys flute teacher," Sam
said with puzzlement, holding the phone out to Chelsea. She took the phone, "Hi, this is
Chelsea…Um, yeah, me too, totally…Sure I will…Really, I promise…Soon…ok,Bye."
Chelsea handed the phone back to Sam. "What was that all about?" Sam asked curiously.
"Oh, she wants me to show her how I make my chocolate brownies," Chelsea said
ingenuously, "Shes such a nice lady, and its amazing how she copes with being blind."
"Well, since you two hit it off so well, I dont suppose youd consider taking Jenny to her
lesson every week…" Sam said with a grin. "For real? You wouldnt mind? I wouldnt
be like, interfering with a father-daughter thing?" Chelsea asked, "Not at all," Sam said,
"I think Jenny will be thrilled." "Awesome," Chelsea sighed.
CHAPTER SEVEN…
Chelsea rolled out of bed Saturday around 1PM and heard the shower running. She
shuffled to the bathroom and turned the knob, but the door was locked from the inside.
She laughed to herself at Genevieves feeble attempt at keeping her out, and she quickly
shoved a hairpin in the hole in the knob and popped the lock. "I love it when you tease
me," Chelsea giggled as she pulled back the shower curtain, and Genevieve let out a
startled cry. "God youre beautiful," Chelsea exclaimed, stepping into the shower and
running her nails all over Genevieves tiny body. "Aww, Chelsea. I can hardly stand up
after last night," Genevieve complained. "Then I guess its lucky I spent the first half of
the night with Sam, huh?" Chelsea laughed, bringing Genevieves hand between her legs,
"Just once more, and I promise I wont bother you again for awhile." But as the two of
them were drying themselves off in a while, Genevieve saw that familiar lust in Chelseas
eyes, and Chelsea pushed her onto the bed. "You promised," Genevieve whined,
exhausted. "I meant it when I said it, thats what counts," Chelsea said, and then she
pounced on Genevieve like a panther. "Jennys coming over in like, ten minutes, so you
should really put a little clothes on," Chelsea said excitedly as she got off of Genevieve,
"Were doing mani-pedis!" Still out of breath, Genevieve slowly dragged herself up and
slipped into a tee-shirt and cut-offs. "Your little ass is so hot in those shorts, with your
cute little legs and sexy bare feet," Chelsea said, licking her lips. Genevieve quickly
changed into sweat pants and socks.
There was a soft knock on the door, and Chelsea opened it and clapped her hands
together and cried, "Hi, Jenny! Are you ready? Ive been like, soooo looking forward to
this!" "Me too, Chelsea," Jenny smiled, throwing her arms around Chelseas middle and
giving her a bear-hug. Chelsea led Jenny by the hand toward the bedroom. "Cmon
Genevieve, you too!" Chelsea called out. "Um…Chelsea…," Genevieve said, motioning
her off to the side. "Go ahead in the bedroom, sweetie," Chelsea said to Jenny, "Ill be
there in a sec." "What?" Chelsea said quietly to Genevieve. "Do you really think its a
good idea for you to give me a mani-pedi with Jenny there? You know what it does to
you when youre touching my fingernails and toenails…I mean, what always happens…"
"Hmm, good point," Chelsea nodded, "Im like, starting to get wet just thinking about it."
Genevieve saw that familiar look start to come over Chelsea, and she grabbed her
backpack and ran out the front door.
"Isnt Genevieve joining us?" Jenny asked. "Um, she had to study. Its just us two,"
Chelsea said. "Thats ok, I like just being with you," Jenny said. "Me too," Chelsea said,
planting a kiss on Jennys forehead. "First thing, I have to take the polish off my
toenails," Chelsea said, unscrewing the cap from a bottle of polish remover. "Always get
the kind that doesnt have acetone," she told Jenny, "Because acetone dries your nails out
and then they get brittle and crack." She soaked a couple of cotton balls with remover,
and put her feet up on a towel she spread on the bed. Handing one of the cotton balls to
Jenny she said, "Would you like to do my left foot while I do the right?" Jenny gingerly
took the cotton ball and began to rub the polish off Chelseas left toes, copying exactly
how Chelsea was doing it. "I think I need another one," Jenny said, showing Chelsea that
her cotton ball was saturated with red. "Youll need lots more," Chelsea said, "Because I
use like, three coats of red polish plus a clear base coat underneath, and a clear top coat.
Thats why my toenails always look so awesomely hot. But it takes like, forever to get it
all off." "I dont mind," Jenny said. Eventually they got all the polish off of Chelseas
toenails, and Chelsea wiggled her toes and said, "Well, there they are, all naked." Jenny
thought that was a really funny comment and she giggled loudly. Then her eyes widened,
and she ran her fingertips over Chelseas bare toenails and gasped, "Wow! Theyre
reaalllllly long! Are you gonna cut them now?" Chelsea smiled, "Oh, no, cutting is the
worst thing you can ever do to your nails! It puts little tiny cracks in them you cant see,
and then later on the nails break off. You must always file your nails, and never with a
metal file, only an emery board. But first we have to soak them so they soften up. That
makes them easier to file and also more flexible so they dont start to crack." Chelsea
went into the bathroom and filled a small and a large plastic tub with warm, soapy water.
She put the large tub on the floor and the two of them put their feet into it, and she put the
small tub on her lap and both she and Jenny put their hands into it. "This will take a few
minutes," Chelsea said, "Just enjoy the warm water." "I am," Jenny said, but from the
adoring expression on her face it was clear that she was most enjoying bonding with
Chelsea.
"I always do my toes first, because they get polish," Chelsea said with a smile. "Dont
you ever polish your fingernails?" Jenny asked. "No, I think they look hotter unpolished.
Once in a while for a special occasion I polish them red like my toenails, but then I take
the polish off right after." Chelsea carefully smoothed the edges of her toenails with a
wide emery board, and she put toe spreaders between her toes and reached for a bottle of
clear base coat polish. As they were drying, Chelsea patted Jennys feet dry with a towel
and held them in her lap and looked them over carefully. "I havent cut my toenails in
about a month," Jenny giggled. "You have like, amazing toenails," Chelsea gushed,
"Theyre naturally long, and narrow, not wide and stubby like most kids." Then she
took the emery board and went to work on Jennys little toenails. "Arent you going to
make them any shorter?" Jenny asked, seeing that her toenails were still rather long and
Chelsea was stuffing cotton between her little toes, about to apply base coat. "Nope. I
just made them more even. Youll see when were done that theyll look awesome.
Trust me." Chelsea said. "I trust you," Jenny said, giving Chelsea that adoring look
again. After three coats of red polish and a clear top coat had dried, Jenny looked at her
feet, then at Chelseas and gasped, "Mine look just like yours!" "See, I told you theyd
be awesome," Chelsea smiled. Jenny held out her hands and exclaimed, "Make my
fingernails look awesome like yours! Please!" Chelsea smiled and held Jennys little
hands and kissed her fingers. "Youve only been growing them for less than a week,
sweetie," she said, being as kind as she could, "Even though they grow super fast its
gonna take a few more weeks for them to get really long." "I want them as long as
yours," Jenny said. Chelsea said, "The rule to hot-looking nails is, the white part should
be half the length of the entire nail…or maybe, a little longer, but not much longer.
Otherwise they look gross, and also you can bend them backwards easily and that totally
hurts!" Jenny looked a little disappointed. "Your nails are naturally long from the cuticle
to where the white starts, so you can grow them out to here," Chelsea explained, and she
demonstrated by laying one of her own nails over one of Jennys to the length she had in
mind. "Oh, thats plenty long!" Jenny exclaimed, smiling. "Today were just gonna
smooth off the sharp corners, and rub some oil into them, ok?" Chelsea smiled. "Ok,"
Jenny answered. "And as they get longer, you have to learn to be careful of them,"
Chelsea informed her, "Or else you can break them, or accidentally scratch yourself or
somebody else. You have to keep looking at them and reminding yourself that you have
long nails, until after a while itll just be sorta automatic." "Ok, I will!" Jenny said, with
that look of complete adoration. Chelsea walked Jenny next door and when they went
inside, Sam was sitting on the couch. Jenny ran and sat beside him and put her feet in his
lap and said in a coquettish voice, "Do you like my pedicure, Daddy?" batting her long
eyelashes and slowly wiggling her slightly-long red-polished toenails. Chelsea beamed
with inner satisfaction. Jenny hugged Chelsea and asked her, "Am I going to be hot
when I grow up?" "Awesomely hot!" Chelsea exclaimed. "Really? You really think so?"
Jenny asked urgently. Chelsea gushed, "I can totally tell! Youre gonna be almost as hot
as me!"
CHAPTER EIGHT…
When Sam woke up Sunday morning, his back was still aching from his recent injury,
and the rest of him ached from a night of almost constant sex with Chelsea. She looked
like a sleeping angel, so sweet and peaceful. And so lovely. One of her long, toned legs
was on top of the covers, her pink sole wrinkled, her longish red toenails peeking over the
ends of those perfect, satin-soft toes that could drive him insane when she wrapped them
around his cock and stroked him endlessly. Her lips were relaxed and barely parted, the
full lips that were so soft and warm tender and yet so powerful that her kiss could make
his knees buckle. And her hands rested on the pillow next to her, one was palm-up, the
other with outspread fingers, giving Sam both an underside and topside view of her
perfect, straight, clear, one inch-long fingernails. Nails that one moment she would trace
almost imperceptibly over his skin, igniting his desire, and the next moment rake him
hard and swift, fanning the flames of his passion. Sam felt his cock begin to stir, and he
thought to himself how, even in her sleep, she could seduce him. The sound of Jenny in
the kitchen broke his reverie, and he slipped out of bed as carefully and silently as he
could, knowing that if he even half-awakened Chelsea she would be on him in a heartbeat
and he would have to perform once more.
Sam was sitting at the kitchen table eating cereal, when Chelsea came shuffling in,
wearing one of Sams shirts as a nightie, and she sat down at the table and laid her head
in her hands. "Youre up early," Sam said, "Its only eleven." "Mmmm hmmm,"
Chelsea mumbled, still groggy. "Theres fresh coffee," Sam said. Chelsea opened an eye
and reached for an empty mug that was on the table. She held it out at arms length in
front of Sam, yawning, and said, "Thanks." Slowly, Sam coaxed his aching body out of
his chair and went to the counter to pour her a cup of coffee. Chelsea coddled the mug in
both hands and sipped slowly, clicking her long nails against the china, casting Sam a
sexy smile as she became more awake. "I dont think Ive ever seen you up at this hour,"
Sam joked. He felt her toenails scrape gently up and down his leg. "Yeah, Im sorta
thinking about going back to bed," she said, licking her full, pink lips. Sensing he had
about a half a second before Chelsea would pounce on him, Sam said, "Um…I hope you
wont be upset, but I sort of wanted to watch football. I figured you probably had
studying to do anyway." "Youre kicking me out?" she asked. "Oh, no, of course you can
stay if you want," Sam said. "Will there be beer and belching?" Chelsea asked.
"Well…," Sam said sheepishly. "Then Im in," Chelsea said sweetly. "The game starts
at noon," Sam said. "Im gonna run next door and grab a quick shower and put some
clothes on," Chelsea said. Sam leaned in to kiss her, but Chelsea put a long fingernail
against his lips. "Maybe we better not," she whispered, "Im already like, halfway
horny." And she ran to the door, turned and blew Sam a kiss as she left.
Sam gaped when Chelsea made her re-entrance, barefoot, wearing a pleated mini-skirt,
her large, hard nipples very prominently displayed through the thin fabric of a very tight
tee-shirt emblazoned with their teams logo. Her thick, shiny brown hair was tied with
ribbons into two pigtails that bounced as she trotted over and sat herself on Sams lap on
the couch, and she gave him a hot, deep kiss while she held his face tenderly with her
nails. She stretched out her long, toned legs, and spread and flexed her red-polished toes
"You like my pedicure, dont you, lover?" she purred, bending one long leg and gently
caressing his bare leg with her longish toenails. Chelsea giggled and blushed and tucked
her pleated mini-skirt modestly between her legs. "I dont own any panties," she
whispered into his ear, teasing it with her teeth. "You never planned to let me watch the
game, did you," Sam said. "I can multi-task," she whispered, gently biting his neck and
working his dick free, "Cant you?" Chelsea knelt on his lap and lowered herself onto his
hard cock, wrapping her long legs around him. After they had both cum, Chelsea asked,
"Would you like a beer? I bet youre thirsty." "Sure," Sam answered. "Me too," she
said sweetly, arching her perfectly-sculpted eyebrows. Sam stumbled to his feet and
brought a six pack from the refrigerator. He opened one but as he hoisted it to his lips,
Chelsea took it gently from his hand and said, "Thanks."
From the moment of kickoff, Chelsea demonstrated an encyclopedic knowledge of
football: she knew all the rules, all the plays, the stats for every team in the country, even
the players and scores of historic games of the past. When Sam remarked, Chelsea
smiled modestly and said, "I know like, way more about basketball and hockey." She
also matched him beer for beer, and when he said "Do you mind?" as he unwrapped a
cigar, she shook her head and lit it for him. After he took a couple puffs, she took it out
of his mouth and licked the end of the cigar round and round with her tongue, drew
sensuously on it with her perfect, full lips, french-inhaled, and blew a series of perfect
smoke rings. Once when their team fumbled an easy receive and the other team
recovered the ball, Chelsea strung together a run-on sentence of mostly obscenities and
she threw a full bowl of popcorn at the TV. "Open it for me, will you lover?" Chelsea
smiled, handing Sam another beer, "We wouldnt want me to break a nail." At the end of
the first half, Sam put his arms around Chelsea and pulled her close to him. "Youre
absolutely amazing," he said. "I know," she sighed. Sam chuckled, not fathoming that
she was agreeing quite seriously. "We should do this every week," Sam suggested, "You
know, start a tradition." "Ok…And I think we should start another tradition, too :
Halftime sex!" Chelsea said, engulfing Sams mouth with hers and making his head spin
while she pulled him on top of her and clawed his back semi-hard with her long
fingernails, and scratched her toenails up and down the back of his legs. Sam slept
through the rest of the game with his head against Chelseas breasts. "We won, 38 to
21," Chelsea said softly, stroking Sams face with her long nails. "Huh? Shit!" Sam
whined, "I cant believe I missed the second half." "I woke you up for the best part,"
Chelsea said earnestly. "Huh?" Sam said, confused. "Victory sex," she smiled, igniting
his desire with a fiery kiss while she lightly raked his cock with her one inch-long fingernails,
and as she felt him grow instantly hard she spread her legs and took him deep inside her.
In the afterglow, Sam looked at her and breathlessly said, "I am so in love with you".
She kissed him softly. Sam waited a few moments, then he sat up and put his hands
gently on Chelseas shoulders. "Do you love me?" he asked. Instantly, tears flowed like
rivers from Chelseas soft hazel eyes. "Oh my God, do you have to ask?" she cried, "Are
you like, that insecure you need me to say it?" "Hey…no…dont cry. Im sorry," Sam
said. "I forgive you," she said, and she kissed him softly again, and lightly scratched his
throat with the tips of her long, sexy fingernails as she rested her head on his chest and
smiled to herself.
"Chelsea," Sam said finally, "Theres something Ive been meaning to ask you." "Yeah,
what?" she said. "Well," he began, "When I hurt my back, I started thinking about what
would happen to Jenny if, God forbid, something happened to me. I mean, even just me
getting sick or hurt, not necessarily dying." "You mean, like insurance?" Chelsea asked.
"No, Ive got that," he said, "What I mean is, Im all the family Jenny has. Her
grandparents are dead, my wife was an only child, and I have a brother but hes been in
and out of rehab. So if something happened to me, Jenny would end up with some
distant cousins she doesnt even know, or worse, in foster care." "Oh my God!" Chelsea
exclaimed. "Yeah, my sentiments exactly," Sam said, "So that brings me to what I
wanted to ask you." "Yes! Of course I would take care of her," Chelsea cried, "You
dont even have to ask me." "Thank you," Sam said, "I was hoping youd say that. But
it isnt quite that simple. Well have to go to a lawyer and get papers drawn up." "Just
do it and tell me where to sign," Chelsea said. "I already made an appointment with a
lawyer for Tuesday," Sam said, "At two in the afternoon, so youll be up." "Thanks,"
Chelsea said, "But Id like, stay up all night and go at six AM…for Jenny."
CHAPTER NINE…
Most nights that semester Chelsea spent with Sam, having sex until dawn and then
sleeping until early afternoon, when she would go next door to her own apartment and
seduce Genevieve before she went to campus for afternoon classes. Sometimes she
would spend the night with Genevieve, following her out the door as she left for class the
next day, going into Sams apartment and having sex until Jenny came home from
school. On Mondays and Wednesdays, Chelsea had Chads class, and afterward she
would seduce him and they would have sex on the mattress in back of his VW van.
Thursdays, Chelsea took Jenny to her flute lesson, and then while Jenny played out back
with Goddard the guide dog, Chelsea and Lori Hansen would bolt for the bedroom and
pleasure each other for an hour. Chelsea also frequently found herself horny for some
stranger she happened to lay eyes on, so she had many one-time trysts in between her
regular round-robin of sex partners. And as the weeks and months passed, Chelsea spent
more and more time with Jenny. The motherless little girls bond with Chelsea quickly
grew enormously strong and deep. Chelsea considered Jenny her protIgI, and was giddy
with delight at seeing Jenny blossom in her own image. To Chelsea it was like seeing
herself reborn, being given the chance to re-live her own evolution vicariously. Most
importantly, by moulding Jenny into someone who would eventually think, feel, look and
act exactly like her, Chelsea would finally have someone she could truly love.
By mid-November, Jennys fingernails were a half-inch or more past her little fingertips,
and with Chelseas help, perfectly tapered and rounded, always clean, and buffed to a
lustrous, natural sheen. Everywhere she went, Jennys nails drew attention, because
nobody had ever seen nails that long on an 8 year old girl. Girls her age were all
fascinated, and either worshiped Jenny or envied her. Boys her age were equal parts
fascinated and fearful. Chelsea had taught her never to use her nails as weapons because
she might break them, but Chelsea also taught her to intimidate with her nails without
ever making a mark on anyone. If someone was bothering her, Jenny would give them an
icy stare and slowly turn her hands and curl her fingers in front of them and very calmly
say something like, "Look how long my nails are. Can you imagine how much it would
hurt if I dug them all the way in to somebody?" or "I bet if I scratched someone really
hard they would have to get stitches." All the kids in her school would do whatever Jenny
said, to avoid finding out if her nails were as sharp and dangerous as they looked.
Fortunately, Jenny attended a small, private school that was very free-thinking, and did
not prohibit her from keeping such long fingernails. A couple of the boys seemed to be
totally infatuated with Jennys nails, and stared at them out of the corner of their eye
every chance they got. When Jenny related that to Chelsea, Chelsea asked her how it
made her feel, and Jenny answered with a single word, "Awesome." Not "creepy" or
"weird" or even "ok". It felt awesome, just like it felt to Chelsea. Chelsea was ecstatic.
She and Jenny shared the same hunger. Their souls were one. Chelsea told her that as
boys got older, more and more of them would be enslaved by her nails, and once again
Jenny just said, "Awesome."
Out in public, people---in particular, middle-aged women---would frequently gasp in
astonishment and remark to Sam or Chelsea about how inappropriate Jennys nails were
for her age. If Chelsea was present, she would smile coldly and say, "I dont recall
asking for your opinion," while nonchalantly modelling her own uncommonly-long nails,
and she and Jenny would high-five each other as they left the women standing there red-
faced and spluttering. If Sam was alone with Jenny, he would tell the nosy women that it
was just a phase she was going through since the death of her mother. That typically
made them get all apologetic and back off. And Sam truly believed it. He got that Jenny
was emulating Chelsea, but had no idea she was on an unstoppable path to becoming
Chelsea---the real Chelsea, not the illusion he was in love with. One time he and Jenny
went for ice cream, and there was a boy about Jennys age who had just gotten a
chocolate ice cream cone. While Sam was deciding what to order, Jenny went up to the
boy and said, "Hi, Im Jenny. Can I have a lick of your ice cream?" As could be
expected, the boy said no. "Please," Jenny asked, resting her hand on the boys hand.
He looked down and saw her long, dagger-like fingernails, and his eyes became as wide
as saucers, and the color drained out of his face. She gently indented the tips into his
skin and he stammered, "Ok, y-you c-can have a l-lick," to which Jenny responded very
sweetly, "That was before. Now I want the whole thing." Shaking like a leaf, the boy let
Jenny take his ice cream cone, and she smiled as he ran to his bicycle and pedalled away
as fast as he could. When Sam saw her with the ice cream cone he asked how she got it,
and she said, "A boy gave it to me." "Now, why would he do that?" Sam asked.
"Because Im awesome and he really liked me," Jenny said. And Sam just chuckled and
kissed the top of her head.
CHAPTER 10…
"I have to ask you a huge favor," Sam said to Chelsea, on the way to the lawyers office
to get papers drawn up to name Chelsea as Jennys legal guardian in case something
happened to Sam. "But please feel free to say no if you really dont want to, because Ill
truly understand." "What is it?" Chelsea asked. "Well," Sam said, "My oldest friend is
getting married upstate the day after Thanksgiving, and he asked me to be his best man."
"Thats like, next week! So you want me to babysit Jenny? No problem, Genevieve and
I arent going anywhere," Chelsea said. "No, Jennys invited too," Sam said, "I want you
to be my date. But like I said, Ill completely understand if you…" "Sure!" Chelsea said,
"I totally love weddings." "Wonderful!" Sam said, "I was really dreading having to go
by myself. All the pitying poor Sam, he lost his wife looks." "Theyre so not gonna
pity you with me there," Chelsea said, "Im even more awesomely hot when Im dressed
for a party." "Im looking forward to it," Sam said. "Me too, Im like, totally psyched
already," Chelsea said. She slipped out of her shoes and put one bare foot in Sams lap.
"Pull over," she said lustfully, massaging his cock to life. "Behave yourself! Were
going to be late to the lawyers!" Sam laughed. "No we wont," Chelsea purred, "Im
like, so horny Ill cum in like a minute." She unzipped his pants and slipped her foot
inside and when Sam felt the sharpness of her toenails on his cock he grew instantly hard.
He spotted an abandoned gas station and pulled in, and as soon as he put the car in park,
Chelsea had his dick out and she mounted him instantly. "Promise me youll wear
panties to the wedding," he gasped. "Never," she gasped, smothering him with hot,
urgent kisses, and clutching the back of his neck with her five inch-long fingernails. As she
started gyrating her pelvis against him, Chelsea cried, "I so love weddings!" and she
started pumping furiously against him, moaning louder and louder until she was
screaming. True to her word, she came like a tidal wave in less than a minute, and he
came right after her.
The meeting at the lawyers was brief…and disappointing. "Heres the situation, Sam,"
the lawyer said, "As Jennys father, you can of course designate Chelsea to be her legal
guardian in the event you die or are incapacitated. It would certainly satisfy the state, and
keep her out of the child welfare services system. But if a blood relative, even a distant
one, were to crawl out of the woodwork and sue for custody---and Ive seen it happen,
especially where theres a sizable estate in trust for the child---theres a chance the court
would rule in their favor. The only way to guarantee Chelsea would retain custody of
Jenny would be if you two were married, and even then, only if Chelsea were to legally
adopt Jenny. Since Jennys mother is deceased, that would be an easy matter." Sam
decided to have the guardianship papers drawn up anyway, because his main concern was
to ensure that Jenny wouldnt get put into foster care. Chelsea was surly and silent the
entire way home.
"Guess what!" Chelsea bubbled to Genevieve when she got home, "Were going upstate
for Thanksgiving…plus, to a wedding! Itll be so awesome!" "Wow, Im happy for
you," Genevieve said softly, feeling dejected that she would now be left all alone for the
holiday, with no time to make alternate plans. Even though it was typical for Chelsea not
to consider anyone elses feelings, it still stung each time it happened. "We totally have
to go dress shopping like, tonight," Chelsea exclaimed. "Im kind of busy with
studying," Genevieve said quietly. "A wedding is like, the absolute best place to hook
up, so its like, totally important to look amazingly hot," Chelsea said, "Way hotter than
anything in your closet." "Wait…you mean, Im invited?" Genevieve asked. "Well,
duh!" Chelsea said, "The only thing awesomer than going to a wedding and hooking up,
is going with your BFF! Now, lets get to the mall!"
Chelsea loved dressing Genevieve like a child does with a Barbie doll, and she dragged
Genevieve to store after store, making her try on dozens of dresses until she found one
that she thought would make Genevieve irresistible. Chelsea found Genevieve
irresistible herself… in the fitting rooms…several times. They emerged more than once
to the shocked and disapproving stares of other patrons who had overheard their
pleasured moans. By the time Chelsea announced that it was time to shop for a pair of
shoes, Genevieve was nearly exhausted. At the upscale boutique, the owner, a handsome,
well-groomed man in his early forties, brought out several pair of pointy-toed shoes. "I
totally think you should get open-toe shoes," Chelsea said. "No disrespect, Miss," the
man said, "But I have to disagree." "She has cute toes," Chelsea said. "Im sure she
does, but…," the boutique owner began. "If she wants to hook up with hot guys at the
wedding, she needs to show her toes," Chelsea said, "Guys totally cant resist a hot girls
toes." "Well, I…," the man started. Chelsea slipped her foot out of her shoe and rested it
on his thigh. "My toes are awesomely hot, arent they?" Chelsea said, scraping the fine
wool of his trousers with her longish red toenails. He could feel the damp heat of
Chelseas perfect foot, and heard the sound her toenails made against the fabric, and he
began to perspire, and his assertive demeanor quickly vanished. He sat frozen on his
little stool as Chelseas bare foot inched closer to his crotch, until she was grasping his
hard bulge with her toes and working his cock through his pants. "What kind of shoes
should my friend wear to the wedding?" Chelsea asked sweetly. "O-open t-t-toe," he
gasped. "See Genevieve, you always should trust me," Chelsea reminded her. Then she
scratched her one inch-long fingernails playfully against the back of his hand and said, "Why
dont we both go in the back room and see what we can find." Genevieve rolled her eyes
as Chelsea and the boutique owner disappeared into the store room. After about forty-
five minutes, Chelsea emerged alone, carrying a shoebox. "These are like, to-die-for
perfect," she gushed to Genevieve, "Here, try them on." Genevieve slipped her little feet
into the shoes and nodded that they fit well. "Ok, lets go," Chelsea said. "Oh my God,
theyre six hundred dollars!" Genevieve gasped, "I cant afford these!" "You dont have
to. The owner totally insisted I just take them," Chelsea said, admiring her one inch-long,
perfect fingernails, "Come on, lets get a Starbucks. My treat." Genevieve rolled her
eyes as she followed Chelsea out into the mall.
On Thanksgiving morning, Chelsea rolled her two large suitcases into the hall and
knocked on Sams door. "Take those down to the car for me?" she asked him, her eyes
upturned in a pleading look and her hands clasped as if in prayer. "Is there anything left
in your closet?" he asked sarcastically looking at the two enormous suitcases, "Do you
want me to pull a muscle and end up flat on my back the entire weekend?" "Actually Id
love to have you flat on your back the entire weekend," Chelsea winked, "But of course I
would hate for you to pull a muscle." "Just, not as much as youd hate to break a nail,"
Sam chuckled. "Oh my God! Dont ever even like, joke about that!" Chelsea cried,
looking adoringly at her ten perfect one inch-long fingernails. Just then Jenny appeared in the
doorway with her little pink Hello Kitty rolling suitcase. "Can you please put this in the
car for me Daddy?" she said sweetly, gazing with identical adoration at her own ten
shockingly-long (for an 8 year old girl) perfect nails. Sam loaded the luggage in the back
of his Range Rover Sport SUV and waited while Jenny and Chelsea buckled their
seatbelts, very slowly and cautiously so as not to risk their long nails. Genevieve came
running down the walk, her knee-length black hair flying in the breeze behind her, her
suitcase rolling and thumping along. Out of breath, she panted, "Sorry Im late, I had
some trouble getting my suitcase closed and..." Genevieve saw a confused, perplexed
look on Sams face. "Oh my God! You didnt know I was coming, did you?" Genevieve
cried. "I..uh…think maybe Chelsea might have forgotten to mention she invited you,"
Sam said, blushing. "Oh my God! Chellllssseeeea!" Genevieve cried, "Oh my God, Im
so embarrassed, I could die." Genevieve turned around and started stomping away.
Chelsea opened the car door and shot Sam a glaring look and motioned him after
Genevieve. Sam ran after her and took the suitcase handle out of her hand. "Here, let me
help you with that," he said. "Dont worry, I can get it back upstairs myself. You go on,
I dont want you to be late," Genevieve said, but Sam insisted. "Thanks," she said, and
then she cried, "Wait, what are you doing?" Sam was rolling her suitcase toward the car.
"Oh no!" Genevieve exclaimed, "You dont have to take me along. I feel bad enough as
it is." "Im the one who feels bad," Sam said, "I should have remembered that youd be
all alone for Thanksgiving, and invited you myself. Youre really lucky to have a friend
like Chelsea." Genevieve sighed and rolled her eyes. It both amazed and infuriated her
that Chelsea always managed to get a free pass on her unbelievably self-centered
behavior. But Genevieve had been so psyched to go, and she didnt want to spend the
weekend alone in her apartment, so she just gave Sam a kiss on the cheek and thanked
him profusely, and got in the car. "I cant believe you did that to me," she whispered,
giving Chelsea a punch in the arm. "Ow! Oh my God Genevieve, youre like such a
total drama queen," Chelsea said. "No fighting," Sam scolded them, "I want this to be a
happy weekend, so you two kiss and make up right now." "Yes daddy," Chelsea said in a
little-girl voice, and she turned around, grasped Genevieves face gently with both hands,
and kissed her on the lips. It wasnt an open-mouth kiss, but it was tender and she
lingered for a moment, and Chelseas eyes were closed. Genevieves eyes were open
and they met Sams, which were bugged out. Chelsea whispered to Sam, "Dont be
jealous," and she leaned over and grasped his face, holding him gently but firmly with
her long fingernails, sealed her lips over his and scoured the inside of his mouth with her
hot tongue for nearly a full minute. Afterward as Sam was trying to catch his breath, he
gasped "Chelsea, theres an ild-chay in the ar-kay!" "I know pig-Latin, Daddy," Jenny
giggled, "And Ive seen you and Chelsea kiss like movie stars before…and also Chelsea
and aunt Genevieve kiss each other all the time." "Really?" Sam said, shocked. "Of
course, Daddy," Jenny said, "Theyre BFFs! Right, Chelsea?" "Thats right, sweetie,"
Chelsea said, then she shook her head and sighed, "Im like, so glad Im a girl. Men have
such hangups." Chelsea winked discreetly at Genevieve, who rolled her eyes. Sam
started the engine and they drove off.
Sams friend had booked a block of rooms at the Hilton for out-of-town guests, but
otherwise they were completely sold out. Fortunately, Sams room was a suite with a
king bedroom and a small living room. It had a couch that made into a queen bed, and
without any coaxing Jenny offered to share it with Genevieve. There was a dinner at a
local restaurant that night for out-of-town guests. Sams friend Rob, the groom-to-be,
was tall and lean with wavy black hair and deep blue eyes. His fiance Alexis was a
strikingly-beautiful blonde with chocolate-brown eyes and a wholesome, innocent, small-
town aura. They both welcomed Sam like a brother, and warmly embraced Chelsea and
told her how good it was that she made Sam happy again. Sam and Rob went off to talk
with some other old friends, and Alexis sat with Chelsea. "Ive never met any of Robs
friends or family from back east, so were the strangers in the room," she said, "I hope
you dont mind if I hang out with you." "Not at all," Chelsea smiled, but her eyes darted
around the room furtively, surveying the men. "Oh my gosh, are your nails real?" Alexis
suddenly exclaimed. Chelseas attention snapped back immediately. "Yes! Do you like
them?" Chelsea said eagerly. "Theyre amazing," Alexis said, "How long have you had
them?" "This is the longest they can get without starting to curl, which looks totally
gross," Chelsea replied. "No, I meant how much time have you had them," Alexis said.
"Oh. Like, since I was maybe four. I mean, they werent long like now until I was
maybe twelve or thirteen." "Wow," Alexis said, holding out her hands, "I got acrylics for
the wedding." "Ew," Chelsea said. "Ew?" Alexis repeated questioningly. "Theyre like,
so fake-looking," Chelsea said, putting her hand next to Alexis, "See how yours get
wider toward the tip? Thats like, totally un-natural. But dont worry, I can fix them for
you," Chelsea said brightly. "Uhhh…ok...I guess," Alexis said apprehensively. Chelsea
squeezed Alexis hands and looked deep into her eyes and said softly, "Just trust me."
"Ok," Alexis said, feeling the warmth of Chelseas hands and the strength of her gaze.
"Ill come to you guys room tomorrow afternoon and fix that gross manicure," Chelsea
said. "Oh, um, Im in room 431. Sam is in 421. We decided to practice abstinence the
last six weeks," Alexis said. "Poor Rob!" Chelsea giggled, "I bet his wrist is killing him
by now." Alexis blushed and looked shocked. "Oh my God, was that too raunchy? Im
sorry, I didnt mean to embarrass you," Chelsea apologized. "N-no, it…," Alexis started,
but Chelsea hugged her and said, "Youre very sweet," and she gave her a quick but firm
kiss on the lips and turned and walked off. Alexis stood frozen for a moment, like a deer
caught in headlights. Then she cautiously licked her lips and swallowed hard.
At dinner, Sam and Chelsea sat on either side of Jenny, and Genevieve sat next to
Chelsea. All through dinner, Chelsea kept nudging Genevieves foot and whispering for
her to check out one or another of the men. Most of them were sitting next to their wives
or girlfriends, which Genevieve pointed out each time, and which Chelsea just said,
"So?" "I cant go after a guy if hes with someone, Chels," Genevieve protested. Finally
Chelsea spotted a very youthful-looking guy with dishevelled brown hair sitting on the
far side of the long table and directed Genevieve to check him out. "Hes cute,"
Genevieve said. "Ok, hes yours," Chelsea said. Genevieve laughed, "Yeah, right." "If
you want him, hes yours," Chelsea said calmly, "Say the word and its a done deal.
Trust me." "Cool," Genevieve shrugged, "Thanks." "No thanks are needed, youre my
BFF!" Chelsea said sweetly. After the main course, Chelsea asked Sam who the young
man was, and Sam replied that he was one of Robs cousins.
"Hi, Im Chelsea," she said, sitting down in the empty chair next to the young man.
"Matt," he said, smiling. Chelsea combed her fingers through her long brown hair and
flashed him a dazzling smile. "Wow, your nails are really long!" he blurted, "Are they
real?" "Yes they are," Chelsea smiled, and she gently scratched the back of his hand,
"Here…feel." Chelsea watched his pupils dilate and heard his breathing rate increase.
"Are you into girls with long, real nails?" Chelsea asked sweetly, and watched beads of
perspiration form on his brow. "I-I g-guess s-so," he stammered. "Good," she said, and
she leaned close to his face. "See that girl sitting across the way, the one with the long
black hair and long red nails?" she asked. "Uh huh," he said, "Ive never seen anyone
with hair that long before. Its incredible." "Would you like to hook up with her?"
Chelsea asked. "I…uh…," Matt said, "She looks really young. What grade is she in?"
"Shes a junior," Chelsea said. "Oh, ok, cool. Im a senior. Is she, like, your little sister
or something?" Matt asked. Chelsea giggled, "Kinda sorta. Were almost like sisters.
So, um, whats your room number?" "415," Matt offered eagerly. "Cool," Chelsea said,
getting up, "Dont fall alseep or you might not hear the knock. Oh yeah, her names
Genevieve." "Hey, uh…thanks!" Matt called after her.
After dinner they drove back to the hotel to put Jenny to bed. Sam said the drive up was
finally hitting him and he felt like watching a little TV and falling asleep, and Genevieve
said the wine from dinner had gone straight to her head and she was ready to crash too.
"I think Ill take advantage of the heated pool and go for a swim before bed…if you dont
mind," Chelsea said to Sam. "Enjoy," he said. Chelsea wrapped herself in a large towel
and slipped barefoot through the living room and out the door quietly, so as not to wake
Jenny and Genevieve who were both sleeping peacefully. Matt heard the soft knock on
his door and swung it open eagerly. His gleeful expression changed to confusion and
shock at seeing Chelsea, standing in her little thong bikini, rivers of water droplets
cascading down her voluptuous chest from her long, wet hair. "I t-thought…I m-mean I
was expecting…," Matt stammered. "Can I come in? Its kinda cold out here in the
hall," Chelsea said softly. "Uh…sure…I guess," Matt said apprehensively. Chelsea
padded in on her bare feet, and gently cornered Matt against the door as she closed it
behind him. "I would never let Genevieve hook up with some guy unless I was sure he
was right for her. You understand, dont you, Matt?" Chelsea said. She gently stroked
both sides of his neck with her one inch-long index finger nails. "I know you said you were
into girls with nails, but I have to be sure. Genevieve has very long fingernails. Theyre
not as long as mine, but theyre very sharp," Chelsea said, her voice trailing softer and
softer as she began stroking his neck with all her nails. "Do you mind if I scratch you,
Matt? Because, Genevieve loves to scratch," Chelsea whispered, kissing him lightly up
his neck while she brought her hands behind him and began scratching his back. Matt
just whimpered. "You dont have to answer, Matt," Chelsea whispered, gently biting his
neck, and as she pressed her pelvis against him and felt the rock-hard bulge in his pants
she continued, "I can feel how much you like long nails." Chelsea undid his belt and his
pants fell around his ankles, then she began rubbing her bare foot gently up and down his
leg. "My feet are incredibly soft arent they," she whispered, unbuttoning his shirt. She
curled her toes and scratched down his leg. "Do you like my pedicure?" she asked
sweetly, "I bet youve never had a girl scratch you with her toenails before, have you.
Its incredibly hot isnt it." Chelsea put her hands against Matts hairless chest.
"Genevieve likes guys with smooth chests," she said, and scratched her long nails slowly
down to his boxers, hooked her thumbnails under the waist band, and slowly pulled them
down, scraping his thighs with her nails. "Ohhh, my! You have a gorgeous cock, Matt.
It should make Genevieve very happy," Chelsea exclaimed, then she whispered, "Lets
go over to the bed, ok?" "Wait…what about your boyfriend?," Matt said. "Im the
worlds best secret-keeper. It would really hurt Sam…if he knew. And Im afraid he
would really hurt you, Matt. So, can you keep a secret forever, Matt, or should I go
now?" Chelsea asked him, as she lightly scratched her nails up his throbbing shaft. "Ill
n-n-never t-tell," he panted. "Never?" Chelsea whispered, her warm breath and soft lips
caressing his face while she traced her sharp toenails slowly up and down his inner thigh.
"Never," he groaned. "Ok," Chelsea said sweetly, and she licked her full lips and opened
her mouth and sealed it over his, driving her hot tongue deep inside, making the room
spin for him. At the same time she quickly slipped off her thong bikini and lowered
herself onto Matts rock-hard cock. Chelsea moaned once and came hard. And so did
Matt. "Oh God Im sorry," Matt cried hysterically, "Im sorry. Im really sorry." "Dont
be," Chelsea giggled, "Most guys cant last more than a few seconds with me...the first
time," Chelsea engulfed his lips again and the room started spinning again, and he felt
himself grow instantly hard as her nails raked his chest as she sat up, and she began
riding him slowly. She brought his hands to her luscious breasts and set him fondling her
hard nipples. Chelsea held Matt on the brink as she came over and over and over.
Finally she let him cum, and as he lay gasping for breath and totally exhausted, Chelsea
kissed him softly on the forehead and said, "Dont get drunk at the wedding tomorrow,
Matt. Genevieve wont let you off as easy as I did. Shell want to do it all night long."
Chelsea tiptoed into their suite, stopping to gaze at Jenny and Genevieve sleeping. She
knelt down and stroked Genevieves hair with her nails, and she opened her eyes a crack.
Genevieve rolled on her back and stretched and yawned. Chelsea put her hand over
Genevieves mouth. "Shh," she whispered, and gave Genevieve a long, passionate kiss.
Genevieve, now fully awake, shook her head no and pointed to sleeping Jenny. Chelsea
nodded her head yes and leaned in with another dizzying kiss, slipping her hand under
the covers and working Genevieves little clit with her one inch-long fingernails. Genevieve
mustered all her willpower to keep from crying out or shaking violently as waves of
orgasmic pleasure washed over her. "Youre welcome," Chelsea whispered very softly in
her ear as she slowly traced her long nails up from Genevieves mound, along her tummy
and over her erect nipples, and finally stroked her face. Chelsea took Genevieves hand
and kissed it. "Now do me," she whispered, crawling into bed carefully so as not to wake
Jenny. Chelsea bit hard into the pillow as Genevieves long nails brought her slowly to
climax. "Nighty-night," Chelsea whispered as she got up, and she went into the
bedroom. The sensation of sharp nails raking his arms woke Sam up from his deep sleep
to find Chelsea on top of him, riding his cock, feeling himself almost about to cum. After
he shot, Chelsea rolled off of him and said very quietly, "It was standing straight up, I
just couldnt let it go to waste." And she kissed him tenderly and cuddled close to him
and fell asleep.
Chelsea woke up as usual, around noon. Sam wasnt in the bedroom or bathroom so she
plodded out to the living room and saw that only Genevieve was there, sipping an orange
juice. "I brought you up some OJ, yogurt and a banana, and theres a coffee maker over
on the counter," Genevieve said. "Awesome," Chelsea yawned, sitting down at the table
and looking at Genevieve, "I like, so need a cup of coffee." Genevieve sighed and got up
to make coffee. "Sam went to play golf with his buddies, and he dropped Jenny off to
play with their kids," Genevieve said. "Rob is off playing golf the morning of his
wedding?" Chelsea exclaimed, "Thats like, so not right." "I dont think Rob is with
them," Genevieve said. "Oh, ok," Chelsea said, "By the way, hes kinda hot." "Oh my
God Chelsea, dont even!" Genevieve cried. "Theres a Jacuzzi in the bathroom,"
Chelsea said, changing the subject. "Really?" Genevieve asked. "Really!" Chelsea said,
stroking Genevieves leg with her toenails. Soon they were being massaged and
stimulated by the bubbling jets of the Jacuzzi, their lips locked in a slow, sensual kiss as
they stroked each others naked bodies with their long, beautiful natural fingernails, and
worked each other to climax after explosive climax. A thoroughly spent Genevieve
curled up on her bed and fell back to sleep, while Chelsea, still energized and horny as
hell, slipped into a pair of cut-offs and a tight tube-top and tiptoed barefoot out into the
hall. "Hi," she said sweetly, when Rob opened the door to his hotel room, "Is Alexis
here? Yesterday I promised to fix her manicure."
"Shes supposed to be at the salon getting her makeup done right about now. She should
be back in her room in a couple of hours to get dressed," Rob said. "Her room?" Chelsea
asked quizzically. "Yes, room 431. She, uh, that is, we decided to…um…be apart until
the wedding night. If you know what I mean," Rob said. Chelsea grinned, "Yeah I get
the picture. How long…um…has it been?" "Six weeks, three days, seventeen hours
and…" Rob looked at his watch, "Forty three minutes, eight seconds. But whos
counting?" Chelsea laughed out loud. "You make me laugh. I totally see why youre
Sams best friend," she said, "I like you." "I like you too, Chelsea. And I totally see why
youre Sams girlfriend. Im glad he found someone, its been rough for him," Rob said.
"Thanks," Chelsea said, "But speaking of Sam, he did abandon both of us to go off and
play golf. What do you think we should do to get even?" "Oh, definitely something
scandalous, and much more fun than golf," Rob laughed, playing along with her.
"Exactly what I was thinking," Chelsea giggled. "Checkers, chess or cards," Rob
chuckled. Chelsea laughed, "Checkers is boring, and men always get pissed because I
beat them at chess. So cards it is." Rob dug around in his suitcase and pulled out a deck
of cards, and Chelsea sat on the bed with her legs out in front of her. "Strip poker?"
Chelsea grinned. "Youre practically not wearing anything now, it might be a short
game." Rob remarked. "Only if I lose. And I never lose," Chelsea smiled. "Your deal,
shark," he said, sitting on the bed facing her and handing her the deck. "You shuffle,"
she said, "My nails kinda get in the way." "Those are some amazing nails!" he
exclaimed, shuffling the cards, "Are they real?" "One hundred percent," Chelsea smiled,
her nipples hardening through her thin tube top, "Just like everything on me." Chelsea
dealt them each a hand. "Ive got a pair of twos," Rob said. "Three sevens," Chelsea
said, and she tugged off one of Robs socks. "Do you have anything to drink?" Chelsea
asked. "Help yourself to the minibar," Rob said. Chelsea won hand after hand, until Rob
was down to his boxers, and the bed was littered with little empty bottles.
"Ok, I think I know when Im licked," Rob said. "I havent licked you yet," Chelsea
said, "But its crossed my mind." Rob, who was more than a little drunk, laughed at her
not-so-witty response. "See, I can make you laugh too," she said, brushing his leg with
her foot. Sam glanced down, and Chelsea spread her perfect toes. "Do you like my
pedicure?" she asked sweetly, resting her feet on his thighs, then she pointed her big toe
at his crotch and giggled, "Ill take that as a yes." Rob looked down and realized he had
a hardon, and he blushed beet red. "Im really embarrassed," he said. "Dont be. Its
totally my fault, because Im like, way hot," Chelsea said. Rob laughed again, a little too
loud. "The least I can do is fix it for you," Chelsea said, and she grasped his bulge with
both feet. "Stop!" Rob cried, grabbing her feet. "Relax, I was just messing with you,"
Chelsea said, "I promise to behave…if you massage my feet." Rob frowned. "Please tell
me you massage Alexis feet for her!" Chelsea said. "Id love to but she hates having her
feet touched," Rob said. "Well, heres your last chance to give a girl a foot massage, so
go for it," Chelsea smiled. Rob smiled and rolled his eyes, slightly dizzy from his buzz,
"What the hell." "Mmmmm, that feels awesomely good," Chelsea said, "You have
incredible hands. Alexis doesnt know what shes missing."
"One more hand," Chelsea pleaded, "I promise, if you lose you dont have to strip."
"Well, in that case, sure," Rob said. "Whatve you got?" Chelsea asked. "A straight!" he
cried, incredulous. "Beats my pair of threes," Chelsea sighed, and quickly pulled her
tube top off over her head. "Oh Jesus, p-put your shirt back on!" Rob cried. "You dont
like them?" Chelsea pouted, cupping her perfect 34C breasts and fondling her huge, hard
nipples between her long-nailed thumbs and forefingers. "No, I…I mean, sure I…that
is…," Rob stammered, his head spinning from the liquor. "Feel them, theyre real,"
Chelsea said, getting up on her knees and leaning forward. Rob tried to get up but his
head spun and he had to sit back down. Chelsea giggled, "Oh my God, what kind of man
are you? You suck at poker and you so cant hold your liquor. And, youre scared to feel
my tits!" "Im not scared," Rob insisted. "Are too," Chelsea giggled. "Am not," Rob
said. "Prove it," Chelsea giggled. Rob gingerly felt Chelseas breasts with his fingertips.
"Oh my God, that was like, the wussiest feel anyones ever copped!" Chelsea exclaimed.
Rob narrowed his eyes and grunted, "Oh yeah?" And he took hold of Chelseas boobs
and began to fondle them in earnest. "Thats more like it!" Chelsea exclaimed, biting her
lower lip. "Um…I think we better stop," Rob said, trying to shake off the cloudiness in
his head. "Ok," Chelsea said, taking his hands away from her breasts and bringing them
to her shoulders, "Hug?" "I…I guess," Rob muttered, and he put his arms around her.
He felt the heat of her body, her hard nipples pressing against his chest, and then he felt
her long fingernails slowly scratching his back and shoulders. Suddenly he felt her warm
breath under his nose, and her feather-soft lips brushing against his. "Kiss?" she
whispered softly, and before Rob could think, her mouth was on his, her hot, wet tongue
probing deep inside, her unrestrained passion overwhelming his senses. It was as if
Chelsea was inside his mind, taking control of his body. He felt the burning heat of her
pussy envelop his cock and squeeze like a fist. Her toenails dug into his asscheeks and
her long, natural fingernails left fiery trails across his back. Rob quickly ascended to the
peak of cumming, but somehow Chelsea kept him lingering there for what seemed like an
eternity, while he felt her shudder and heard her moan and scream again and again as she
orgasmed repeatedly. Finally she took him over the edge, and Rob almost passed out
from the explosive release. Rob curled up in the fetal position, sobbing. He looked at
Chelsea with a mixture of infatuation and hatred. "Dear God," he sobbed, "I just cheated
on my wedding day!" "Youre not married yet," Chelsea said cheerfully, stroking his
head gently with her one inch-long nails. "And you cheated on Sam!" he cried. "Cards,"
Chelsea said. "Huh?" Rob said. "I cheated at cards too. As long as were listing our
sins," Chelsea smiled. "Youre despicable!" Rob cried. "You sound like Daffy Duck,"
Chelsea giggled. Rob just looked at her with his mouth open, unable to form words.
Finally he said, "What are we going to do?" "Im going to find Alexis and fix her awful
manicure like I promised," Chelsea said, "You should probably take a shower and sober
up a little before you get dressed for the wedding." "W-what about what just happened?"
Rob asked, wiping his tears. "Ummm," Chelsea said, looking up ponderously, "Call it a
private bachelor party? Or, how about a wedding present?" "What about Sam and
Alexis?" Rob cried. "Im the worlds greatest secret-keeper," Chelsea said, "If you want
to hurt your fiance and best friend, its your call." Rob hung his head. Chelsea lifted his
chin with a long fingernail, and she kissed him tenderly. As she put on her tube top she
said, "Um, by the way, you probably want to keep the lights off until after youve had sex
at least once tonight. That way Alexis will think it was her who made all those scratches
on your back." And as Chelsea stood in the doorway she turned back to Rob and said,
"Hey, I know youre thinking that sex with Alexis wont ever be as awesome as it was
with me. I mean, ok, it wont. But dont worry, after I talk to her shes gonna like,
totally amaze you. Trust me." "What? Wait!" Rob cried and started after her, but
Chelsea was out the door and gone.
As she knocked on the door of room 431, Chelsea heard yelling and crying inside. A
blonde girl opened the door. "Hi, Im Chelsea. Alexis is expecting me," Chelsea said.
"Oh, um, hi Im Ricki. Im Alexis sister," she girl said, "Also her maid of honor. My
sister is having kind of a meltdown at the moment, so maybe you should…" "Dont
worry, Ive got it from here," Chelsea said, pushing past Ricki into the room. "Wait!"
Ricki cried. "Its ok Ricki," Alexis said, wiping tears from her reddened eyes, "Chelsea
can come in." "Whats up?" Chelsea asked. "Oh, probably just pre-wedding nerves,"
Alexis said. "Well youll feel way better once your nails dont look so gross," Chelsea
said, taking Alexis hands and sneering at the thick, wide-tipped fake french-manicure.
She set her little makeup bag down and took out a wide file and some bottles of clear and
bright red polish. "Oh my gosh, youre not going to paint them red?!" Ricki gasped,
"Alexis, youll look like a whore!" "Dont you like, have anywhere else you can be?"
Chelsea said to Ricki. Rickis jaw dropped and she pleaded, "Sis!" "Why dont you go,
Ricki. Youve just been making me crazy all morning," Alexis said. Ricki turned and
left in a huff. "Are you sure about red?" Alexis asked timidly, "My family is pretty
conservative and…" "I dont think Rob is looking for conservative…not after six
weeks without sex!" Chelsea winked, "So trust me." "Ok," Alexis said, resting her hands
on the table. Chelsea quickly set about filing Alexis thick, grotesque acrylic nails, until
she had thinned them and tapered them. Then she put on nail polish. "Theyll never look
totally real," Chelsea said, "But its the best I can do." "Oh my gosh! Theyre
beautiful!" Alexis cried, looking at her long, red nails, "Oh, thank you Chelsea! Thank
you so much!" "Be careful," Chelsea warned her, "Theyre like, really sharp now. You
want to drive Rob wild tonight, not send him to the hospital." Alexis looked at Chelsea
confused. "Oh my God, have you never clawed a guys back when you were having
sex?" Chelsea asked. "No!" Alexis gasped, "Why would I?" Chelsea answered, "Um,
because its kinda impossible not to, when youre having like, a major orgasm." Alexis
blushed and lowered her eyes. "Oh my God! Youve never had an orgasm have you,"
Chelsea gasped. Alexis shook her head.
"Ok," Chelsea said, "Not to worry. Youre just blocked. I can fix it. Trust me." "Huh?
Blocked? Fix it, how?" Alexis asked. "Ok, Im like, a Sociology major," Chelsea began,
"And I studied these ancient cultures, back when sultans or whatever had these harems.
If someone didnt please the sultan, she got her head chopped off. So the more
experienced girls would help the newbies out." "I dont know…," Alexis said
apprehensively. "You trusted me with your nails and look how awesome they are,"
Chelsea said, "So just put yourself in my hands, ok?" "Ok," Alexis sighed. Chelsea
instructed her to lie down on the bed on her back, and she gently lifted Alexis feet.
"Wait, no, I really hate having my feet touched," Alexis whined. "Why?" Chelsea asked,
"Are you majorly ticklish or something?" "No, its just that…well, my feet are ugly and
they probably smell bad," Alexis said. "Your feet are beautiful," Chelsea said,
"Although you really should let your toenails grow out." "Ew," Alexis said. "Look at
how awesome mine are," Chelsea said, placing her bare foot on Alexis shoulder,
spreading her toes. "Hmm, they are long. But they do look nice," Alexis agreed. "And
your feet dont smell bad," Chelsea said, bringing Alexis toes to her nose and taking a
deep whiff, "Do mine?" And Chelsea put her toes under Alexis nose. "Uh, no," Alexis
said. Chelsea began massaging the balls of Alexis feet. "Feels nice doesnt it," Chelsea
said, brushing Alexis cheek with her toes. "Uh huh," Alexis sighed. In a moment she
felt something soft, warm and wet, and looked up to see Chelsea licking her toes. "Ew,"
Alexis cried softly, but just then Chelsea sucked both of her big toes into her mouth and
at the same time pressed her long thumbnails into the fleshy part of her soles. Instantly
Alexis hands shot between her legs and she gasped and screamed and let out a long
moan. "Oh my gosh! What was that?!" she cried. Chelsea took Alexis toes out of her
mouth with a loud slurp and said, "An orgasm." "Oh my gosh!" Alexis gasped, "I never
imagined they were that…um…pleasant." Chelsea giggled, "That was only a little one,"
as she slid her foot down Alexis chest and burrowed her toes under her bra, fondling her
nipples. "The most important thing you have to remember is that sex is for you. Rob is
there to pleasure you. You start when you want to, and its not over until youre
completely satisfied," Chelsea said, getting up on her knees and bringing her face close to
Alexis. She continued, "Get on top of him where you control everything, so he cant
cum until youre like, totally done. Then you can let him get on top…if you want." "But
I always was taught that a good wife should…," Alexis began. Chelsea said, "Just listen
to me and do like I say, and youll have Rob worshipping you for the rest of his life.
When your clothes come off, remember, youre an animal. Lose control of yourself. Let
yourself go." Chelsea held Alexis hands above her head against the pillow and stroked
her one inch-long fingernails slowly down her palms and arms. "Scratch him," Chelsea
hissed, sinking her teeth gently into Alexis soft, white neck, "Bite him." "Chelsea, I…,"
Alexis protested. "Devour him with your kisses," Chelsea whispered, and she sealed her
lips over Alexis and plunged her tongue into her mouth. Alexis whined softly into their
kiss, but the room was spinning and she could feel wonderful, pleasureable sensations
coursing throughout her entire body, that she had never felt before. She squeaked when
she felt a hard, sharp sensation inside her pussy, then quickly the bliss began to overtake
her as Chelsea fondled Alexis clit between her one inch-long nails. Drowning in Chelseas
kiss, electrified by Chelseas long fingernails inside her pussy, and energized by
Chelseas toenails scratching up and down her legs, Alexis ascended to one explosive
climax after another, each one growing stronger and exciting her entire body to ecstasy
she never dreamed possible. Chelsea gave Alexis a tender kiss and rolled off her.
Alexis looked at Chelsea horror-stricken and gasped, "Oh my gosh, did you…? Did I…?
Did we just…?" "Shhh," Chelsea whispered, stroking Alexis cheek with her nails,
"Now youre ready to be a sultans wife. Trust me, tonight and the rest of your life with
Rob is gonna be totally awesome. Well, at least the sex anyway." Chelsea gave Alexis
nipple a little scrape with her nails, and Alexis gasped and climaxed again. "Chelsea?"
Alexis said. "Yes?" she answered. "Would you mind being my maid of honor?" Alexis
asked. "What about your sister?" Chelsea asked. "Shell get over it," Alexis said.
Chelsea asked, "Ok, but like, only if I can wear the awesomely hot outfit I brought. I
mean, I totally cant be seen in a hideous bridesmaids dress." Alexis laughed, "Sure,
wear whatever you want." "Really?! You dont mind that Ill be hotter than you?
Awesome!" Chelsea cried, and she packed up her manicure stuff and headed for the door,
"See you in a few hours!"
"Theres only one bathroom, so I took my shower and Jennys in there now. Its all
yours and Genevieves after that," Sam said. "I couldve joined you," Chelsea pouted.
"And wed be in there until tomorrow," he said, "Anyway, Im tired from golf and want
to take a little nap. I think Jenny could use one too. Shell be up pretty late tonight."
"Why dont you two nap in the living room, so Genevieve doesnt have to get dressed to
take a shower," Chelsea said. "Thanks," Genevieve said. "Good idea," Sam said. When
Jenny came out of the shower, Chelsea told her her Dad wanted her to take a nap in the
living room. "Do my nails look ok?" Jenny said, holding her hands out with their ten
perfect half-inch tapered fingernails. "They look awesome," Chelsea said, "After me
youre gonna be the hottest girl at the wedding." And she kissed Jenny on the head as
she ushered her out to the living room. Chelsea locked the bedroom door and turned to
Genevieve. "Oh, Chelsea, no, please," Genevieve pleaded, "We dont have that much
time." "Ok," Chelsea said sweetly. Then she pushed Genevieve on the bed and
smothered her with hot kisses. Genevieve sniffed, "Are you wearing a new perfume?"
"Huh? No…oh, its probably Alexis," Chelsea said, "Or maybe its Robs aftershave.
No, it cant be that because Alexis wouldve noticed it." "Oh my God, Chelsea, youre
unbelievable," Genevieve cried. "Mmmmm, youre pretty amazing yourself," Chelsea
moaned, guiding Genevieves long nails to her mound. "Thats not what I…oh, whats
the use," Genevieve sighed. When Chelsea had finished cumming, she got up.
Genevieve breathed relief that Chelsea was satisfied, and she could proceed with getting
ready. "Come on," Chelsea said quietly, streaking her long fingernails down
Genevieves body, and scratching her toenails up her leg, "Ill do you in the shower.
Like our first time."
Chelsea and Genevieve came out into the living room dressed except for their shoes.
Genevieve was wearing a long dark purple silk dress and carrying matching strappy
sandals with three inch heels. Her shiny black hair hung past her knees, held back from
her face by two purple clips just over her ears. Her toenails and long fingernails were
polished purple to match her dress, and her lipstick and heavy eye shadow were also
purple. Chelsea had on a tight red strapless, backless sequined mini-dress that pushed her
luscious breasts close together and high, and her hair was done up. In her hand was a pair
of clear acrylic strappy sandals with bright red six-inch heels. Her longish toenails were
always polished bright, glossy red, and now so were her perfect one inch-long fingernails.
She had on very little makeup, and wore only clear lip gloss, yet she looked like she just
stepped off the cover of a magazine. "Wow!" Sam said, "You both look incredible."
Sam went to the bedroom, then he turned and said, "Chelsea, could you please help Jenny
get into her flower girl dress?" "Ok," Chelsea said sweetly, "Then can I come help you
get out of your boxers?" "Save that thought for after the party, ok?" Sam said. "I
promise," Chelsea said. "I hate this stupid dress," Jenny whined to Chelsea, "I want one
like yours." "You have awesome taste," Chelsea said seriously, brushing Jennys blonde
hair. "I look like Halloween," Jenny pouted. "Here," Chelsea said, bringing out her
makeup kit, "Lets put a little eyeliner and shadow, and some blush. And some lip gloss.
And well hope your Dad doesnt notice. There, how does that look?" Jenny looked at
herself in the mirror and her eyes nearly popped. "Awesome!!" she cried, "I love you
Chelsea." "I love you too, Jenny," Chelsea said softly. Genevieve gasped. Sam came
out in his black tux, and Chelsea gave him a smoldering look and started breathing
heavily. "Now, behave," Sam said, "You promised." Chelsea bit his earlobe and
whispered, "I dont want to ruin the polish on my nails, or else I would claw your clothes
off…" "Lets get going, ok?" Sam said, escorting the three girls out the door.
CHAPTER 11…
"Are you the best man?" a lady asked at the church. "Yes, thats me," Sam answered.
"And Im the maid of honor," Chelsea added. Sam looked at her strangely, and Chelsea
just smiled and shrugged, "Alexis loves me." Genevieve rolled her eyes. "Well, you two
follow me please," the lady said, and then whispered to Chelsea, "Are you wearing that,
um, dress in the ceremony?" "Uh huh, I look awesome dont I!" Chelsea said, and the
lady was silent. The ceremony was brief but beautiful. Jenny looked adorable as a
flower girl, gracefully scattering rose petals down the aisle. As she walked by there were
a few gasps, mostly from middle-aged ladies in the audience, and whisperes of "My
goodness, did you see how long that little girls fingernails are?!" But nothing compared
to the mumbling and muttering when Sam and Chelsea walked down the aisle. In her
six-inch stiletto-heeled clear, strappy sandals, Chelsea stood six feet tall, and her low-cut,
strapless, backless red sequined mini-dress left practically nothing to anyones
imagination. And as they separated to take their respective places on the altar, Chelsea
took Sams face in her hands and gave him a lingering kiss, then let her bright-red one inch-
long nails trail slowly down his cheeks as she stepped back. A young priest who
introduced himself as Father Don performed the ceremony, noting that it was a special
honor for him since Rob was his big brother. Chelsea leaned over to Ricki, Alexis sister,
and whispered, "Hes hot isnt he." "For gosh sakes, hes a priest!" Ricki whispered
back. The ceremony was brief and traditional. Ricki leaned over to Chelsea and
whispered, "They were supposed to read their own vows they wrote. I wonder what
made them decide not to." But when Father Don said, "You may now kiss the bride,"
and Rob leaned in tenderly and closed his eyes, Alexis clutched his face with her bright-
red acrylic nails that Chelsea had reshaped for her, and she kissed her new husband in a
way that was straight out of a porno movie. Rob was beet-red and opened his eyes, and
Chelsea caught his gaze and she winked and silently mouthed, "Youre welcome."
The reception was back at the hotel, and before Sam and Chelsea took their seats at the
head table, Sam settled Jenny at the childrens table, and Chelsea introduced Genevieve
and Matt. "Wow, you look gorgeous!" Matt exclaimed. "Thanks," Chelsea said, and she
walked away. "I meant you," Matt said to Genevieve. "I know you did. Thank you,"
Genevieve smiled, "You look very handsome." "Thanks," Matt blushed. Genevieve
thought it was cute that he blushed. They werent sitting at the same table, but they
agreed to get together after dinner. The food was great and the liquor was flowing, and
there was a spectacular live band. Soon, everyone had a pretty good buzz on, and they
were dancing up a storm. Chelsea was center-stage of course. She had as much stamina
on a dance floor as she had in bed, and she radiated feminine sexuality to the four corners
of the banquet room. Her slow dancing was sensual and seductive, and her fast dancing
was provocative bordering on lewd. She danced with men and women alike, raking her
long red talons through the air in catlike motions, capturing her partners gaze with her
sultry hazel eyes. By mid-evening Chelsea had danced with everyone under the age of
fifty, and there wasnt a dry pussy or a flaccid cock in the room.
Genevieve danced mostly with Matt, her knee-length black hair flying during the fast
dances, and Matt stroking its silkiness through the slow dances. Even in her heels,
Genevieve was not quite five foot three, and Matt had to bend over to put his face next to
hers for the slow dances. "Is your back getting sore?" she asked him. "Huh? No! Im
good," Matt answered. "Mmmm, Im hoping you are," she giggled, slightly drunk.
"Youre, um, really mature for a junior," Matt said brightly. "Uh, thanks…I think,"
Genevieve said, finding it an odd compliment. She interlaced her fingers with his and
said softly, "Lets go back to your room," reaching her free hand over and gently
scratching the back of his hand with her long, dark-purple fingernails. And in an instant
they were gone.
Matts hands were shaking as he tried to slide the key card in the lock to his hotel room,
and the green light kept going off before he could turn the handle. Genevieve put her
hands on his and helped him unlock the door. She thought it was very cute that he was
nervous. "Its kind of a mess in here," Matt said. "Thats ok," Genevieve said. When
they were inside, Matt clumsily tried to kiss her, and they both giggled. "Tell you what,"
Genevieve said, "Why dont you wait in the bathroom, and Ill call you when Im ready.
Ok?" "Uh, sure, ok. Whatever," Matt said eagerly, and he closed the door to the
bathroom behind him. In a few minutes he heard Genevieve call him softly, and he came
out of the bathroom---still fully clothed---and went into the room. The room wasnt
totally dark, but the lights were dimmed very low. There on the bed was Genevieve,
half-sitting half-kneeling with her legs to one side, her voluminous black hair draped over
her little body like a silky shawl. "Y-youre l-like a g-g-goddess!" Matt gasped.
Genevieve smiled seductively and leaned back against the pillows, spreading her knees
slowly, still draped in her incredible, luxurious long hair. Gracefully she used her long
fingernails to comb her knee-length black hair away from between her legs, revealing her
glistening pussy. Matt was frozen, his eyes wild and his mouth open. Genevieve opened
her arms and turned her palms up, motioning him to her with her long, purple-polished
fingernails. "Wouldnt you like to get undressed?" she asked softly. Matt snapped out of
his trance and began flinging his clothes in every direction, hopping on one foot and
almost tripping as he first tried to pull his pants off over his shoes, and then as he was
pulling off his socks. He crawled to Genevieve on his knees, and in one gesture she
wrapped her arms and legs around him and pulled him into a long, hot kiss. Matt
embraced her, and he tried to enter her, but he kept missing the target. Genevieve gently
took his cock in her hand. "Oh, Matt!" she exclaimed, impressed with the size of his
member. As she guided it toward her hot pussy she stroked his cock with her long nails,
and suddenly she felt him shoot. "Oh shit! Oh shit!" Matt cried, about to hyperventilate,
"Im sorry. There must be something wrong with me. You probably want to go." And
he sat up, holding his head in his hands. Genevieve sat up and started scratching his back
with her long fingernails, "I dont want to go. We have all night." Then with her other
hand she began scratching his chest, and then his thighs, and then she touched his cock
with her nails and in a couple of light scratches, he was rock-hard again. "See," she said,
pulling him down on top of her, "Good as new." Genevieve guided him into her, and as
she felt his hugeness deep inside her she gasped, "Kiss me." She dragged her long nails
slowly down his back as she felt the waves of her first orgasm course through her little
body, and Matt moaned into their kiss.
Downstairs in the banquet hall, Chelsea took her shoes off at the table and ran to the
center of the room where all the single women gathered for Alexis to toss her bridal
bouquet. As the bouquet arched overhead, Chelsea lept three feet in the air, her legs
spread, and she reached up and caught the bouquet in one hand. Returning to earth with a
pirouette, she faced the other women and yelled a triumphant "Wooooo!" The other
women stood there in open-mouthed shock, having seen while Chelsea was airborne, that
she was not wearing panties. Chelsea ran back to the table to show Sam her prize. He
was slouched in a chair, panting and perspiring. His tuxedo jacket was hanging on the
chair back, his collar was open. "Oh my God, I totally love this song!" Chelsea cried,
trying to pull him to his feet. "I cant," Sam gasped, "I just cant. I have to rest for a few
minutes." Chelsea pouted. It seemed that most of the men were exhausted, because it
was mostly women on the dance floor. That didnt stop Chelsea of course, and she went
back out and started dancing again. Ricki was dancing with her boyfriend, and Chelsea
danced up to her and asked, "May I cut in?" The young man smiled and eagerly turned
to Chelsea, and Ricki huffed and started to walk away. Chelsea grabbed her arm, "I
meant, I want to dance with you." Ricki rolled her eyes and continued on back to her
table. When the song finished, Chelsea followed Rickis boyfriend back to the table and
sat down across from them, and she pulled off her six-inch-heeled strappy sandals.
"Youre pissed because Alexis made me her maid of honor?" Chelsea asked. "A little,"
Ricki said. Her boyfriend started breathing hard, and Ricki turned to him and asked him
if he was ok, and he quickly nodded. "I tried to talk her out of it," Chelsea said. "Yeah, I
bet you did," Ricki said. Her boyfriend groaned, and Ricki asked him again if he was
feeling ok, and again he just nodded quickly. "Ask Alexis yourself," Chelsea said.
"Maybe I will," Ricki said. Her boyfriend grabbed the edge of the table and sighed
loudly. "Do you need a doctor or something?" Ricki asked him. He shook his head and
gasped, "No, Im ok, really," and leaned back in his chair panting and exhausted. "I need
to freshen up," Chelsea said to Ricki, "Will you come with me?" "Ok, whatever," Ricki
said, getting up from her chair. "Ill be there in a sec," Chelsea said, "I have to put my
shoes back on." As she walked past Rickis boyfriend he looked up at her wide-eyed and
she smiled and whispered, "My toes are awesome, I know. And, youre welcome."
Inside the ladies room Chelsea looked in the stalls and saw that they were empty.
"Hey!" Ricki yelled as Chelsea shoved her into a stall, and followed her inside. Chelsea
said, "Whats really your problem?" "I dont have a problem," Ricki snapped. Chelsea
said, "You act like you dont like me." "Its not an act," Ricki said. "Everyone totally
loves me," Chelsea said. "Well I dont," Rickis nostrils flared and she hissed, "Youre
just so...so…" "Hot?" Chelsea offered brightly. Ricki looked like she was about to
explode. "Ok. Hot. I hate you!" Ricki screamed. "I think youre hot too," Chelsea
panted, and she brushed Rickis blonde hair off her face with her long, red fingernails,
leaned her against the stall wall and smothered her in a hot, wet, deep kiss. "What are
you doing….mmmmph….wait…..mmmmmmph….oh my God!" Ricki gasped between
Chelseas intoxicating kisses. She felt her knees get weak, and then she felt Chelseas
hand go up under her dress and gently work her panties down. Ricki squeaked as she felt
Chelseas long fingernails slide up into her pussy, and then she put her arms around
Chelsea and sank into another kiss, as Chelsea brought her to an explosive orgasm. "Do
me now," Chelsea whispered, guiding Rickis hand under her red-sequined mini-dress.
"Mmmmmm, youre really good," Chelsea moaned in a hoarse whisper, "But you really
should let your fingernails grow." They heard the bathroom door open and voices
speaking, but Chelsea sealed her lips over Rickis and held her against the stall, and Ricki
kept going until Chelsea climaxed. They waited until the other women left, then they
emerged from the stall. As they were washing up, Ricki put her hand on Chelseas
shoulder. "Please, promise you wont say anything to anyone about…us, this," Ricki
pleaded. "Im the worlds best secret-keeper," Chelsea smiled, going for the door. Ricki
stopped her and said, "None of my friends or family even suspects. How did you know I
was bisexual?" "I didnt," Chelsea smiled.
Back in the banquet hall, Jenny was sitting on Sams lap with her arms around him and
her head on his shoulder. "I think Ill take her upstairs and put both of us to bed," Sam
said to Chelsea. "Oh, ok," Chelsea said, "Im gonna hang out here a little while longer."
"Say goodnight to Chelsea, Jenny," Sam said. Chelsea opened her arms and Jenny
hugged her and kissed her. "Did you have a good time, sweetie?" Chelsea asked.
"Yeah," Jenny said, yawning, "A boy kept following me around all night." "Staring at
your nails when you werent looking?" Chelsea whispered in her ear. Jenny giggled, "Uh
huh. Later when he was gonna take a drink I sorta gently scratched his hand and asked
him if he liked my long fingernails and he dropped his glass and spilled his water all over
himself. It was awesome." Chelsea hugged Jenny tightly and then Sam picked her up
and carried her away.
CHAPTER 12…
The guests were beginning to leave, and the band announced the last song of the night.
Chelsea tried calling Genevieve but it went right into voicemail. She was thinking about
going up to Matts room and joining them in a threeway, when someone tapped her on
the shoulder. It was Father Don, Robs brother who had performed the ceremony. "I just
wanted to tell you how thrilled we all are that Sam has found happiness again. You must
be a remarkable woman," he said. Chelsea smiled, "Thanks," and she kissed him on the
cheek. "Oh…Im sorry, I guess I shouldnt have done that," Chelsea apologized. "Why
not?" Father Don asked. "Well, you know, on account of the whole celibacy thing,"
Chelsea said. Father Don laughed. "Does it like, hurt?" Chelsea asked. "Being
celibate?" he said. "Yeah. I mean, if I would like, not do it for even one day, I would
like, totally explode or something," Chelsea said. Father Don rolled his eyes. "Ooops,
sorry, TMI, huh?" Chelsea giggled, "Im a little drunk." "Its ok, Ive had a few drinks
myself," he chuckled, "FYI were allowed to do that." "Oh, well, then," Chelsea said,
picking up a half-full bottle of champagne that was on the table, "Itd be awful to see this
just go to waste, wouldnt it." Chelsea poured each of them a glass, and Father Don
toasted to Sam and Chelsea and future happiness. "So did you get a chance to have sex
before you became a priest?" Chelsea asked, making Father Don choke on his
champagne. "Yes, thanks for asking," he said when he could speak again, "I take it
youve never met a priest before." "Freshman year I met this guy at a rally, who was
gonna be a priest. He was in the seminar," Chelsea began. "Seminary," Father Don said,
smiling. "Yeah, that. Whatever. Anyway Im pretty sure he didnt go through with it."
Chelsea said, pouring them each another glass of champagne. "Really? Why is that?"
Father Don asked. Chelsea giggled, "I might have like, totally showed him he wasnt cut
out for a life of celibacy. You probably dont notice but Im like, awesomely hot."
Father Don sighed, "Not everyone is cut out for a life of celibacy. And yes, I do notice
that youre, uh, how did you put it?...awesomely hot. Im still a man." "Wait, youre not
allowed to reveal anything I tell you, right?" Chelsea asked. "Thats only if youre
making confession," he informed her. "Oops. I better watch what I say then, huh," she
giggled, emptying the bottle of champagne into his glass. "Its getting really late," he
said, looking at his watch, and he stood up. Father Don took a couple steps and wobbled
and Chelsea caught him. "Wow, that champagne went straight to my head," he said.
"Cmon, Ill help you back to your room," Chelsea said sweetly, putting his arm around
her shoulder and her arm around his waist. Father Don looked at Chelseas one inch-long red
fingernails and asked, "How can you do anything with such long nails?" "Oh…I do
everything I need to do with them," she said smiling.
By the time they got to his room, Father Don was still very unsteady, and he felt dizzy.
He searched his suit coat pockets for the key card but couldnt find it. "Let me look,"
Chelsea said, fishing in his trouser pockets. He felt her nails scrape his legs as she dug
around, and he took her wrists. "Am I tickling you with my sharp fingernails?" she
asked, "Im sorry." She found the key card and swiped it in the lock, and helped him
inside. He sat on the bed, holding his head. "I just know by tomorrow Im going to feel
like Id been dancing with the devil," he groaned. "Totally," Chelsea said softly as she
sat down next to him. "My head is spinning," Father Don said. "This looks really tight,"
she said, slipping her one inch-long pinkie nail under his priests collar by his Adams apple.
He gently grasped her hand and tried to pull it away. "Be careful, you might make me
scratch you," she said, gently stroking his face with the rest of her nails, "My fingernails
are really sharp." Chelsea put her knee against his chest and easily pushed him down on
his back, then she slipped her toes under his belt and into his boxers. He grabbed her
calf, but in his intoxicated state he was no match for her strong, toned leg. "Careful," she
giggled softly, "My toenails are really sharp too," as she curled her toes and grasped his
cock. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," Chelsea whispered, licking and kissing his
neck, and slipping her hand into his shirt and raking his chest slowly with her long, red
fingernails. "My last confession was…um…like, never!" she giggled softly. "What?
Huh?" Father Don gasped in confusion and panic. "Now you cant ever tell anyone," she
whispered, and then she engulfed his lips with hers.
CHAPTER 13…
The next morning all the out-of-town guests were invited to a breakfast. Sam tried to
wake Chelsea but it was no use. He got dressed and went into the suites living room to
wake Jenny, and noticed that Genevieve wasnt there. Jenny opened her eyes and said,
"Im hungry Daddy." So Sam told her to hurry up and get dressed, and the two of them
went downstairs to the private buffet. "Where are the bride and groom?" he asked. One
of his and Robs buddies wife laughed out loud. Ricki turned her head away. "What?"
Sam said, "What does everyone else know that I dont?" Another buddy took him aside
and told him that the entire floor could hear screaming and moaning from both Rob and
Alexis the whole night long. "It sounded like they were making a porno flick," he
chuckled. Sam laughed, "Maybe they were. Anybody checked YouTube yet?"
"Wheres Father Don?" Sam asked. One of the others said, "Rickis boyfriend saw him
checking out around seven. He said Don seemed really distraught over something, he
wouldnt say a word, and just took off." "Weird," Sam said, "Its so not like him, hes
always polite. I hope its nothing serious." "Wheres your honey and her gal-pal?" the
other guy asked. "Chelseas definitely not a morning person," Sam laughed, "Ill be
lucky if I get her up and out by late-checkout time. And I havent seen Genevieve since
dessert last night." "Ha, I bet she got some," the guy laughed, "I wonder who the lucky
guy was. Geez, I hope it wasnt Father Don." "Hey, dont even joke about something
like that," Sam laughed, "Or youll wind up in hell for sure." Just then Jenny came up
with a little curly-haired boy in tow. "Daddy, this is Joshua," she said, smiling. Sam
looked at his buddy and the buddy slapped him on the back, "And so it starts." "No! No,
it doesnt start. Nothing is starting. Not this soon, Im not ready," Sam exclaimed.
Jenny giggled, "Oh, Daddy! We dont like each other! Ewww! He just likes to look at
my long fingernails."
By the time Sam got back to the room, Genevieve was there, still dressed from the night
before. "What time do we have to leave?" she asked. "Late checkout is at one…thats in
about an hour," he said, "Could you maybe see if you can get Chelsea up and dressed?"
"Sure, I guess," Genevieve said, and she went into the bedroom and gently shook Chelsea
by the shoulder. Chelsea rolled on her back and opened her eyes a little and yawned.
"Mmmmm, you look really beautiful," she said, grasping the hem of Genevieves dress.
"Oh, Chelsea, no, we dont have time," she whispered, "And Sam and Jenny are in the
next room." As soon as she said it she realized it was the wrong thing to have said, and
she saw the smoldering look in Chelseas eyes. The next thing she felt were Chelseas
one inch-long fingernails clutching her thighs, pulling her into the bed, and pulling her
panties down. "Chels, Im really sore," Genevieve whispered, "I swear, Matt never got
soft the entire night. Hes like the Energizer Bunny." "Oh, ok," Chelsea whispered.
"Thanks," Genevieve said. "Do me then," Chelsea whispered, grasping Genevieves
hand. Just then Sam hollered, "Can I come in? I need to pack my stuff." Chelsea
hollered, "Just a second, Sam, Genevieves going in to take a shower." "Ok," he
hollered. "Ok its safe," Chelsea said, and Sam opened the door. "Where are you?" he
said. "Im in the bathroom taking the polish off my fingernails," she hollered above the
sound of the water running, "Ill take a shower as soon as Genevieve is done." "Oh, ok,"
Sam said.
"That purple nail polish is driving me wild," Chelsea said, climbing into the tub with
Genevieve. "Im surprised any of its left this morning," Genevieve laughed, "Or that
Matt has any skin left on his back." Chelsea smothered Genevieve with a hot kiss and
brought her little hand to her mound. "While youre doing me, tell me about how you
clawed him with your long, purple nails," Chelsea purred, licking her lips. "Oh my God,
Chels, Ive never been so out of control," Genevieve exclaimed as she worked Chelseas
clit with her nails, "I just couldnt stop myself, I dug my nails in and scratched him as
hard as I could." "Ohhhhhhh, God," Chelsea moaned, "Did he scream?" "Im sure he
must have, but I really dont remember, I was so turned on," Genevieve said.
"Mmmmmm I so wouldve loved to be there," Chelsea moaned, then she kissed
Genevieve again and whispered, "Scratch my back." "Chelsea, I dont know…,"
Genevieve said. "Please!" Chelsea begged, "I want to know what it feels like." "Itll
leave marks. Sam will see," Genevieve reminded her. "Oh my God, nail marks on my
perfect body?! No way! Do it soft so it doesnt leave marks, ok?" Chelsea said. "Ok,"
Genevieve said, gently raking Chelseas back with one hand while she fondled her clit
with the other, "Hows that?" "Mmmmmm, wonderful," Chelsea sighed. Genevieve said,
"Hes huge Chelsea. I mean, Matt is enormous. And he would cum, and still be hard as
a rock, and just keep screwing me…like a machine." "I know!" Chelsea gushed. "What
do you mean you know?" Genevieve asked but quickly cried, "Oh my God, you slept
with him, too?!" "As if I would hook my BFF up with some guy if I didnt know he was
awesome in bed!" Chelsea exclaimed, "But dont worry, I dont want him. Hes all
yours." "Gee, thanks a bunch," Genevieve said. "Youre welcome, totally," Chelsea said
warmly, oblivious to Genevieves sarcasm. "Matt said after he graduates in June he
wants to move up to be near me," Genevieve said quietly, "He said he wants to go to
medical school." "Thats awesome, Genevieve," Chelsea said, then she grasped
Genevieve by the shoulders. "You know Ill never let anybody take you away from me.
Not ever," Chelsea said with icy determination. "Oww, your nails are digging into me.
D-dont w-worry," Genevieve whimpered. "Im not worried," Chelsea smiled, relaxing
her fingers. And as the warm shower cascaded over them both, she sealed her mouth
over Genevieves trembling lips in a powerful kiss.
Jenny and Genevieve slept in the back seat of Sams Range Rover as he drove home.
"My friends that had a chance to spend time with you really seemed to love you," Sam
said to Chelsea. "Its too bad it was such a short time," she said, admiring her ten perfect
long fingernails, "I bet if I had longer, I couldve gotten around to all of them." Chelsea
turned sideways and rested her feet in Sams lap. He caressed them with one hand and
said, "I love you Chelsea." "Mmmmm, that feels good," she said, curling her toes around
his fingers and rubbing her heels into his crotch. "Did you have a nice time?" Sam asked.
"Weddings are awesome," she said, clicking her one inch-long fingernails on the dash.
"What was your favorite part?" he asked. "The sex," she answered immediately,
reaching over and dragging a nail down Sams neck. Sam laughed, "I liked that part
too…but I meant, what part of the wedding itself?" "Ummm, well, I love to dance. Oh,
and I love champagne," she said, "But my really favorite part was when I caught the
bouquet." "Really?" Sam exclaimed. "Yeah, I mean, those other girls so didnt deserve
it. Im so much hotter than them," Chelsea said. "You do know what its supposed to
mean when you catch the bouquet, dont you?" Sam asked. "That Im the awesomest girl
at the wedding?" she said. "Uh…well, actually its supposedly that youll be the next
one to get married," he said. "I knew that," she said. Then after a few moments of
silence she said, "But I was the awesomest girl there." "No one else even came close,"
he assured her, "In fact, youre the awesomest woman in the world." Chelsea gave him a
smoldering look and started to climb into his seat. Sam gasped, "Chelsea! Besides youll
get us killed, there are two other people in the car and one of them is my eight year-old
daughter! Lets wait until we get home, ok?" Chelsea pouted and sat back in her seat
and put her feet up on the dash. Soon Sam heard Chelseas breathing get ragged, and the
sound of her longish toenails scraping the dash, and he glanced quickly to the side and
saw that she had her eyes closed and both hands under her skirt. Soon she sighed audibly
and opened her eyes. "I guess you couldnt wait," Sam said. "Nuh-uh," Chelsea shook
her head and bit her lower lip and started slowly dragging her long fingernails along his
arm. "Please, Chelsea, I promise as soon as we get home," Sam whispered. Chelsea
pouted and folded her arms and scrunched down in her seat. A few moments later Sam
felt long fingernails scratching his arm again and said in a loud whisper, "For the love of
God, youre driving me mad!" "Im sorry Daddy," came a sweet little voice. "Huh?
What? Oh…no, I mean…," Sam stammered, seeing Jennys little fingers with their very
long nails resting on his arm. Chelsea was cracking up in the next seat. "Princess, please
sit back and put your seatbelt back on. Its not safe for you to be unbuckled. Daddy
doesnt want you to get hurt if we have to stop fast," Sam said. "Ok Daddy," Jenny said
compliantly.
Genevieve woke up and asked how much longer they had to go. "About another hour
and a half," Sam said. "Sam I didnt have a chance to say it before, but thank you so
much for bringing me along," Genevieve said. "It was entirely my pleasure," he said,
"Youre really easy to have around. You feel like one of the family. I hope you had a
good time." "Oh my God, Genevieve totally met the guy of her dreams!" Chelsea
squealed, "Hes going to be a doctor." "Wow! Thats terrific!" Sam exclaimed.
Genevieve sighed, "I hope he gets into medical school close to me…I mean, to us. Matt
is so amazing." "Matt?! You dont mean Robs cousin Matt?" Sam asked hesitantly.
"Yes…why?" Genevieve asked. "Well…uh…Genevieve, I think it might be a while
before Matt gets into medical school," Sam said, glancing uneasily at Chelsea before
returning his gaze to the road. "Why? Hes a senior," Genevieve said. "Um,
yes…um…a senior in high school," Sam said. "Oh my God!" Genevieve cried,
"Chelsea!!" "I totally didnt know, I swear!" Chelsea exclaimed, "I mean, he did ask me
if you were my little sister, but like, you do look about fourteen. Oh and now that I think
about it, he asked me what grade you were in, not what year." "God, Chelsea, and
that didnt make you think?" Genevieve cried. "Hey, Im a sociology major. Youre the
English major," Chelsea laughed. "Its so not funny!" Genevieve screamed, "Oh my God,
he told me I was really mature for a junior. I thought it was a bizarre thing to say, but
he was so nervous and cute and…" "And you were so totally horny for him," Chelsea
giggled. "What does horny mean?" Jenny asked. Sam glared at Chelsea with panic.
Chelsea put her hand over and honked the car horn. "Like that. Horny," she said
smiling. "Oh, ok," Jenny said. "Oh my God," Genevieve cried suddenly, "Sam…please
tell me Matt is eighteen." "His birthday was last Saturday. So the cops wont be after
you," Sam snickered. After a short time, Jenny and Genevieve both settled back and fell
asleep again, and Sam whispered to Chelsea, "That bit with honking the horn was a
brilliant save." Chelsea smiled. "Youd make a good mom," he said. Suddenly
Chelseas lips were on his, his face held captive by her ten sharp, one inch-long fingernails,
her head turned so he could see the road while she kissed him---sweetly, softly, tenderly--
-for what seemed like an eternity. When the kiss ended, Chelsea sat back on her seat, still
holding his hand, and she stretched her legs into his lap. It startled him when he felt her
soft toes grasp his cock, which she had managed take out of his pants without him
feeling, when she was kissing him. He had no time to protest, because she immediately
curled her toes and began stroking his shaft with the sharp tips of her longish red-
polished toenails and at the same time lightly dragging her long fingernails up and down
the sensitive underside of his arm, until he shot his load. "I hope you like, have some
Kleenex," Chelsea giggled, as Sam looked down and saw his jizz all over the front of his
shirt, and the steering wheel. Chelseas toes were covered with it too, but she just
grasped her ankles and brought her toes to her mouth and licked and sucked them clean.
"Mmmmmm," she said softly, and she rested her feet on the center console, pulled her
skirt up, and slowly drove herself to climax with her long fingernails. "Jesus, Chelsea,"
Sam whispered, checking the rear-view mirror and sighing with relief that Jenny was still
sleeping soundly, "You couldnt have saved that for when we got home?" Chelsea
smiled the contented smile of someone who had just had a very satisfying orgasm, and
she whispered, "Theres lots more for when we get home."
CHAPTER 14…
Sam brought everyones luggage upstairs, and Genevieve said again that she really had a
great time. Chelsea unlocked her apartment, and Sam said, "Youre coming over, right?"
"In a while," she said, "I need to like, hang up some stuff before it wrinkles." "Ok, but
then come over right after, ok?" Sam said. "Mmmmm, you cant wait, can you?" she
said lustfully, scraping her long, clear fingernails seductively down the wooden door. As
they went inside, Genevieves phone sounded and she looked at it and went, "Oh my
God, Matt is texting me! Oh my God, it says he misses me already and he loves me and
cant wait to see me again. What am I gonna do, Chels?" "Christmas break is just
around the corner," Chelsea offered. "Are you serious? I cant see him again…now that
I know," Genevieve cried. "What I know is, hes eighteen, hes huge, he can screw all
night, and hes totally into you," Chelsea said. "Hes totally in-love with me!"
Genevieve whined. "Thats even more awesome," Chelsea said. "You really think I
should hook up with him at Christmas break?" Genevieve asked. Chelsea exclaimed,
"Totally! We can do a threeway, itll be awesome!"
Chelsea unpacked her clothes and changed into her favorite extra-long tee-shirt, which
she wore with nothing else underneath. Barefoot, she went next door to Sams
apartment. Sam was sitting on the couch in a tee-shirt and lounge pants, and he opened
his arms for Chelsea. Chelsea motioned him toward the bedroom, but Sam said, "Come
sit with me for a minute, ok?" "Ok, just for a minute," she said, sitting next to him,
admiring her long fingernails and then scratching them on his arm seductively, "I cant
wait any longer than that." "I was thinking," Sam began, "I was in a bad place when
Jennys mom died, and I sold our house and moved here. And it turned out to be a
blessing, because thats how I met you. But now…" "Oh my God are you like, breaking
up with me?" Chelsea cried. "Oh, God no!" Sam gasped, "Please…hear me out, ok?"
"Ok," she said. He took her hands, and she clasped her fingers through his. He could
feel the sharp tips of her one inch-long fingernails pressing into his hand. Sam continued,
"As I was saying, now I think its unfair of me to make Jenny grow up in a little
apartment. She deserves a house, with a nice yard, on a street with trees and other kids
her age to play with." "O…kay…," Chelsea said, "And…?" "And I was wondering if
you would like to help me…help us, Jenny and me…pick out the perfect house," he said.
"I dont know anything about houses," Chelsea said. "Well if theres anything I know
about you its that you know what you like…what you want," Sam said. Chelsea stroked
her nails down his face and swirled her tongue inside his ear and whispered, "Yes and I
want to have sex. Like, now. So are we like, done here?"
"Almost," Sam said, perspiring, his voice starting to tremble, "The thing is…the reason I
asked if you wanted to help pick out a house is…well…I…I mean, we, Jenny and
me…are hoping you will come live in it with us, and…." "You want me to move in with
you? Um…ok, why not," Chelsea said quickly, and added, "Genevieve will like having
her own room." "Wait, Chelsea, please let me finish," Sam cried. "Theres more?"
Chelsea whined, "Im sooooo horny." Sam closed his eyes for a second and took a deep
breath, "I guess Id better just do this," and he reached behind him between the couch
cushions and brought out a little black velvet box and he tilted the lid open toward
Chelsea. Chelseas eyes widened and she swallowed hard. "Will you marry me?" Sam
asked. Chelseas mouth was moving but there were no words coming out. "Chelsea?
Are you alright?" Sam asked, "Hey, dont worry, if you want to think about it…" "Ok,"
Chelsea said very quietly. "Sure, take your time," Sam said with a note of
disappointment. Chelsea said, "No, I meant ok like, ok Ill marry you." "Yes?" Sam
said. "Yes," Chelsea said, and she repeated with a huge smile, "Yes!" Eagerly she
slipped the ring on her finger and admired it. "It looks lovely on you. You have such
beautiful hands," Sam said. "Oh my God, I cant wait to tell Genevieve," Chelsea
gushed, then she looked at Sam and said, "Genevieve totally has to live with us. Shes
my BFF…I so couldnt live without her." Sam saw the intensity in Chelseas eyes and
sighed, "I want whatever makes you happy." In a heartbeat Sam was drowning in
Chelseas warm-honey kiss. Quickly she pulled his rock-hard cock through the fly in his
lounge pants and straddled him on her knees, taking him deep inside her hot, dripping-
wet pussy, and she began rolling her hips slowly and rhythmically while she slipped her
hands behind him and raked his back with her long, natural fingernails to the same
rhythm. Suddenly Jennys voice came from her bedroom, "Well, Daddy? Did you ask
her yet?" And they heard the door open and Jenny was by the couch in a second.
Jenny giggled, "Youre sitting on my Daddys lap just like I do." Sam and Chelsea
looked at each other. Sams eyes were terror-stricken but Chelsea was about to crack up.
"So did you, Daddy? Did you ask her?" Jenny persisted. "Yes, I asked her," Sam said.
He felt Chelseas pussy constrict around his cock and glared at her, but the look she
returned him was pure lust. "Well?" Jenny asked. Chelsea held her hand for Jenny to see
the ring on her finger. "I said yes," Chelsea said softly, and she leaned forward and
brushed her wet lips along Sams neck. Although her body was completely still, Sam
could feel her working his cock with her pussy, and it was driving him wild. "Stop it," he
whispered very quietly, smiling, hoping Jenny wouldnt hear. "No way. Im cumming"
she whispered back, and he felt her pussy pulling his cock even harder. Jenny climbed up
on the couch and put her arms around both of them and kissed them. "Im so happy," she
squealed, "Chelsea? After you and Daddy get married, can I call you Mommy then?
Daddy said I cant just do it, I have to ask you first. Oh, and Ill still love you even if you
dont want me to." "Oh my God, you totally can call me Mommy," Chelsea said, rivers
of tears flowing down her cheeks. "Awesome!" Jenny screeched, "Isnt it awesome.
Daddy?" Sam smiled and nodded excitedly, trying desperately not to groan or moan or
do anything that would arouse Jennys curiosity, because at that moment he was
cumming inside Chelsea. "Do you think you could go back to your room now,
princess?" Sam said breathlessly, "Daddy and Chelsea have some grownup things we
need to talk about." "Ok," Jenny said, and she turned around. "Jenny…I totally love
you," Chelsea called after her. "I totally love you too," Jenny said, as she closed her
bedroom door. "I totally love you too," Sam said. Chelsea sealed her lips over his and
drove her tongue halfway down his throat as she clawed his tee-shirt off and pulled hers
off over her head and grabbed his arm and dragged him into the bedroom.
Chelsea left Sam sprawled on his back around two in the morning, fatigued into a deep
sleep. His hair was matted from sweat, his lips swollen from hours of forceful, relentless
kisses, and his neck, chest and thighs were spotted with a blanket of purple hickeys. And
long, thin pink trails lined his body from head to foot, from Chelseas long, sexy natural
nails. Even the backs of his legs were marked from Chelseas sharp, red-polished
toenails which she had dug into him and clawed him, as the ecstasy of each successive
earth-shattering orgasm had driven her wilder and wilder. Never before in her life had
Chelseas lust burned that white-hot. Never before had she completely lost all humanity
to her sexual hunger. Never before had the full, unfathomable power and fury of her
feminine animal sexuality been unleashed. Chelsea licked her sleeping lovers cheek,
tasting the salty perspiration, and she ran her long fingernails gently over his exhausted
body. She wanted to take him again, but she knew he had nothing left to give. She
slipped into her long tee-shirt and padded on bare feet to the front door, out into the hall,
and into her apartment. As soon as she closed the door she flung her tee-shirt off and
sprinted to the bedroom.
Genevieve woke suddenly, startled by Chelseas hot, damp body on top of her, and the
onslaught of her lips, tongue, teeth and nails. "Chelsea, I was sound asleep," Genevieve
whined, "What time is it." Chelsea switched on the light. "Shit!" Genevieve cried,
shielding her eyes from the brightness. "Im gonna be a mom!" Chelsea said. "What!?"
Genevieve screamed, "Oh my God, youre pregnant? Do you have a clue who the father
is?" "Shut up!" Chelsea giggled, "I am so not pregnant! Im gonna be Jennys mom."
"Youre not making any sense at all," Genevieve said. Chelsea held her hand out in front
of Genevieve. Her dark eyes nearly popped. "Oh my God!" she gasped, and then she
screamed, "Oh my God oh my God oh my God!!!" She took Chelseas hand and
inspected the ring, "It looks like at least two carats. Its gorgeous. Oh my God."
"Congratulations Chelsea. Im so happy for you Chelsea. Whens the wedding
Chelsea?" Chelsea said sarcastically. "Oh my God," Genevieve repeated, "Im sorry
Chelsea, I meant congratulations and of course Im happy for you. Its just such a shock.
Are you sure about this?" "Why would you ask me that?" Chelsea asked, but before
Genevieve could speak she said, "Oh, I know. Youre afraid of losing me. But that
wont ever happen. I told Sam when we get a house that youre moving in with us. Now
that thats settled, lets celebrate." And Chelsea spread her hands and placed her one inch-
long fingernails on Genevieves shoulders and gently dragged them down her arms while
she sucked and nibbled Genevieves surprisingly large nipples until they were rock hard.
"Oh Chelsea, what am I going to do with you?" Genevieve sighed as she felt Chelseas
toenails lightly scratching up and down her legs. "Love me," Chelsea whispered, softly
clawing Genevieves sides with her long, natural fingernails, "Just love me," and right
before she sealed her lips over Genevieves she whispered, "Tell me you love me." "I---I
love you," Genevieve gasped, as she felt Chelseas fingernails glide lightly over her
mound and tease her swollen little bud. "Always?" Chelsea asked, "Will you always love
me?" "Y-Yes…oh God, yes…always…forever…ohhhh God," Genevieve cried, feeling
Chelseas one inch-long nails slide slowly up into her, and together with her thumbnail strum
her clit like a harp. Chelsea rolled completely on top of Genevieve and ushered her little
hand between her own legs, guiding Genevieves long, slender fingernails into her.
"Ohhhh, Genevieve, nobody can do me like you can," Chelsea purred, thrusting her hips
against Genevieves fingers, sucking hard on her little neck, and gently scratching her
swollen nipples with her remaining hand. "Scratch my back with your other hand,"
Chelsea panted, and Genevieve obliged. "Mmmmmm, your nails are sooooo amazingly
sharp," Chelsea moaned, and she closed her teeth on Genevieves shoulder as she felt her
first orgasm wash over her. Chelsea slid quickly down and clutched Genevieves thighs
with her fingernails and drove her tongue into Genevieves pussy. Genevieve thrashed,
partly from the insane sexual pleasuring and partly from the pain of Chelseas long, sharp
nails, but Chelsea held her firmly and brought Genevieve to a shuddering climax.
Chelsea slid back up and fed her hard, swollen nipples to Genevieve, bringing her hands
behind her and compelling Genevieve to sink her nails into Chelseas rock-hard ass as
she slipped her hands under Genevieve and slowly clawed her back. As had been the
case with Sam earlier, Chelsea gave in completely to her feminine animal sexual desires,
ravishing Genevieve with unprecedented urgency and lust.
This time, after two more hours of intense sex, Chelseas sexual needs were finally
satisfied for the night, and she and Genevieve lay side-by-side on their backs, drenched in
sweat, breathing deeply. "So, when is the wedding?" Genevieve panted. "Sam and I
didnt talk about it yet. He wants me to adopt Jenny legally, you know, so in case
something happens to him, nobody can take her away from me. So I hope well get
married soon." "Well, you and Sam already have a priest who can marry you,"
Genevieve began. "Um…I think that might be kinda majorly awkward," Chelsea
interjected. Genevieve gasped, "Oh, no! Chelsea…oh my God, tell me you didnt…No!
Wait! Dont tell me at all. That one I dont want to know." "Ok," Chelsea said matter-
of factly, raising her hand and admiring her diamond engagement ring…and her nails.
"Chelsea, have you seriously thought this through?" Genevieve asked, rolling on her side
to face Chelsea. "Oh, Genevieve, Im tired," Chelsea whined, covering her face with her
hands. "Youve only known Sam a couple months. For instance have you talked about
babies?" Genevieve asked. "You mean, like, me do that to this body?" Chelsea said,
admiring her perfect figure, and she laughed, "As if!" "What if Sam wants babies?"
Genevieve asked. Chelsea said, "Trust me, Genevieve, I can handle Sam." "Do you
even love him?" Genevieve asked, "Because for starters, just this weekend you cheated
on him with three people, not counting me." "Actually it was five…wait…does a footjob
count? cause then its six," Chelsea offered sincerely, "But it doesnt matter because that
was then and this is now." "Ok, this is my last shot," Genevieve sighed as she turned out
the light, "Chelsea, youve seduced hundreds of married people, but you were always
single. Once youre married, if you have sex with someone else, youll also be the one
cheating on your husband. Just think about that." Chelsea smiled and thought to herself,
"Awesome!"
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Part 4
SEX, LIES and AWESOME NAILS - Part 4
CHAPTER 1…
Chelsea and Sam got engaged in November, but decided to wait to get married until the
following June when Jennys school year was finished. They figured it could take until
then to find the perfect house, close the deal, and move in. As it turned out, things went
much faster than planned, and they were moved in by early May. It was a newish home
in a nice family subdivision with large lots, on a tree-lined street. Upstairs, the house had
a large master bedroom with a cathedral ceiling and a master bathroom with an enormous
tub and shower made to resemble a rock grotto. At the other end of a very long hallway,
there were two smaller bedrooms, the larger of which was Jennys, and in-between was
another bathroom. A spiral staircase led from the middle of the long hallway down to a
marble foyer, and just off that, there was a huge open kitchen. Beyond the kitchen there
was another large bedroom and bathroom, which was called a mother-in-law suite but
basically designed for a live-in servant. Chelsea told Sam it would be perfect for
Genevieve, giving them all privacy from one another, and he readily agreed, having been
to that point somewhat less than thrilled with the idea of Genevieve sharing their marital
home, even though he had no clue that she and Chelsea were lovers. The house was
vacant and Chelsea had watched the realtor input the combination in the lock-box, so that
night she brought Genevieve to show her. Genevieve was also relieved that she would
have some privacy in her new quarters and gave Chelsea a kiss on the cheek…to which
Chelsea had responded by sealing her lips over Genevieves and dragging her fully-
dressed into the suites marble shower, clawing her wet clothes off her tiny body with her
one inch-long fingernails and ushering Genevieves dark red long nails deep inside her pussy.
Afterward while their clothes were in the dryer, Chelsea had taken Genevieve by the
hand up the carpeted spiral staircase, stopped halfway, and made love to her again. "I
totally cant wait to be married," Chelsea had sighed, "Youll be my maid of honor,
right?" "Mmmmmppphhh," Genevieve had said, her face held captive against Chelseas
hot pussy, to which Chelsea had panted, "I knew you would. Youre so my BFF!"
They moved in on a Friday, and Saturday morning Chelsea went for a run around the
neighborhood, dressed in running shorts and a tube top, with her long brown hair pulled
back in a ponytail. There were kids bikes and toys scattered on most of the lawns, and
swing sets and climbing bars in most of the back yards. She passed several nice-looking
young men taking bags of trash to the curb, and she delighted in their lusty stares, and in
knowing that after she passed they continued to watch her perfect, tight ass and long,
toned legs. There was a park at the far end of the block, with a paved track around the
perimeter and a dirt running path through a thickly-wooded area. A tall, well-built man
came running up alongside her and smiled. "Im Doug," he said, breathing hard. "Hi, Im
Chelsea," she said, not even slightly winded. "You new in the neighborhood?" Doug
asked, wiping sweat from his brow. "We moved in yesterday," she said. "We?" he
asked. "Me, my fiance, and his eight year-old daughter…oh, and my BFF. She has like,
her own suite," Chelsea answered smiling. "My wife and I have a two year-old girl and
were expecting in July," Doug said. "So your wife is like, really preggers," Chelsea
smiled. She watched Dougs expression as his eyes swept her perfect sexy body from top
to bottom. "Wanna race?" Chelsea giggled. "What kind of a prize to I get if I win,"
Doug said, trying to be witty and suave. "You wont," Chelsea said confidently, and she
picked up her pace. After three laps around the perimeter track, Doug was falling farther
behind. Chelsea turned around and was running backwards, still outpacing him, still not
even breathing heavily or perspiring a lot. "Any time you want to concede, we can stop,"
she said sweetly. They entered the dirt path through the woods, and Chelsea turned
around forward and shouted, "Ok, Im gonna sprint the last half mile, so Ill see you in a
few," and she took off like a shot. Eventually Doug came huffing and puffing along and
met up with Chelsea who was jogging in place. He stumbled to a halt and plopped down
on a flat boulder just off the path and took a drink from his water bottle. Chelsea sat
down next to him and handed him her unopened water bottle. "Open this for me, ok?"
she pleaded, "I like, worry about breaking a nail." "Wow, those are some nails!" he said
breathlessly. "Do you like them?" she asked sweetly. "Oh yeah! My wife used to have
long nails…well, not like yours, but kind of long…It drove me nuts when she touched
me. She cut them just before she had the first baby, and she never grew them back,"
Doug lamented, pulling his sweat-drenched tee-shirt off over his head. "Thats so sad,"
Chelsea said. Her sultry hazel eyes scanned his muscular, hairy chest and she licked her
lips. "Oh man," he wheezed, changing the subject, "Talk about coming in second in a
two-man race. This is really embarrassing." "Aww, Im sorry," she said sweetly, "I
think you deserve a consolation prize." Doug started to chuckle but it quickly turned to a
deep gasp as Chelsea spread all her fingers across his collarbone and slowly stroked her
one inch-long natural fingernails through his chest hair, stopping to scratch his nipples gently,
then continued scratching him down his sides, then back up his arms to his shoulders.
"Y-you shouldnt…I m-mean…dont…," Doug stammered. "Im so sorry!" Chelsea
cried, "I was totally not thinking…what with your wife all pregnant, youre probably
ready to burst. Im sorry my loooooong fingernails got you all horny. Forgive me?"
"Um…yeah…" Doug panted uneasily. "Really?!" Chelsea asked. "Sure," he said.
"Thank you," Chelsea sighed, and she smiled. "Hug?" she asked, opening her arms.
Chelsea wrapped her arms around him and, feeling her warm embrace, Doug relaxed and
embraced her as well. He felt her warm lips brush his neck as she turned her face to his.
"Kiss?" she whispered, and as he gasped in response to feeling her long fingernails streak
slowly across his bare back, she sealed her mouth over his and slid her tongue deep
inside. Overhead, the sky and tall trees seemed to spin around, and in a moment he was
on his back in the soft, thick grass behind the large boulder, fondling Chelseas firm,
lucious breasts and caressing her hard, flat stomach while she rode him slowly and
sensually. He watched and felt her ten incredible long unpolished fingernails rake his
chest and arms. Occasionally she would arch her back and moan as she climaxed,
reaching back and scratching his legs with her nails, and then lean all the way forward
and drown him with a passionate kiss. After Chelsea allowed Doug to cum, she held his
head and put his water bottle to his lips. "You need to hydrate," she offered. In a few
minutes, with Chelseas help, Doug was able to get to his feet. His face was racked with
guilt and confusion and he opened his mouth to speak but Chelsea put her long fingernail
to his lips and whispered, "Shhh. You dont need to thank me." Dougs eyes were wild,
but he was barely able to stand, and he was breathing too hard to talk. Chelsea kissed
him on the cheek and said sweetly, "Race you again tomorrow!" And she took off
sprinting like a gazelle and was out of sight in a moment.
Chelsea came into their kitchen and plopped down on a high chair by the counter, next to
Sam who was eating a bowl of cereal. She took down her ponytail and fluffed her long
brown hair with her long-nailed fingers, and she took off her running sneakers and socks.
"My feet are soooo hot and damp,"she whined, laying them in Sams lap, giving him a
sultry look and playfully rubbing his crotch with her red-painted toes, "Rub them for
me?" "Jenny and Genevieve will be up for breakfast any minute," Sam protested.
Chelsea rolled her eyes, "I just want you to rub my feet. I promise, thats all." Sam
obliged, but in moments Chelsea worked his cock out of his boxers with her toes, got him
hard with her longish toenails, and crawled onto his lap, impailing herself on his shaft
and wrapping her long legs behind the chair. "So much for your promise," Sam sighed.
"I meant it when I promised, thats what counts," Chelsea said sincerely, and she closed
her teeth on Sams neck as she tightened her pussy around his cock and orgasmed. They
heard the upstairs toilet flush and knew Jenny was about to come downstairs. "Chelsea!"
Sam cried, trying to push her off him. She looked at him with half-closed eyes and
engulfed his lips with hers, gyrating her hips rapidly, and he felt himself rise rapidly to a
climax and shoot inside her. Jenny padded barefoot across the marble foyer as Sam
hurried to tuck his cock back inside his boxers. "Good morning, princess!" he said
cheerfully, trying to hide the fact that he was out of breath. "Good morning Daddy!
Good morning Chelsea!" Jenny grinned, taking a seat on the high chair next to her.
Jenny poured herself a bowl of cereal and asked sweetly, "Can you pass me the milk
please Daddy?" Sam passed her the carton, and he asked her, "So, Jenny? What are
your plans for today?" Jenny clicked her little tapered half-inch fingernails on the marble
counter and huffed, "Its Saturday, Daddy! You know Chelsea always gives me a mani-
pedi every Saturday!" Chelsea beamed and smiled, "After you finish your cereal why
dont you go get the stuff and we can do it out on the deck? Its so nice out."
"Awesome!" Jenny said. "Meantime, I sooo need a shower! I think Ill just use the one
in Genevieves room," Chelsea said, and she slid off her chair and went across the
kitchen and through the laundry room to Genevieves door and banged on it with both
fists. "Are you awake?" Chelsea screamed, continuing to bang on the door, and she
opened it and went in. "I am now," Genevieve moaned, sitting up in bed, her naked body
draped in her knee-length black hair. "Oh my God youre soooo sexy like that," Chelsea
panted, locking the door behind her and flinging her running clothes on the floor before
diving into Genevieves bed. "Chelsea you smell bad!" Genevieve complained. "You
taste good," Chelsea whispered as she slowly tongue-bathed Genevieve from head to toe,
while stroking her sensually with her long fingernails. Finally Chelsea sat up and pulled
Genevieve by her arm, leading her into the shower. "Theres something about us doing it
in the shower that totally drives me insane," Chelsea gasped, sliding her one inch-long nails
into Genevieves pussy and fondling her little bud, "Its been like that since the first day
we met. Remember?" "Yessssss, Chelsea," Genevieve said, feeling an orgasm wash
over her. Chelsea sucked on Genevieves delicate neck and scratched her longish red
toenails up Genevieves leg and whispered, "Remember how I took your virginity that
day? How you became mine forever?" "Yes, Chelsea," Genevieve sighed. Chelsea
guided Genevieves long, lovely dark-red fingernails to her pussy. "Youll always love
me wont you," Chelsea said. "I will," Genevieve said quietly.
CHAPTER 2…
Chelsea walked barefoot, dressed in just her extra-long tee shirt, out onto the large deck
overlooking the back yard, and sat down on a padded wooden lounge chair next to Jenny,
who was sitting in a white plastic chair. Jenny had already removed the red polish from
her own toenails, and Chelsea put her feet out so Jenny could take Chelseas polish off.
After they both soaked their feet for several minutes, Jenny sat at the foot of the lounge
chair and put her feet in Chelseas lap while Chelsea softly smoothed the edges of
Jennys toenails. Jenny held her feet in the air and spread her toes, watching the sunlight
shine through the tips which were just over the ends of her toes. Chelsea poured some
moisturizing oil into her hand and rubbed them together and then massaged it into
Jennys little feet. Jenny lay back and closed her eyes and sighed, enjoying the pleasant
sensation of Chelseas warm fingers gently kneading her feet, and the aroma of lavender
wafting from the oil. She took the oil from Chelsea and poured a little in her own hand
and began massaging Chelseas feet at the same time as Chelsea was doing hers. Jenny
stroked Chelseas feet with her half-inch long fingernails and Chelsea said how good it
felt. Chelsea stroked Jennys insteps with her fingernails and her soles with her
thumbnails, and Jenny smiled, "Isnt it amazing that neither one of us has ticklish feet!"
Chelsea smiled, "Yes and plus we both have awesomely hot toenails and fingernails and
we both like, totally always wanted to have them reaaalllly long!"
"Have you met any other kids in the neighborhood yet?" Chelsea asked as she applied
bright red polish to Jennys slightly-long toenails. "Not yet. I was waiting till after we
did our mani-pedis. I want everyone to see my nails at their awesomest," Jenny said.
Jenny swung her feet down and rested her heels on the deck, purple foam spreaders
between her toes, so her polish could dry. Chelsea put bright red polish on her own toes,
then she held her hands out for Jenny. Jenny put one hand in Chelseas, and Chelsea
inspected Jennys nails and then she carefully shaped them with an emery board, rubbed
oil into them, and buffed them to a shine. "Your fingernails are awesomely long and
strong," Chelsea remarked. "Plus Im very, very careful so I wont break one," Jenny
said, "Just like you." After Chelsea tended to her own fingernails, they both took turns
admiring their fingernails and toenails and telling each other how amazing and awesome
their nails looked. They heard a mans and a womans voice coming from the next
house, arguing. They heard the woman say, "Zack, please go outside and play!" followed
by a slamming door.
A little brown-haired boy came out and sat motionless on the swing in the next yard.
"Hi," Chelsea called to him. He looked up and waved, but said nothing. "Im Chelsea,
and this is Jenny. Were your new neighbors. Would you like a cookie?" Chelsea asked.
"Ill have to ask my mom first," he shouted, "But she and my dad are having a fight so I
cant right now." "Oh. Ok. Would you like to come over and like, just hang out?
Maybe play video games with Jenny? We have X-Box and Wii!" Chelsea asked.
"Cool!" Zack cried, and he slid off the swing and walked slowly to Chelseas deck and
up the stairs. "Youre really pretty," Zack said, seeing Chelsea up close, "How old are
you?" "Im gonna be 22 in July," Chelsea said, "How old are you?" "Im gonna be nine
in…," he started counting on his fingers, then said, "My birthdays in September." "Im
going to be nine in October," Jenny spoke up, "Chelsea and my daddy are getting married
next month and then Chelseas going to be my mommy." "Wheres your real mommy?"
Zack asked. "My first mommy died," Jenny insisted, "But Chelsea is going to be my real
mommy." Chelsea turned her head so Jenny wouldnt see the tears pouring down her
cheeks. "My mommy and daddy got divorced," Zack said matter-of-factly, "They said it
was because they were always fighting, but now they fight even more." "Why dont you
take Zack inside and play video games," Chelsea said to Jenny. "Ok," Jenny said
sweetly, reaching to take Zacks hand. Chelsea watched the expression on Zacks face
when he noticed how long Jennys fingernails were. It was shock at first, followed by a
mixture of fear and fascination. He didnt say anything, he just looked at her nails,
mesmerized. "Do you like my fingernails? Theyre realllly long!" Jenny said. Zack
turned beet red and all he could do was splutter. "Dont worry, I wont scratch you
hard…if youre nice to me," Jenny said sweetly, gently pressing her nails into the back of
Zacks hand, "…and you do whatever I say." Chelsea beamed as she watched a
trembling Zack follow Jenny into the house. Chelsea whispered to herself, "Awesome."
A few minutes later, a womans voice called out for Zack, and getting no response, she
came out into her yard. Chelsea hollered, "Hes over here…inside…playing video games
with our Jenny." "Oh, ok," the woman said, "He forgot his inhaler. Ill bring it over."
She came up the wooden steps onto the deck and introduced herself. "Im Deb," she
said. "Hi, Im Chelsea," Chelsea said, extending her hand. Deb accepted Chelseas hand
as most people did, with a bit of a double-take at the length of her fingernails and how
perfect they all were. Chelsea notice that Debs nails were natural, two were very short
as though theyd recently broken, but the rest were around a quarter-inch or more. Deb
had thick, black hair and piercing gray eyes. Sad eyes. Her face had a few
lines…Chelsea guessed she was in her late thirties or perhaps forty. "Is Zack your only
child?" Chelsea asked, trying to pin Debs age down. "Yes, my husband…ex-
husband…and I tried forever before Zack was born. I had a couple miscarriages," she
said. "So like, how old were you?" Chelsea asked without hesitation. "Thirty-seven,"
Deb answered. Chelsea was surprised, and she thought to herself that Deb looked good
for forty-six. Great in fact. Very attractive, even with no makeup. With a little makeup
and her hair done, she would be hot. And if she took better care of her nails and let them
all get really long… "Is Zack inside through there?" Deb asked, snapping Chelsea out of
her private thoughts. "Uh, yes…follow me," Chelsea said smiling. Deb followed
Chelsea into the house, remarking how lovely theyd decorated it. "The former owners
were decorating-challenged," Deb joked, and Chelsea laughed, "Well everything you see
here you can credit my Sam for, because Im decorating-challenged too." "How old is
Jenny?" Deb asked. "Shes eight," Chelsea answered. "Really? How old are you?" Deb
asked, "If you dont mind me asking." Chelsea giggled, "No, in fact Zack already asked
me. I think he has a crush on me. Ill be 22 in July." "Oh, so then…," Deb began.
"Jenny wont officially legally be my daughter until next month. Thats when Sam and I
are getting married and Im adopting Jenny," Chelsea said. "Thats so wonderful,
congratulations," Deb said, deciding it wasnt important to be nosy regarding the
whereabouts of Jennys birth mother.
Chelsea led Deb to the den, but instead of playing video games, they were watching
"Madagascar"on DVR, and Zack was lying on his stomach on some cushions, and Jenny
had her hands up under his shirt giving him a backscratch. Deb stopped in the doorway
and whispered to Chelsea, "Oh my gosh, thats so adorable! Zacks at that age where he
swears he hates girls. Jenny must be really sweet, or else cast some kind of a spell over
him." Chelsea smiled to herself. "Mommy brought your inhaler, Zack," Deb said. Zack
sat up suddenly, and tucked his shirt in, as if hed been caught doing something wrong.
"Its ok, Zack, Mommys leaving. You can stay here and enjoy getting your back
scra…," Deb stopped suddenly and brought her hand to her mouth. "Whats the matter?"
Chelsea asked. "Oh my gosh…Jennys fingernails…theyre longer than mine!" Deb
half-whispered to Chelsea, looking at her own nails. "But shorter than mine," Chelsea
said sweetly, modelling her ten perfect one inch-long unpolished fingernails. "Isnt that kind
of dangerous for an eight year-old?" Deb asked, "She could really hurt someone, or
herself." "Jenny is really careful," Chelsea assured her, "Would you like her to give you
a backscratch?" "Oh, no. Thats ok," Deb said. "Would you like me to give you one?"
Chelsea said sweetly, gently scratching Debs back through her thin blouse. "Ohhh that
feels wonderful," Deb drawled. "Why dont we leave the kids alone and go out on the
deck and have a glass of wine," Chelsea said. "Oh, maybe some other time," Deb said.
"Its ok, Im of legal age," Chelsea said sincerely. Deb stifled a laugh, and said, "Really,
my ex is over at my house and were having it out because hes two months late on
alimony and child support---as usual, he probably spent it on his new wife---and I should
really get back into the ring for the next round." "Let me handle him," Chelsea said.
"Huh? You? Oh, thanks but…," Deb began. Chelsea turned Deb to face her and took
her hands gently. "Im very good at convincing people of stuff," Chelsea said softly,
licking her lips and capturing Debs gaze with her sultry hazel eyes. "I….b-bet you are,"
Deb stammered. Chelsea could feel Debs pulse rate increase, and saw her pupils dilate.
"Trust me," Chelsea said almost in a whisper, and she planted a gentle, wet kiss on Debs
cheek. "Ok," Deb said meekly, swallowing hard. "Awesome. Lets go," Chelsea said
cheerfully, taking Debs hand and leading her out back, "Now, promise me no matter
what I say or do, youll play along." "Um…I guess," Deb said. "No, you cant guess.
Its very important. You have to play along no matter what. You can do it. I know you
can. I can tell how strong you are," Chelsea said. "Ok, I will," Deb said, taking a deep
breath and steadying her resolve.
"Hi, Im Chelsea, Debs new…um…friend," Chelsea said. "Richie," Debs balding,
slightly-paunchy ex-husband said. Chelsea put her purse on the coffee table and sat
down on the couch next to Richie, who was wearing a plaid shirt and cargo shorts, and
pulled Deb next to her. Chelsea sat with her back against Deb and stretched her feet out
against Richies leg. Feeling her warm, damp feet against his bare thigh, he looked
down, and Chelsea wiggled her toes. "Richie, huh. Thats cute," Chelsea said. "Well I
guess Ill be going," he said nervously, but Chelsea squeezed his leg with her toes and
said, "Dont go, we havent had a chance to chat." Richie laughed nervously. "So,
youve got a new wife, huh. You must feel like a total idiot for divorcing a hot chick like
Deb." Chelsea said. Richie started to say something but Chelsea interrupted him, "But
hey, your loss is my gain." He gave Chelsea a slightly puzzled look, and she smiled and
leaned her head back and stroked Debs face with her one inch-long fingernails and
whispered in her ear, "Remember, play along," and then she kissed her lips tenderly.
Then she looked at Richie and smiled. He was red-faced, and perspiration started
beading up on his forehead. Chelsea leaned back again. She grasped Debs face and
turned it so both their faces were in profile for Richie, and this time Chelsea gave Deb a
long, slow, closed-eyed, open-mouthed kiss, letting Richie see her tongue drive deep into
Debs mouth. "Im sorry, is this embarrassing you?" Chelsea asked Richie sweetly, as he
wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his hand, "Its just that whenever Im
around Deb I just cant seem to keep my hands off her." She turned back to Deb and
smiled and purred, "Hold me…will you, baby?" Deb put her arms around Chelsea and
Chelsea put Debs hand on her breasts and started her fondling them. "Mmmmmm,
thats it…just like that…oh God, I love it when you do that," Chelsea moaned softly.
She then said, "Aww, Deb, were being rude hosts. Our guest must be totally feeling left
out." Chelsea looked at Richie and gently scraped his thigh with her toenails and asked,
"Are you feeling left out, Richie?" "Uhhh…a little…I mean, I am feeling kinda weird,"
he blushed. "Bad weird or good weird?" Chelsea asked sweetly. "G-good w-weird…I
think," he said nervously. "You think?" Chelsea repeated, reaching her foot forward and
scratching his inner thigh with her longish red toenails. Richie gasped. "I always forget
how sharp my toenails are right after I do my pedicure. Im not scratching you too hard,
am I?" she asked. "N-no…not…," he stammered. "Be a sweetie and rub my feet?" she
asked sweetly, resting her foot on his hand and gently scratching it with her toenails.
Richie gulped and took Chelseas one foot in his hands and began massaging it. Chelsea
guided Debs hand down between her legs. Deb whined softly, but Chelsea pulled up
Debs blouse and began sucking her nipple, and Deb moaned. Richie looked over and his
eyes grew huge when he saw that Chelsea wasnt wearing panties, and both Chelseas
and his ex-wifes long-nailed fingers were busy fondling Chelseas glistening pussy.
"Take it out," Chelsea whispered to Richie, brushing her free foot across the large, hard
tent in his cargo shorts. Deb leaned and whispered almost silently into Chelseas ear, "I
cant do this." Chelsea engulfed Debs lips with hers and kissed her hard. "Five more
minutes, trust me," she whispered silently in Debs ear, encircling it with her hot, wet
tongue and plunging it inside. Deb moaned loudly. Chelsea urged Debs fingers deeper
into her pussy, and she began gently stroking her one inch-long nails up and down Debs arm,
moaning faster and louder. "Oh God Im gonna cum," Chelsea sighed, "Take your cock
out Richie. You want to, dont you?" "Oh Jesus yes!" Richie cried, fumbling with his
zipper, finally freeing his rock-hard dick. Instantly Chelsea had it between her feet, and
Richie groaned, "Oh Christ." "My feet are amazingly soft arent they Richie?" Chelsea
purred. "Ohhhh…Jesus…," Richie gasped, as Chelseas buttery-soft soles slid
effortlessly up his erect shaft. "My toes are incredible too, arent they Richie," Chelsea
said, as she grasped his cockhead securely and began squeezing and milking it. "Fucking
shit! Youre unbelievable," Richie cried. "I know," Chelsea smiled, as she stroked her
fingernails across Debs breasts and drove her tongue into Debs mouth again. "Richie?"
Chelsea said sweetly, scraping her sharp toenails lightly up and down his throbbing cock,
"Id really loooove to watch while you make love to Deb." She felt Debs heart start to
pound and she quickly shot her a wink, and Deb calmed down. "Would you like to have
sex with your ex?" Chelsea asked with a giggle, increasing the speed of her soft soles and
sharp toenails gliding gently up and down Richies shaft. "Yesss. Jesus Christ yesssss,"
Richie moaned. "Youre sorry you divorced her, arent you?" Chelsea asked softly.
"Yes. Sorry. So sorry," Richie panted, as Chelseas toes escalated his passion. "You
still love her, dont you?" Chelsea asked. "Tell her, Richie. Tell her how bad you want
her!" Chelsea commanded in a whisper. "Deb!" Richie screamed, "Oh God, Deb, I want
you. I need you. I…I love you!!!" Chelseas feet became a blur of motion and in a split
second Richie screamed, "oooohhhhhh fuuuucccckk…" and shot his load straight up in
the air like a fountain. "Awww," Chelsea said to Richie, giving Deb a soft kiss on her
lips, "Maybe next time, huh?"
Richie leaned back on the couch, heaving and panting breathlessly. Chelsea reached for
her purse. "I have some Kleenex…youre kinda messy," she giggled to Richie, whose
shirt front and shorts were splattered with his cum. "Oh my God!" Chelsea cried, pulling
her iPhone out, "I mustve accidentally pressed talk and all this time everything weve
been saying has been going into my BFFs voicemail! Its a good thing it wasnt set to
my boyfriends number, huh, Richie!" Richie chuckled, "Yeah." "Or your wifes,"
Chelsea said with an icy smile. Richie stopped laughing and the color drained from his
face. Chelsea continued, "My BFF is like, totally anal. She like, never deletes any of her
voicemails. In fact she downloads them to her laptop. Sometimes she even burns special
ones to CD." "What do you want?" Richie asked, shaking. "Me? I dont want anything,
Richie. But Deb like, really needs her back alimony and child support," Chelsea said,
"Now." Richie reached into his back pocket and pulled out his checkbook and started
writing Deb a check. "Oh, by the way Richie, guess what? It just went up $1000 a
month," Chelsea said, scratching the tip of her one inch-long fingernail on the amount line
on the blank check. He looked at her with rage-filled eyes. "Look at it this way, Richie:
its a lot cheaper than paying alimony to two wives," Chelsea observed. Richie signed
the check and handed it to Chelsea, who handed it to Deb. "And you wont ever be late
with another check, will you Richie," Chelsea said. "Is that it? Can I go now?" Richie
asked, hastily tucking his now-limp dick back into his cargo shorts, and wiping the wet
stains on his shirt with a Kleenex. "Is that a real gold Rolex?" Chelsea asked eagerly,
"Deb really wants a little nip-tuck…you know, now that shes dating again." Richie
sighed and held his arm out. "Be a sweetie and get the clasp for me?" Chelsea asked,
gently scratching his hand with her long fingernails, "We wouldnt want me to chip a
nail."
As soon as Richie skulked out, Chelsea put the gold Rolex in Debs hands and said, "You
know I wasnt serious about the nip-tuck. Youre body is like, totally smokin." Deb was
speechless. She put her arms around Chelsea and first she sobbed and then she laughed,
and finally she said, "Oh my gosh, that was the most incredible thing Ive ever seen. You
were incredible!" "You were pretty incredible yourself," Chelsea said softly. Deb
gushed, "I was sure I wasnt going to be able to go through with it, but you! Your
performance was worthy of an Oscar!" Chelsea licked her lips and gazed into Debs
eyes. "Theres just no way I can properly thank you," Deb said sincerely. "Oh there
sooo is," Chelsea purred, climbing onto Debs lap, tearing her blouse open, and sealing
their lips together in a dizzying kiss while she raked Debs back sensually with her long
fingernails. "Oh gosh! Chelsea…wait…," Deb whined. "Shhh," Chelsea whispered,
"Just do me like I do you…use your nails…itll be awesome. Trust me."
CHAPTER 3…
Chelsea walked back to her house and peeked into the den, but Jenny and Zack werent
there. "Jenny? Zack?" Chelsea called. "Up here," Jenny hollered. Chelsea went
upstairs to Jennys room, and Zack was lying on the floor on his back holding his shirt up
to his neck, with Jenny sitting crosslegged next to him, scratching his belly with all ten of
her very long fingernails. Chelsea looked around and the room, which was usually
littered with toys and papers, was neat and tidy. "Look Chelsea! Zack cleaned my
room…for a tummy scratch," Jenny said with a grin. Chelseas heart raced, and she
beamed at Jenny. "Hmm, would you scrub the kitchen floor if I promise to scratch your
tummy?" Chelsea giggled to Zack, wiggling her one inch-long nails over his face. "Sure!!"
he cried. "Im only kidding," Chelsea said, much to Zacks obvious disappointment,
"Anyway, your mom wants you home. You can come back any time though. Jennys
nails will always be there." Jenny smiled and nodded.
They heard the garage open and close, and Sam came in. Jenny bounded downstairs to
hug her dad and tell him all about her new friend, Zack. "Zacks eight like me but his
parents are divorced and we watched a movie," she said excitedly, omitting the part about
him cleaning her room, and the back-scratching and tummy-scratching. "Thats
wonderful, princess," Sam said, happy that Jenny was already making friends in the
neighborhood. Chelsea came downstairs and Sam related what Jenny had said. "Zacks
mom is cool. We had a nice visit," Chelsea said. "It sounds like youre making friends
too," Sam said. Chelsea smiled. Sam said, "Listen, I know itll probably be boring for
you, so feel free to decline, but were invited to a cocktail party tonight and…" Chelsea
smiled and took his hand, "Lets go upstairs and help me pick out something to wear."
"Like you need me to pick out your clothes," Sam laughed. "Ok, then how about…lets
go upstairs and have sex!" Chelsea said, rubbing her bare foot up and down the inside of
his leg as she traced circles on his chest with a long fingernail. "I love you so much,"
Sam said.
There was the faux-rock-grotto tub and shower in their huge master bathroom, and
Chelsea had insisted on mirrored walls and ceiling and thick, white fur carpet and a huge,
circular bed in their bedroom, so that she could have sex anywhere from wall to wall. It
was her lair, the perfect atmosphere for Chelseas sexuality. She even reveled in being
alone in that bedroom, with the mirrors everywhere allowing her to see and admire her
perfect body from all angles at once. Sexy clothing was a powerful tool of seduction for
Chelsea, like her nails, but she felt the most liberated and empowered when she was
completely nude.
So with their clothes in a pile on the floor, the moment the door closed Chelsea lept up
into Sams arms, with her long, strong legs wrapped around his waist, and her long
fingernails clutching his back as she suctioned her lips on his neck and bit him gently
with her perfect white teeth. Sam stumbled backward toward the bed, but the force of
Chelseas writhing body brought him down to his knees on the thick, white fur carpet.
He put his weight forward so as to get on top of Chelsea, but she whined into her frenzied
kiss and Sam knew to fall on his back. Chelsea rode him slowly, gyrating her hips in
circles as she rose up and down, until Sam felt her shudder and dig her nails into his
thighs. She opened her eyes and smiled the blissful smile she always did as her first
orgasm subsided, then her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared as they always did as her
desire began to rebuild. "Cmon," she panted, rising to her feet and taking his hand.
Chelsea ran into the bathroom and turned the water jets on in the grotto jacuzzi-tub,
which quickly filled with warm bubbling water, and she splashed in, pulling Sam in after
her. There they sat face-to-face, Chelseas legs wrapped around him, his hard cock deep
inside her pussy, her tongue deep inside his mouth, and her one inch-long natural fingernails
slowly raking his back harder and faster as her ardor increased until she climaxed again.
"Mmmmm, lets get a heated pool in the back yard, ok?" she purred softly as she rested
herself against Sams body, his hard cock still inside her. "Ok," Sam said, adding with a
snicker, "With a really high privacy fence." "If you think so," Chelsea shrugged.
Sam felt Chelseas pussy constrict around his still-hard cock, and she began gently biting
and sucking his earlobe, while she lightly scratched his nipples and pinched and pulled
them with her very long nails. "You need a shave," she whispered, scraping the side of
her one inch-long nail up his throat under his chin as a barber would use a straight razor. She
reached behind him for a can of shaving cream that was on the ledge, and gently lathered
his face, then she picked up his razor and shaved him slowly and carefully, tightening her
pussy on his cock just enough to keep him rock hard. Chelsea washed the last of the
lather off Sams face and nuzzled him with her cheek. "Mmmmmm, thats better," she
purred, tracing the tip of her tongue down his jawline, up to the corner of his mouth, and
across his lips, where she sighed deeply and opened her mouth and plunged her tongue
halfway down his throat, sucking and biting his lips while she orgasmed. "My God,
youre incredible," Sam gasped hoarsely. Chelsea clutched his face and neck with her
fingernails and sealed her mouth over his, and she submerged both of their faces under
the warm, frothing water while she thrust herself against him hard and steady until she
felt the spasms of his ejaculation subside, and then she let him up. As Sam was coughing
and gasping for air, Chelsea gushed, "See. We really need a pool. Underwater sex is way
hot."
"Are there like, gonna be single guys at the party?" Chelsea asked, toweling her long
brown hair. "I suppose," Sam asked, and added jokingly, "Why? Arent I enough to
satisfy you?" "Of course you are, lover," Chelsea smiled sweetly. "I was thinking about
Deb," Chelsea said. "Who?" Sam asked. "Deb…from next door? Zacks mom? She
really needs to put herself back out there," Chelsea said. "Well, I cant promise that her
Prince Charming will be there, but youre welcome to call her and tell her to put on her
glass slippers," Sam said. "Cool!" Chelsea said. Sam said laughing, "Ill be the only
computer geek there with a hot chick on each arm." "Ill be the hottest one," Chelsea
said quickly. "Oh crap!" Sam gasped, "I forgot to arrange for a sitter for Jenny. Damn, I
dont know who to call on this short notice." Chelsea picked up her iPhone and called
Genevieve: "Sam and I have to go to a cocktail party tonight and we dont have anybody
to sit with Jenny…So blow him off…Genevieve, just like, get home now, ok?...
Genevieve, do you really want to get me pissed at you?…Ok, thats better. See you in a
few." Chelsea turned to Sam and said, "Weve got a sitter." Then she called Deb: "Hi,
this is Chelsea…Yeah sure, we can talk about it…later…No, really, not now. Right now
just put on your sexiest cocktail outfit because were going to a party…Huh? No! Its
with my boyfriend, at one of his clients. Youre totally gonna get laid tonight…Ha ha,
very funny…Deb, Im like, totally serious. Get dressed and come over at eight
thirty…What? No problem, my BFF Genevieve is sitting Jenny, so Zack can come
here...pack his PJs so you dont have to wake him later. Anyway you probably wont be
sleeping at home tonight…Deb, calm down. Trust me…Thats more like it. Oh, polish
your toenails red, and put some clear on your fingernails…See you later. Bye."
"Chelsea and I are going out, and Aunt Genevieve is going to stay with you this
evening," Sam told Jenny. "I want to go with you!" Jenny whined, and tears started to
pour from her eyes. "Its just for grownups," Sam said. "I dont care!" Jenny wailed.
Sam rolled his eyes and began to get angry. Chelsea said softly, "Its Saturday and you
can stay up as late as you want." Sam looked at her disapprovingly and about to say
something, but Chelsea whispered, "You know she cant keep her eyes open past eleven."
Sam smiled. "Guess what else," Chelsea gushed. "W-what?" Jenny sniffled. "Were
going out with Zacks mom, so Zack is gonna spend the evening with you…in fact, hes
gonna sleep over!" Jennys eyes brightened and a huge smile spread across her face.
"Awesome! Can he sleep in my bed?" Jenny asked. "Well, if he wants," Chelsea said.
"Zack will do whatever I say," Jenny smiled. Sam took Chelsea aside and whispered,
"Are you nuts? Absolutely not! No way theyre sleeping in the same room let alone the
same bed!" Chelsea laughed, "Sam! Theyre like, eight! Chill out! God, you have such
a perverted imagination!" "You dont understand, shes my daughter," Sam exclaimed.
Chelsea was suddenly silent, and tears came in rivers. "Oh my God, I didnt mean it the
way it came out," Sam cried, "I know how much you love her. Really, I just meant,
fathers of girls…you know…" Chelsea nodded, and then burst into tears again. "Ok, Im
done. Im shutting up now. I promise," Sam said, taking Chelsea in his arms. She
winked at Jenny over Sams shoulder, and Jenny winked back.
Chelsea was dressed in a tight, short black low-cut backless cocktail dress. Her tanned,
oiled legs were bare and she wore high-heeled strappy sandals that showcased her
perfect, longish red toenails. She had clear-polished her one inch-long fingernails, and
applied clear gloss to her luscious, full lips, and she wore just a touch of smoky eye
shadow that accentuated her sultry hazel eyes. Genevieve came in the front door holding
a nice-looking young man by the hand. "Im home, Chelsea," she called, "I brought my
date…so put something on if youre not decent." "Im dressed, if thats what you mean,"
Chelsea said making a slow descent of the spiral staircase, and she laughed, "But Im not
sure about decent." "This is Brent," Genevieve said. "Hi, Im Chelsea," Chelsea said,
extending her clear-polished long-nailed hand to him. "H-hi, Im…uh…Im," he
stammered. "Pleased to meet me?" Chelsea asked with a smile. Brent blushed and
chuckled. Genevieve rolled her eyes. "Cmon, Ill feed you," she said, pushing him
toward the kitchen. "Check on the kids now and then during the evening, ok?" Chelsea
said, "I mean, while youre having sex dont forget youre supposed to be babysitting."
"Pot-kettle," Genevieve said, then seeing Chelseas perplexed look, sighed and said,
"Dont worry."
At eight-thirty the doorbell rang and Sam answered. "Im Deb, and this is Zack," she
said. "Im Sam. Come in, come in," he said, "Its so nice to meet you both. Jenny
certainly has taken a liking to your son." Jenny came downstairs and stood next to Sam,
staring at Zack. Zack stared at Jennys fingernails. She scratched them down the sleeve
of Sams tux, and Zack shivvered at the sound. "Bye Daddy, see you tomorrow!" Jenny
said, as she hugged Sam and, after catching Zacks eye, gave her dad a noisy kiss on the
cheek. "Lets play cocktail party," Jenny said sweetly, taking Zacks hand and leading
him upstairs. "They grow up fast," Deb observed. "Yeah…too fast for me," Sam
sighed. He led Deb into the foyer and offered her a seat. Sam said, "Can I get you
something? A drink?" "Oh, no thanks," Deb said politely. ""Chelsea should be back
down in a minute," he said. "So…you two are getting married soon?" Deb said, making
small-talk. "Yes, I cant believe it. I never thought I would fall in love again, at least,
not so soon after my wife died…and I definitely never imagined someone like Chelsea,"
he said, "She is incredible." "Thats definitely the word I would use to describe her,"
Deb said quietly. "Deb? Is that you? Im almost ready…come upstairs," Chelsea called.
"First door on the left," Sam said as Deb walked to the spiral staircase.
"My gosh!" Deb exclaimed when she entered the master bedroom, seeing herself
reflected in mirrors all around her, and even on the ceiling when she looked up. "Its
really something isnt it," Chelsea said. "Yes, it is," Deb said, trying not to sound
sarcastic. Chelsea came very close to Deb and said, "You have to come by sometime,
and Ill give you a private tour." Deb felt Chelseas warm breath on her cheek and
swallowed hard. "Chelsea, I…feel really strange being around Sam," she began. "Why?
Dont you like him?" Chelsea asked. "Its not that," Deb protested, "Hes very nice.
And oh my gosh hes gorgeous." "Well of course he is," Chelsea exclaimed, "You didnt
expect me to be with someone just average-looking, did you?" Deb sighed, "I meant,
after what happened between us this afternoon I feel really guilty." "Dont worry, after
we do it enough it wont bother you anymore," Chelsea said sincerely. "Youre thinking
about us doing it again?" Deb cried in astonishment. "And again and again and again,"
Chelsea smiled, then she turned serious and tears welled up in her eyes, "Oh my God,
arent you? Didnt you feel something special? Dont you want me?" "Youre
confusing me, Chelsea. Im so confused right now," Deb said. "Im sorry," Chelsea
said, "I didnt mean to come on so strong. Friends?" "Well…sure," Deb said. "Hug?"
Chelsea pleaded. Deb sighed and embraced Chelsea. She had her hands on Chelseas
bare back, and felt her warmth and softness, and the scent of her exotic, seductive floral
perfume. "Kiss?" Chelsea whispered, bringing her parted lips to Debs mouth and gently
slipping her hot tongue inside. It was a long, sweet, tender kiss, and Deb felt her knees
grow weak and her pussy tingle and get wet. "Are you still confused?" Chelsea
whispered, but before Deb could speak she kissed her again. "I know you love me,"
Chelsea whispered. "I…I…," Deb stammered, and then Chelseas lips were on hers
again. "Tell me you love me," Chelsea whispered, stroking Debs shoulders with her
long nails and leaving a trail of feather-soft kisses down her neck. "I love you," Deb
sighed quickly. "Awesome," Chelsea said softly, "Lets go, shall we?" Debs head was
spinning, and she felt a heaviness in her loins. "You need to cum really bad, dont you,"
Chelsea whispered. "Yes," Deb said. "Dont worry, well find someone at the party,"
Chelsea promised, "But first we have a little work to do." "Huh? Work?" Deb asked.
Chelsea smiled, "First of all, youve got to lose those frumpy closed shoes. Youre what,
an 8?" "Yes," Deb said. "Me too," Chelsea said, rummaging in her closet and returning
with a pair of high-heeled strappy sandals, "Here, try these on. But first, lets get those
old-lady nylons off you." Chelsea pushed Deb on the bed and pulled her hose off---and
her panties as well. "What are you doing?!" Deb cried. "Trust me," Chelsea giggled,
"The fresh air will do you good." "I cant go without panties!" Deb exclaimed. "Sure
you can…and you will," Chelsea smiled, ripping Debs panties into shreds, and lifting
her short cocktail dress to show Deb she wasnt wearing panties, "I dont even own a
pair." Chelsea got some oil and rubbed it on Debs legs. "Mmmmmm, doesnt that feel
awesome?" Chelsea asked as she massaged Debs thighs higher and higher, scratching
gently with her one inch-long natural fingernails. Deb inhaled sharply as Chelsea eased her
legs apart and brought her lips close enough to Debs pussy that she could feel Chelseas
warm breath tantalizing her sensitive bud as she said, "Oh my God, I dont want to ruin
my makeup otherwise Id definitely eat you. Next time, ok?" "Ohhhh, Chelsea!" Deb
panted, feeling even more heaviness in her groin, "Stop it! Im so horny I cant stand it."
"Well, now you know how it feels to be me," Chelsea giggled, helping Deb to her feet.
She slipped into the high-heeled sandals Chelsea had loaned her, and it took her a few
steps to steady her balance. "Im not used to such high heels," Deb said, "And why cant
I wear hose?" "Because I think your bare legs and feet are way hotter," Chelsea said,
"Now lets go get you laid."
CHAPTER 4…
Sams Range Rover pulled up on the circular drive in front of a huge mansion and a hired
valet in a white coat and gloves gave Sam a claim ticket while another valet helped
Chelsea and Deb out the other side. Sam crooked both elbows and both women giggled
and took his arms and they walked in together. The conversation level dropped suddenly,
and eyes were upon them. Deb and Sam looked around and smiled self-conciously, while
Chelsea stood tall and inhaled deeply, basking in the admiration of strangers and feeling
sexier and more aroused by the second. Her eyes combed the room like a tigress on the
hunt, sizing up both men and women, and ruling them in or out. A tall, good-looking
man perhaps in his early fifties, with graying temples and a neatly-trimmed white goatee
walked up and said, "Im Roland Fitzgerald, your host for the evening." Chelsea noted
that Rolands eyes widened when he saw how long her nails were, and she wiggled her
fingers ever so slightly. "Please help yourselves to the bar and hors doeuvres," Roland
said, and added, looking into Chelseas eyes, "And now if you all will excuse me, I regret
that I have to mingle with the other guests." As they walked into the crowd, Deb
whispered to Chelsea, "Oh my gosh, he was practically drooling on you." "Eww. Hes
like, old," Chelsea whispered back, "He probably needs pills to get it up." "I thought he
was very attractive," Deb said. "Major eww," Chelsea said.
"Oh my God, over there!" Chelsea whispered to Deb, "The really tall dark-haired guy
over in the corner. See? Sam, who is that guy? How old is he?" Chelsea asked, pointing
him out. "Thats Derek Andrews. Hes like, early forties. Hes a news anchor on TV,"
Sam said. "Hes perfect, Deb," Chelsea said. "Chelsea, hes got an ego the size of China
and a brain the size of a pea," Sam said. "As long as his dick size is somewhere in-
between, like I said, hes perfect," Chelsea said. "I dont know, Chelsea," Deb said.
Chelsea discreetly stroked a long nail down Debs arm and felt her shudder and heard her
whimper, "Stop!" "Im just reminding you how horny you are," Chelsea said. "Ok, what
do I do? I havent dated in almost twenty years and I never approached a guy, ever," Deb
said plaintively. "Leave it to me," Chelsea said. "Oh great, one look at you and he wont
even notice Im there," Deb said. "Well ordinarily yeah," Chelsea said with complete
disregard for Debs feelings, "But I dont want him, so trust me." Chelsea took Deb by
the arm and walked across to Derek Andrews and said, "Hi, Im Chelsea, and this is my
friend Deb." "Hi ladies," Derek said, "What can I do you for?" Chelsea winced and
thought to herself that Sams description of ego like China, brain like a pea was being
charitable." "Well," Chelsea continued shuffling her feet and batting her long eyelashes,
"Were a little drunk and we kinda made this stupid bet." She turned to Deb and giggled
like a schoolgirl, then she turned back to Derek, pretending to nibble shyly on one of her
one inch-long clear-polished fingernails. "Ok, like, we bet that whoever comes closest to
guessing how big your dick is, gets to go home with you," Chelsea said, "I say five and a
half inches, and Deb here says nine and three quarters inches. So…which one of us is
it?" Of course Derek would have crawled naked over broken glass to sleep with Chelsea
instead of Deb, but his giant ego prevented him from admitting to having a small penis.
"And the winner is…," Derek said, offering his arm to Deb, and as she walked away with
him, she peered back over her shoulder at Chelsea and mouthed thank you.
Chelsea rejoined Sam and spent some time on his arm. Sam took perverse delight in the
envious looks of the other men, and Chelsea delighted in the way they stared lustfully at
her sultry beauty, and in their astonished, fascinated and sometimes fearful looks and
hard swallows when they noticed her one inch-long fingernails. Eventually she grew bored
with smiling perfunctorily while Sam and the others talked computers, and she wandered
off on her own. There was a young man in a tux standing in a doorway and she said,
"Excuse me waiter, do you know where the little girls room is?" The young man
laughed and said, "Well, you sure dont look like a little girl…and Im not a waiter."
Chelsea gasped, "Oh my God! Im really sorry." "Its cool," he said, "Im Rory
Fitzgerald." "Hi, Im Chelsea," she said, brushing back her long brown hair with her
fingers. She saw him stare and she asked sweetly, "Do you like my nails?" "Theyre
really long," Rory said. "So is that a yes?" Chelsea asked with a sultry smile.
"Huh..oh…yes!" he blushed. "Are you related to Mr. Fitzgerald, the host?" Chelsea
asked. "Hes my dad," Rory said. "Do you like, work for him?" Chelsea asked. "Not
yet," he answered, "Im going into my senior year at Harvard business school." Chelsea
said, "So are you like, home for the summer?" "Yeah, doing an internship at Dads
company," he sighed. "Im gonna be a senior in the fall too, but like, I never went home
for a summer," Chelsea said. "This is the first summer Ive come home. Its kind of
bizarre, like being in a time-warp," Rory grinned, "My old bedroom looks exactly like it
did in high school." "Can I see it?" Chelsea asked in a soft voice, burning a smoldering
stare into his eyes and gently scratching the back of his hand with her long fingernails.
"We should probably lock the door," Chelsea said, "You wouldnt want your mom to
catch you with a girl in your room. She might like, ground you for a month or
something." Chelsea looked around at the pennants on the walls, and shelves with high-
school sports trophies. There was a lettermans jacked draped over the back of a chair,
and an autographed baseball in a little plastic cube on the desk. She put her hands on
Rorys shoulders and pressed him down into the chair. "Whatre you in the mood for?"
she asked softly, standing over him with her hands on his shoulders, placing her knee
between his legs and rubbing his crotch. Rory gulped. "W-whatever youre in the m-
mood for," he said hoarsely. "Good answer," Chelsea purred, taking his face in her
hands and leaning down and kissing his lips softly, then grasping his lower lip with her
teeth and tugging his mouth open and quickly driving her tongue inside. "Im in the
mood to bite," she whispered, closing her perfect, white teeth on his neck. "Oww!" he
exclaimed, startled by how hard she bit him. Chelsea ripped Rorys shirt open and placed
her hands against his smooth, muscular chest and said, "And scratch." And she clawed
her nails down his pecs hard enough to leave red welts. Rory cried out but Chelsea
sealed her lips over his mouth and drove her tongue halfway down his throat. Feverishly
making out, Chelsea forced Rory onto the little single bed. "Oww! Hey, not so hard!"
Rory cried, trying to undress himself with one hand while while fending off Chelseas
onslaught of teeth and nails with the other. "If you dont like it, just ask me to leave and I
will," Chelsea said. "N-no, d-dont go," Rory panted. "Ok," Chelsea said, and she
sucked and bit his neck and chest, leaving dark purple hickeys in her wake. "Oh God!"
Rory screamed as he felt Chelseas fiery hot pussy envelop his raging hard cock and
constrict like a python, pulling him up off the bed each time she rose on her knees.
"Youre incredible," he moaned as she relaxed her grip and leaned forward and kissed
him long and tenderly. "You have no idea how incredible I am," she whispered, slipping
her hands over his shoulders, digging her one inch-long nails into his back and pulling him
upright. Chelsea slid her foot down Rorys leg, scraping his shin hard with her big toe
nail, then she caressed his calf with her buttery-soft sole, and then she curled her toes and
dug her toenails in, scratching him firmly all the way up the back of his leg, and Rory
inhaled sharply and groaned. "Mmm, youve never had a girl scratch you with long, sexy,
red toenails before, have you," Chelsea said with a sexy laugh. Then she wrapped both
legs around him and squeezed him hard. "I c-cant b-b-breathe," he gasped, trying to pry
her legs apart. Chelsea let out a high pitched moan and exhaled hard, then she relaxed
her legs. "That was good for starters," she sighed, and she took his face in her hands and
deep-kissed him while she slowly rolled her hips, and he felt himself rapidly ascending
toward climax. "Oh God, Im gonna cum in a second," he croaked. "Nuh-uh," she said
sweetly, slipping her hands behind him. "Owww! Shit!" Rory screamed as she clawed
his back with her long natural fingernails. Chelsea laughed and pushed him flat down on
his back and quickly dug her nails in and raked his chest hard. "Jesus Christ!" Rory
cried, looking at the lines of red, raw scratch marks on his chest. "I just filed my nails
today. Thats why theyre extra sharp," Chelsea said matter-of-factly. She grabbed
Rorys wrists and forced his arms above his head, against the mattress, holding him down
with her full weight. She teased his lips with soft kisses and licks, and then she laughed
and buried her tongue deep inside his mouth while she tightened her pussy around his
rock-hard cock and slid up and down slowly, then gradually faster and faster. Suddenly
she stopped dead still and raised her head. "Tell me you love me," she said softly. Rory
looked at her dumbfounded and cried, "Oh my God, dont stop now!" "Tell me you love
me," she repeated firmly. "I-I love you. Oh shit, I love you, I so so love you," he cried.
Chelsea smiled triumphantly and sucked his tongue into her mouth. She held him down,
with her long thumbnails dug into his palms, as she rode him, wilder and wilder, until
they both came in a symphony of moans and screams. "That was awesome," Chelsea
gushed, hardly even winded. "Shit! Look what you did!" Rory gasped, panting for air,
gaping at the long raw welts that scored his chest and arms, and he could feel his back
burn from where shed scratched him there. Chelsea insisted, "Ive never done that to a
guy before, I swear." "Its ok," Rory panted, still euphoric from cumming. "No, its not!"
Chelsea exclaimed, "Oh my God! I couldve broken my nails!" Chelsea got up and
slipped into her dress and shoes and smoothed her touseled hair, and touched up her
makeup in her little compact mirror. "Hey! Wait! When can I see you again?" he asked,
"Tonight was the most incredible sex Ive ever had in my life." "Tonight was the most
incredible sex youll ever have, for the rest of your life, Rory. Doing it again would ruin
it," Chelsea whispered, blowing him a kiss as she left.
In the hallway, Chelsea saw a girl with long red hair entering one of the bedrooms, and
they momentarily locked eyes. "Hi, Im Chelsea," she said, smiling. The girl stopped
and turned and said, "Im Heather. Fitzgerald." "Rorys sister?" Chelsea asked.
"Yes…do you know my brother?" Heather asked. "You have awesome hair," Chelsea
said, stroking her long red tresses. "Its not my natural color," Heather confessed, and
she waved her french-manicured fingers and said, "And these are not my natural nails,"
and she cupped her hands underneath her breasts and gave them a little squeeze and
bounce and giggled, "And these were a sweet-sixteen birthday gift from my folks."
"Mine are real," Chelsea said, cupping her breasts as Heather had, "The nails too." "Oh
wow, your nails are to die for!" Heather gushed, "Im just too lazy to grow my own."
"How old are you?" Chelsea asked. "Seventeen," Heather answered. Chelsea said a
silent shit! to herself. "Well, at least I am for another fourteen minutes," Heather
laughed, looking at her diamond-studded Rolex. Chelsea smiled. "My friends are
picking me up at around one and were going clubbing," Heather said, "Would you like
to come?" "Id love to come," Chelsea said, licking her lips at the double-entendre, but
modelling her huge diamond ring she added, "I cant. My fiance is downstairs at that
boring party." "Youre engaged?" Heather asked with intrigue, "How old are you?"
"Twenty one," Chelsea answered. "Oh my God, I so hope Im engaged by twenty one,"
Heather said. "Why the hurry?" Chelsea asked. "Well, I made this pact when I was
sixteen, to stay a virgin until…," Heather began. "Are you kidding?" Chelsea laughed,
"Youre not gonna have sex until your wedding night?" Heather said quietly, "Well,
technically the pact just says Im saving myself for the one great love of my life." "Do
you have any weed?" Chelsea said, changing the subject, "Im like, so bored and Id
really like to get high." Heather flashed a knowing smile and took Chelseas arm and
pulled her into her bedroom and locked the door. "Actually I was going to torch one
before I went out," Heather said, reaching a little box down from the back of the top shelf
in her closet.
Heather cracked open the window and lit a joint and took a couple of quick hits and
passed it to Chelsea, who grasped it gingerly with her long fingernails. Heather watched
with amazement as Chelsea took a long, slow drag and inhaled deeply, as one would an
ordinary cigarette. Chelsea motioned Heather to her, and she held the joint in her nails
while Heather took another couple of fast hits, then Chelsea took another long drag that
consumed the rest of the joint. "Oh my God," Heather exclaimed, giggling, "Are you
like, a major stoner or something?" "Ive been smoking every day since I was like, ten,"
Chelsea said matter-of-factly, "So it like, takes quite a bit for me to feel it." Heather
looked at her watch and said, "Oh wow, its two minutes after midnight. Im officially
eighteen." Chelsea playfully scratched her nails on Heathers thigh, and she spread her
arms and smiled, "Can I be the first to give you a hug?" "Sure, ok," Heather giggled, and
they embraced. "Mmmm, what is that perfume?" Chelsea asked, "I dont recognize it."
"Its something my dad picked up for me from some little boutique in Paris," she replied,
"Really, do you like it? I think its kinda sweet." "I think its pefect on you," Chelsea
smiled warmly, and she kissed Heathers cheek tenderly and whispered, "Youre kinda
sweet." Heather sighed, "Id rather be drop-dead gorgeous hot like you." "You are hot,"
Chelsea said softly, stroking her back lightly with the tips of her one inch-long fingernails as
she held her tighter, feeling Heathers breathing and heart beat getting slightly faster and
her skin becoming slightly damp. Heather realized the two of them had been embracing a
little too long, and she gently pulled herself free. She looked at her diamond-studded
Rolex nervously. "Its only twelve twenty," Chelsea said, opening her little evening
purse, "Relax. Your friends wont be here for a while." Chelsea pulled out a small silver
flask and unscrewed the top and took a sip, then she put her arm around Heathers back
and tipped the flask to her lips. "Oh…I shouldnt. Were no doubt gonna be drinking a
lot at the clubs," Heather said, gently grasping Chelseas hand. "Just one drink with
me?" Chelsea pleaded. Heather sighed and nodded, and Chelsea smiled and held
Heathers head back and poured the contents of the flask into her mouth. Heathers eyes
were like saucers and she gasped for air. "What was that stuff?" Heather coughed. "160
proof grain alcohol," Chelsea giggled, "Not much taste, but it gets the job done quick."
"Show me your boobs," Chelsea said, "I never saw a really good boob-job before."
"Ok," Heather giggled, sticking her chest out. Chelsea smiled and put her hands up under
Heathers top, and then slipped her fingers under her bra. "Wait, what are you doing?"
she asked with surprise. "As if I can see them through your clothes!" Chelsea exclaimed,
deftly slipping Heathers top up over her head and off, and then quickly removing her
bra. "Wow, they really did a great job. They look amazingly real, and they feel real,
too," Chelsea said, feeling Heathers breasts, at first in a very clinical manner, but
gradually began fondling her. Heather gently grasped Chelseas hand and said nervously,
"Um…I think I should put my clothes back on now." "Aww, you really are sweet,"
Chelsea laughed softly. Heather pouted. "Oh, Im sorry," Chelsea said, "I didnt mean
to make fun of you." "Yes you did," Heather sighed, "You think Im silly because Im
saving myself for the one great love of my life. All my friends think its totally lame." "I
think its very romantic and sexy," Chelsea said. "Sexy?!" Heather said with amusement.
Chelsea nodded, tracing a long nail around Heathers areola, "Yes. Very sexy." Heather
swept Chelseas hand aside and tried to step around her, but being stoned and drunk she
stumbled. Chelsea caught Heather in her arms and while she was off balance, Chelsea
leaned down and sucked Heathers nipple into her mouth. "Stop…what are you doing?"
Heather gasped. "Sucking your tit," Chelsea smiled, "And now Im going to suck the
other one. Ok?" And she instantly enveloped Heathers other nipple with her mouth and
pulled it gently with her teeth as she sucked noisily. "Ok," Heather panted breathlessly,
her head spinning from the combination of dope and liquor and the pleasureable
sensation of Chelseas lips and teeth on her sensitive nipple, "But thats all. Promise?"
"I promise," Chelsea said, laying Heather gently down on her bed, kissing and sucking
her slowly from her breasts to her shoulders and along her collarbone to her neck, and up
to her ears, and down her jawline, and under her chin, licking her throat, planting feather-
soft kisses all around her mouth. Heathers breathing was ragged and shallow, and
Chelsea could feel Heathers heart racing. "B-but y-you p-promised…," Heather panted,
her breath coming in deep gasps. "I meant it when I promised, thats what counts,"
Chelsea said, and she parted Heathers lips with a tender, wet lick, and drowned her in a
long, hot, honey-sweet kiss.
It was as if Heather was watching powerlessly from outside herself as Chelseas long
fingernails glided over her body, easily peeling off the rest of her clothing. She watched
Chelsea rise up and shed her little cocktail dress in one move and lean forward. Heather
felt Chelseas warm breasts against hers at the same time as she felt Chelseas lips touch
her lips, and a force beyond her ability to resist compelled her to open her mouth again
and receive Chelseas hot, probing tongue. Chelsea gently raked her long, natural
fingernails down Heathers shoulders and arms, and she kissed and sucked slowly down
Heathers breasts and stomach to her little tuft of snatch. Chelsea rubbed her chin into
Heathers little mound, and Heather whimpered a weak, "Please stop." Chelsea left
feather-soft kisses along the crease between Heathers legs and her mound, gently
stroking her thighs with her long fingernails. Heather held her legs together with all her
strength, trembling from the effort. Chelsea laughed quietly, "Youre so cute," and then
she clutched Heathers legs with her sharp fingernails and easily spread them wide apart
and swirled her tongue around Heathers hot, wet little pussy, nibbling her sensitive little
bud with her teeth. Heather was panting, "Oh…God…oh…God…," in little high-pitched
squeals, until finally she moaned and screamed, "Ohhhhh Gggodddddd!!" as wave after
orgasmic wave swept over her shuddering, convulsing little body.
Chelsea slid forward on top of Heather like a shot, coming to rest with her hot, dripping
pussy on Heathers mouth, squeezing her head between her thighs. "Eat me!" she
gasped. Heather grabbed Chelseas thighs and tried to pull them apart with all her
strength, to no apparent effect at all. She dug her nails into Chelseas thighs but Chelsea
just laughed and grabbed Heathers wrists and brought her hands up and kissed and
sucked her fingers and laughed, "Fake nails arent sharp like real ones" as she reached
under Heather and dug her nails into Heathers back and Heather cried, "Oww!" Chelsea
said very sweetly, "I so do need to cum, so Im gonna ask you really nice once more:
Please eat me." Chelsea felt Heathers tongue timidly probe around her pussy lips, and
she shivvered and panted, "Oh God! Thats it! Tease me!" and she ground herself against
Heathers face. Chelsea responded to Heathers muffled cries of protest by digging her
toenails into Heathers sides and panting, "Deeper! Put your tongue in deeper! Oh God!
Use your teeth on my clit. Do me like I did you!" Soon Chelsea was moaning loud, and
she brought Heathers hands up to her breasts and set her fondling her huge, hard nipples,
as she stroked her long fingernails up and down Heathers arms. Chelsea threw back her
head and moaned, "Yes…yesss….yessssss!!" as she felt her orgasm build and course
through her body. When Chelsea dismounted, Heathers face and hair were soaked with
Chelseas juices. "Yuck! Gross! Oh my God, I think Im gonna be sick!" Heather cried,
turning her head from side to side, coughing and spitting. "Everyone like, totally says I
taste amazing," Chelsea said with surprise, then she said, "Oh, I bet you got some of your
brothers jizz." Heather screamed and started sobbing. Chelsea wiped Heathers face
with the sheet and held her and rocked her and whispered soothingly, "Shhh. Its ok.
Shhh." Heather stopped sobbing and calmed down. Chelsea rolled on top of Heather
and began giving her tender, slow kisses, and caressing her body with her long, sexy
fingernails. Heather felt like she was drowning in Chelseas kisses, and her nails were
sending shock waves of electricity through her body. She felt Chelsea caress her slowly
down the front of her body to her mound, and then roll her clit between thumbnail and
fingernails. Although Heather felt herself barreling uncontrollably toward orgasm, she
managed to gasp a terrified, "Oh my God…please b-be c-c-careful! Your nails…so l-
long and sh-sharp…remember my p-pact…s-saving myself f-for the one great love of my
life." "But that would be me," Chelsea said sweetly, as she slid two long fingers with
straight, one inch-long nails deep into Heathers pussy, muffling her sharp cry with a dizzying
kiss, and then bringing her to one explosive orgasm after another until Heathers sweat-
drenched body was exhausted and drained of all energy. Chelsea leaned over and gave
her a long kiss and said earnestly, "Youll love me forever…you know, because I was
your first. But like, its totally ok to have sex with anyone, anytime you want from now
on." Chelsea slithered back into her cocktail dress and shoes. At the door she turned and
said, "Oh my God, I like, almost forgot to wish you Happy Birthday!" "Will you call
me? Please?" Heather pleaded breathlessly. "I totally promise," Chelsea said sincerely.
"Wait! You dont have my number!" Heather cried as Chelsea shut the door behind her.
"Im sorry Chelsea, I know you mustve been bored out of your mind," Sam apologized
as the valet brought the Range Rover up. "Im never bored when Im with you," she said,
casting him a sexy look with her sultry hazel eyes. In the car, Chelsea slipped out of her
high heeled strappy sandals and put her feet up on the dash. The heat and damp from her
feet fogged the windshield, and Chelsea used her big toe to write Im horny in the
condensation. Sam chuckled, "Our new bed is sure getting a workout today." "No, I
meant, Im horny, like, now. Pull over and lets get in the back," Chelsea said. "I dont
suppose I have a choice, do I," Sam grinned. "None," Chelsea said seriously, licking her
lips and starting to breathe heavily. Sam pulled into a dark parking lot and reached
behind him and dropped the back seats flush with the cargo floor as Chelsea slipped
through between the front seats, grabbing for Sam as he made his way to join her,
writhing out of his jacket as Chelsea clawed his shirt and pants off him. "Shit," she said,
bumping her head on the roof as she mounted his hard cock, "We totally need to get a
van." Then she leaned forward against him and kissed him hotly while she gently
scratched his neck and shoulders with her incredible one inch-long fingernails, and rocked
and ground her hips urgently. The next thing Sam knew, Chelsea was gently waking him
up, back home in their garage. "Did you have a nice little nap, lover?" she asked sweetly.
"Uh huh," Sam groaned, still groggy and disoriented, sitting in the open tailgate putting
on his boxers and pants and gathering up his jacket and shirt. "I want to check on the
children, then Ill come to bed, ok?" she said. Sam yawned, "You wont mind if I just go
to sleep." Chelsea smiled, "And you wont mind if I wake you up."
Sam and Chelsea went upstairs and and tiptoed down the hall to peek into Jennys room.
Jenny and Zack were sleeping in Jennys bed, with a row of Jennys stuffed animals
between them like a privacy fence. "See, you have nothing to worry about with Jenny,"
Chelsea whispered to Sam, "Shell never let some guy take advantage of her. Admit it,
Im a good influence." "Ok, ok, I admit," Sam whispered, and Chelsea gave his cheek a
playful scratch with her fingernails. Sam turned and shuffled toward their bedroom. As
Chelsea quietly closed Jennys door she heard a light scraping sound and glanced back
into the room, and Jenny had her arm draped over the stuffed-animal wall and was gently
scratching Zacks back through his pajamas with her very long fingernails. "Goodnight
Chelsea," Jenny whispered. "Goodnight sweetie," Chelsea whispered back.
Chelsea went to her bedroom and saw that Sam was sound asleep. Not feeling a stirring
in her loins, she decided to go downstairs and watch adult TV. It always gave her a good
laugh to see how amateurish and un-sexy those so-called professional porno actors were,
especially the women with their dyed hair, silicone boobs, and ugly fake nails. She got
herself a beer from the refrigerator and started for the den, but she heard faint sounds
from Genevieves room and she presumed Genevieve and her date were having sex, and
that did give her loins a stir. Without knocking, Chelsea opened the door and barged in,
crawled into bed and sat against the headboard drinking her beer from the bottle. "I like,
really need to talk to Genevieve…So like, hurry up, ok, Brad," Chelsea said impatiently.
"Its Brent," he said, rolling off of a very annoyed Genevieve who had been on the verge
of cumming. "Huh?" Chelsea said. "My name. Its Brent. You called me Brad," he
said. "Whatever," Chelsea said, "Finish her off, ok? Cause I really need to talk to her."
"Oh my God, Chelsea, I was almost there!" Genevieve cried. "Im sorry, lover," Chelsea
apologized. "Lover?" Brent repeated with surprise. "Oops," Chelsea said, running her
nails through Genevieves knee-length black hair, "My bad." Genevieve held her head in
her hands. "Oh my God Im getting such a headache," she whined. "See what you did,
Brad?" Chelsea scolded. "Brent. My name is Brent," he snapped. "What…Ever,"
Chelsea sighed, rolling her eyes. And she put her arm around Genevieve and gave her a
head-spinning kiss and slid her fingers into Genevieves pussy and used her long nails to
bring her quickly to a crashing orgasm. "Is that better, lover?" Chelsea asked in a
concerned voice, holding Genevieve in her arms while she tried to catch her breath.
"That was hot!" Brent said, "Are you guys into threeways by any chance?" "We so are!
But only with guys Im attracted to," Chelsea said, "So, um…sorry, Brad." "Uh,
Genevieve, I think Ill head back to my dorm after all. Ill, um, call you," Brent said,
slipping out of bed quickly, and hastily getting dressed and departing. Genevieve cried,
"Oh my God Chelsea, youre unbelievable. One way or another you manage to mess up
all my relationships." "Thats like, so not true!" Chelsea exclaimed indignantly, then she
hugged Genevieve very tightly and whispered, "Of course, the only relationship that
matters is you and me."
"What was it you had to tell me that was so important you had to interrupt me having sex
and blow off my date?" Genevieve asked curtly. "Oh my God, youre being such a
bitch!" Chelsea said, tears starting to flow from her warm hazel eyes. "Im sorry,"
Genevieve said meekly, "Really, what is it you need to talk about?" "Nothing. I just felt
like talking," Chelsea smiled seductively, "But now I feel like doing something...else."
She rolled on top of Genevieve and began kissing her neck and stroking her breasts with
her one inch-long nails. An hour later Chelsea calmly rolled off of a thoroughly exhausted
Genevieve and finished her beer. "I know that everybody loves me," Chelsea
proclaimed, admiring her ten perfect one inch-long fingernails, "But youre the only one who
really gets me." "Lucky me," Genevieve said dryly. "Totally!" Chelsea sighed,
oblivious to Genevieves sarcasm, and cuddled her tightly.
CHAPTER 5…
When Sam opened his eyes Sunday morning and looked at the clock, it was 9AM. He
glanced down and saw that he had morning wood and quickly looked over at Chelsea,
relieved that she was sound asleep with her back to him, because he really needed to piss.
He slipped out of bed as carefully and quietly as he could, but instantly Chelseas arms
were around him from behind, dragging her one inch-long clear fingernails down his chest,
her hot, soft lips pressed against his neck. "I really need to pee," he said. Chelsea
stroked his face with her nails and turned his head to her, and in a split-second her tongue
was deep inside his mouth. As she pulled him backwards into bed, she wrapped a long,
toned leg around him and scratched her toenails up his inner thigh, then fondled his balls
with her toes. As Sams back hit the mattress, Chelsea was on top of him, his cock deep
inside her. "Still feel like you have to pee?" she whispered, clamping her mouth over his
before he could speak. After an hour of vigorous sex, Chelsea rolled over and fell back
to sleep, and Sam took a quick shower and went downstairs.
Jenny and Zack were sitting at the kitchen counter in their pajamas, eating cereal and
drinking orange juice. Genevieve was holding a cup of coffee in both hands, tapping her
long, slender dark-red fingernails against the coffee mug while inhaling the aroma and
sipping slowly, hoping the caffiene would soon mitigate her exhaustion. "I made Zack
and me breakfast, Daddy!" Jenny said to Sam with obvious self-satisfaction. Sam said,
"Youre a lucky guy, Zack." Jenny giggled, and that made Zack giggle, and cereal fell
out of his mouth and stuck to his chin. Jenny sweetly plucked each fallen piece daintily
with her long, tapered fingernails, watching Zacks expression intently as he felt her
sharp nails touch his face and went cross-eyed trying to focus on them. Then she fed the
cereal bits to him one at a time, carefully avoiding touching his lips with her nails,
watching the deep disappointment in his eyes. "Youre a great hostess, Jenny," Sam said
with a smile. "Cmon Zack," Jenny said sweetly, taking Zacks hand, "Well play
upstairs until your mom comes." Sam watched Jenny reach behind Zack and
affectionately scratch his back as they walked to the stairway. He remarked to Genevieve
how remarkably attentive and compassionate Jenny was for an eight year-old, and how
she had blossomed so much since Chelsea had come into her life. Genevieve blinked and
sighed. "I see how everybody looks at Chelsea…at how sexy and beautiful she is on the
outside," Sam said, "But sometimes I wonder if anyone even suspects how much more
there is to her." Genevieve swallowed a gulp of coffee quickly and coughed. Sam put
his hand on Genevieves arm and said, "Oh, I didnt mean you, Genevieve. Youre her
BFF. You obviously know the real Chelsea…what shes capable of bringing to peoples
lives." Genevieve looked into Sams misty, lovestruck eyes, and she forced an uneasy
smile and said, "Absolutely."
The doorbell rang, and Sam answered. Deb was dressed in a tee-shirt and jogging shorts
and flipflops. "Hi, I figured Id come get Zack. You folks probably have had enough of
him by now," she laughed. "Hes a great kid, and we all like him," Sam laughed, "In fact
you might have to fight Jenny to get Zack back." "Im glad to see Zack take to Jenny,"
Deb said, "Because I sort of think he blames me for driving his father away, and its good
to see that hes capable of having a normal friendship with a girl. I mean, its nice to
know he isnt going to have issues with women later on." "Come in and have a cup of
coffee," Sam said, ushering Deb into the foyer. "Is Chelsea up?" Deb asked. "I dont
think so," Sam said, "Why dont you have a cup of coffee?" "Oh, thanks, but Ive
already had three. It was a late night," Deb said. "So…Derek Andrews?" Sam said. Deb
looked at him coyly and batted her eyes. "For girls ears only?" Sam said. Deb smiled
and nodded. Sam said, "Just go on upstairs. I know Chelsea wont mind waking up to
hear about your night."
Deb went up the spiral staircase and timidly opened the master bedroom door and peeked
in. "Chelsea?" she whispered. Chelsea rolled on her back and stretched languidly and
smiled and purred, "Hi there," and she sat up and patted the place next to her for Deb to
come and sit. Deb closed the door behind her and ran to the bed and bounced in next to
Chelsea. "Oh my gosh, can you believe I spent the night with Derek Andrews the TV
newscaster?" Deb gushed. "How was he?" Chelsea asked. "He was really good," Deb
whispered, then she added out loud, "But Im sure if you asked him, hed say he was
stupendous." Deb giggled. "Youd say that I was stupendous, wouldnt you," Chelsea
said, putting her hand on Debs bare thigh, stroking her lightly with her nails, brushing
Debs hair back with her other hand, and leaning toward her with parted lips. "Chelsea!
What if Sam comes upstairs?!" Deb cried in a whisper. "Ohhhhhh, Deb! Oh my God,
like, that got me sooooo hot," Chelsea purred, and she sealed her lips over Debs and
thrust her tongue halfway down her throat, slipping her hand under Debs tee shirt and
fondling her nipples with her long fingernails. Chelsea took Debs hand and ushered her
fingers to her mound. "Do me with your nails," Chelsea whispered. Deb protested,
"Chelsea, I…I cant. Not here. Not now. Sam…" "Ok," Chelsea sighed, and she
bounced off the bed grabbing Deb by the arm and pulling her to her feet, "Cmon, keep
me company and talk to me while I take a shower." "Uh…alright," Deb agreed.
"Ohhh, this bathroom is to die for!" Deb exclaimed, gazing at the rock-grotto jacuzzi and
shower. Deb also got a look at Chelseas nude body in the light and gasped. "You like?"
Chelsea asked, posing herself seductively. Deb stared in awe, "Im so jealous. I never
had a body like that even when I was your age, and now…" "You so have a smokin
body," Chelsea said, caressing her hands along Debs hips, hooking her long thumbnails
into the elastic of her jogging shorts and pulling down. Deb gently took her wrists.
"Please, Chelsea," Deb protested kindly. Chelsea started the water jets in the jacuzzi and
stepped into the warm, frothy tub and beckoned to Deb with open arms. Deb shook her
head. Chelsea burned a stare into Debs eyes and pointed her one inch-long fingernail toward
the door. "Lock it," she said softly but firmly. Deb complied. "Get undressed," Chelsea
said in the same soft but commanding voice, and added, "Slowly." Chelsea folded her
arms on the ledge of the rock-grotto tub and rested her chin on her hands as she watched
Deb slowly disrobe. Chelsea stared with increasing lust, licking her lips, as Deb at last
removed her bra and panties. "The water is amazing," Chelsea said sweetly, holding out
her hand to help Deb into the jacuzzi. As Deb stepped her legs over the ledge and sat
down, feeling the warm, churning water excite her pussy, Chelsea embraced her and
smothered her with a long, passionate kiss, raking her back gently with her nails. "Arent
my nails incredible?" Chelsea whispered, kissing Debs neck. "Mmm hmm," Deb
agreed, overcome by Chelseas sensual touch. "Scratch me with yours," Chelsea
whispered, wrapping her long legs around Debs waist and grinding her mound against
Debs hip.
After an hour of pleasuring each other in the jacuzzi, Chelsea stood up and led Deb over
to the shower, where multiple pulsating jets of warm water stimulated and massaged their
naked bodies. Chelsea backed Deb against the shower and held her arms above her head
against the smooth rock wall and kissed her long and hard, while she rubbed her hard
nipples against Debs and slowly caressed Debs leg with her longish red-polished
toenails. Holding Deb up against the shower wall as her kisses made Debs knees buckle,
Chelsea guided Debs left hand around her back, and her right hand between her legs, and
she did the same to Deb, and they used their long fingernails to bring each other to a
final, explosive orgasm. Deb sat on the rug on the floor, leaning against the wall,
exhausted, while Chelsea casually towelled herself dry. She peeked out into the bedroom
and looked back at Deb and giggled, "The coast is clear." Deb slowly got up off the floor
and put her clothes back on, and used Chelseas blow dryer to dry her hair. She plodded
out into the bedroom and flopped down on the bed on her back. Chelsea kneeled next to
her, combing her long-nailed fingers through her damp hair. "You never answered me,"
Chelsea said. Deb looked at her puzzled. Chelsea smiled, "About sex with me. I asked
you if you would say Im stupendous." Deb laughed and smiled. "Say it," Chelsea said
with an icy look. Deb shivvered. "Y-youre stupendous," she said quickly, "Really
stupendous." Chelsea burst into a warm smile and leaned down and smothered Deb with
another head-spinning kiss. Chelsea sat up suddenly, clapped her hands in excitement
and exclaimed, "Oh my God, Im getting married in like, a month! Is that not like,
bizarre!?" "Bizarre," Deb agreed. "You totally have to be my bridesmaid," Chelsea said.
"Oh, Chelsea, thanks…I mean, Im flattered…but…," Deb squirmed uncomfortably.
Chelsea placed her one inch-long fingernails against Debs lips, and whispered, "You know I
never take no for an answer. So…nod if that was a yes" With Chelseas nails still
against her lips, Deb nodded. Chelsea let her nails trail gently down Debs chin and she
leaned down and kissed Deb hard. "Awesome," Chelsea sighed.
CHAPTER 6…
The month of May flew by. Sam thought the cost of installing an in-ground pool with a
high privacy fence, was staggering when he considered it would only be usable a few
months out of the year, so he had it attached to the house, enclosed in a glass atrium with
solar heating panels. The glass walls could be slid open in the summer, and there were
privacy blinds all around that operated electrically. Except for the solar panels, the roof
glass was the kind that darkened by itself in the daytime to screen out the heat and UV,
but at night allowed a clear view of the stars. It made Sams heart skip a beat the first
night the pool was open, to watch Chelsea shed her clothing and dive in. She felt so
much more comfortable, so liberated, when she was nude, and she loved the feeling of
being in the water. Chelsea swam to the side and beckoned for Sam to join her, and by
the time he splashed in, she was wild with desire and pulled him against her with her
back to the side of the pool, and he felt all her nails and teeth on him at once, followed
quickly by her hot pussy slipping over his cock and constricting like a python. "Tell me
you love me," Sam imitated her with a grin. "Shut up!" she giggled, engulfing his mouth
with her sweet lips, her driving, warm-honey kiss scattering his thoughts like ashes in the
wind. Chelsea skyrocketed to one blissful orgasm after another, her ardor increasing
with each one. She was so consumed with taking her own pleasure that she didnt feel
Sam cumming in time to stop him. Satisfied and euphoric after sex, Sam suggested,
"Why dont we lay out on the lounges and enjoy the stars…maybe have some
champagne? Im spent!" "Im not," Chelsea said, staring into Sams eyes, "Were so not
done here." She began kissing him softly, darting her tongue in and out of his mouth,
biting and sucking his lips and raking his face and neck lightly with her one inch-long clear,
natural fingernails. Almost instantly Sam felt himself getting hard again. "Welcome
back to the party, lover," she purred softly. Chelsea swam out, turning around frequently,
pulling Sam with her, teasing his cock with her toes, kissing him, diving under and raking
his legs with her fingernails. Finally, in the middle of the deep end, Chelsea wrapped her
arms and legs around Sam and drove her hot, tight pussy onto his cock, rolling her hips in
slow circles, kissing and biting and sucking his neck, moaning with pleasure and digging
her long fingernails into his ass and raking them up his back and down his shoulders and
arms. Sam had to keep his legs and arms moving for them both to stay afloat, which
Chelsea knew would distract him enough that she could enjoy herself without worrying
about him cumming until she was fully satisfied---no matter how long that might be.
Sam watched the pool lights reflect off the water droplets that hung tenaciously from the
tips of Chelseas straight, one inch-long unpolished fingernails whenever her hands came up
out of the water. Her long wet brown hair would cling to her face and shoulders and she
would whip it away with a slow shake of her head. She would open her sultry, smoky
hazel eyes and give him a wild, lustful stare, and then they would roll back as she
climaxed and clawed his back with her long fingernails, followed by another lustful stare
and a sexy, satisfied smile. And then she would slowly close her eyes and moan
contentedly and start gently stroking his face and neck with her fingernails as she began
the ascent to her next orgasm.
"Deep breath!" Chelsea panted, rising up, closing her eyes and parting her lips. "Huh?"
Sam said. "Deep breath!" Chelsea repeated quickly as she sealed her mouth on his and
dug her fingernails into his shoulders and used her weight on him to drive them both
underwater, where she kissed him hard, thrusting and gyrating herself on his cock. Sam
thrashed wildly, air bubbling from his nostrils. After several minutes Chelsea let them
surface. Giddy and ecstatic, she exclaimed, "Oh my God, that was like, the most
awesome orgasm!" Sams face was blue, and then red, and he was coughing and spitting
and gasping for air. "What the hell?!" he sputtered, "You almost drowned me!" "As if!"
Chelsea said, rolling her eyes, "Anyway, what part of deep breath did you not
understand?" She lightly scratched her long fingernails down both sides of his face and
held him still and turned her head, her eyes closing and her tongue between her parted
lips as she approached his mouth. Sam moaned into her hot, sweet kiss as he felt her
one inch-long fingernails claw his back. "Ow! That was a little too hard," he said. "I can do
it even harder," Chelsea said, "Would you like to feel?" "No!" Sam cried. "Ok, then
dont complain," she giggled. "Huh? Wait…," Sam started. "Deep breath!" Chelsea
exclaimed, rising above him again.
Chelseas orgasms always got stronger and lasted longer with each one, and it was clear
to Sam after the fifth one underwater that he really needed to practice holding his breath
if he didnt want to quickly come to dread having sex with Chelsea in their new pool.
Chelsea was ten years his junior, and she ran several miles every day, and Sam realized
that he really needed to get and keep himself in shape if he was to survive marriage to
her, let alone trying to keep her satisfied. After several hours in the pool, Sam asked her
jokingly if she didnt secretly wish shed been born a mermaid, to which Chelsea reacted
with a shocked expression, lifted a perfect foot out of the water and as she watched the
droplets trickle from her outspread toes, said, "Nuh uh! Mermaids dont have toenails!"
Sam laughed, "Come to think of it, they dont have two separate legs…wheres their hoo-
hoo and how can they have sex?" "Oh my God," Chelsea said, "No toenails…and no
sex! Yeah, like Id really want to be one. Not!" "So, how about that champagne? To
celebrate you not being a mermaid, and having feet and a hoo-hoo," Sam smiled. She
kissed him and grasped his cock with her toes. "I have a better way to celebrate me
having feet," she said, feeling him start to harden. "And a hoo-hoo," she said, grasping
his cock with her fingernails and guiding it into her. "Ohhh, Chelsea, youre going to kill
me," Sam whined. "Deep breath!" Chelsea exclaimed, sinking her nails into his
shoulders and forcing him underwater.
The next day, Sam had a meeting in town, and Chelsea invited Deb over to see the new
pool. Deb put on her 2-piece bathing suit and beach robe, grabbed a towel and came next
door. When she walked into the pool atrium, Chelsea was already in swimming.
"Bathing suits are optional I gather," Deb laughed, seeing that Chelsea was nude.
Chelsea slowly walked up the steps out of the pool, saying nothing, her eyes riveted to
Debs. She gently eased Debs beach robe off her shoulders and slipped her hands under
her bikini top and removed it, then she hooked her long thumbnails under Debs bikini
bottom and slipped it down her legs, kneeling as she did, caressing Debs legs with her
long fingernails and kissing her inside her thighs. Chelsea stood with her dripping-wet
body against Debs and kissed her tenderly. "Bathing suits are forbidden," Chelsea
whispered, taking Deb by the hand and leading her down the steps into the water. She
smiled at Deb and beckoned her to swim after her. In the middle of the deep end,
Chelsea stroked Debs breasts with her long, clear fingernails and kissed her again.
"How long can you hold your breath underwater?" Chelsea asked. "Uhh, I dont
know…why?" Deb asked hesitantly. "Youll see," Chelsea smiled.
Jenny loved the new pool almost as much as Chelsea, and practically had to be dragged
out of the water for meals, bedtime, and to do her homework. When Sam wasnt around,
and unknown to him, Chelsea let Jenny swim naked. Jenny loved the freedom and the
feeling of the water all over her as much as Chelsea did. Equally much she loved having
little secrets like that just between herself and Chelsea, and often whispered to Chelsea
that they were the two greatest secret-keepers in the world, which made Chelsea beam
with satisfaction. Jenny had Zack over to swim frequently---of course, with both their
bathing suits on, and duly chaperoned. But the biggest thrill for Zack was getting Jenny
to give him backscratches and tummy scratches. Sometimes he would roughhouse with
her in the water, hoping for an accidental scratch or even a touch from her nails, which
were by far the longest hed ever encountered on anyone near his own age. Zack would
do everything Jenny wanted, and never risk offending her by asserting himself, just to be
close to her long fingernails. Sam and Deb marveled that their kids were so inseparable
and never fought or even disagreed. Chelsea marveled too…at Jennys natural talent at
using her nails to captivate her little playmate. Chelsea was overjoyed that Jenny came
about it instinctively, as she herself had done as a child. She had assumed she would
have to work at shaping Jenny in her own image, but Chelsea could see that a little
guidance and some subtle suggestion was all that would be necessary.
In contrast to the others, Genevieves reaction to the new pool was ambivalent at best.
For one thing, she was very self-conscious about her body and disdained seeing herself in
a bathing suit, let alone be seen by others. Although her nipples were surprisingly large,
her breasts were barely noticeable bumps, and her hips had very little curvature. One
reason she wore her hair down to her knees was that it hid her body from view, like a
shiny black shawl. If she were to leave her hair loose, it would weigh her down in the
water and entangle her arms and legs, so before she could go swimming she had to braid
it and wrap it around and around on her head. It looked funny piled on top of her head,
on top of her tiny body, and made her feel even more self-conscious. As a result,
Genevieve had not ever really learned how to swim. Telling that to Chelsea back in their
freshman year was a faux-pas Genevieve came to regret now that there was a pool.
Chelsea, naked and dripping wet, came into her room early one afternoon, scooped her up
off her bed, flung her over one shoulder kicking and screaming, carried her out to the
pool and dove into the deep end with Genevieve clinging to her for dear life. Genevieve
was frantic, screaming that she couldnt swim, especially with her hair down. Chelsea
held Genevieve tightly under her little bottom, and Genevieve clutched her long nails into
Chelseas back. "Mmmm, that makes me soooo hot," Chelsea moaned, "Do me with
your nails." Chelsea reached up and tried to pry one of Genevieves hands away, to bring
it to her waiting pussy, but Genevieve just dug her nails in deeper and cried, "I cant let
go! Ill drown!" "You wont," Chelsea said soothingly, "I wont let you drown. Just
relax." She felt Genevieves nails lighten their grip on her back, and gradually she
released one hand and let Chelsea guide it underwater to her mound. "Ooooooohh, my
God! Genevieve, your nails are incredible," Chelsea gasped, orgasming almost
immediately and shuddering all over. Genevieve squeaked and dug her other nails deep
into Chelseas shoulder. "Oww! I so will be pissed if you leave marks on my perfect
body!" Chelsea exclaimed. "Dont let me go!" Genevieve cried, terrified. Chelsea
closed her eyes and pressed her lips against Genevieves and made her world spin with a
long, hot, sweet kiss. "Dont worry, Genevieve," Chelsea said, looking deep into
Genevieves espresso-colored eyes, "I wont let you go. Ever."
CHAPTER 7…
Other than her father, who was financially supportive but emotionally distant, Chelsea
had no family she knew, and Genevieve and now Deb were her only friends. Sam had
just the one brother, and some distant cousins he wasnt close with, and most of his
friends had been his late wifes friends and were not supportive of him getting remarried
so soon after her death. And he hadnt heard from his oldest and best friend Rob since
Robs wedding…where unbeknownst to Sam, Chelsea had slept with Rob, his bride-to-
be, the brides sister, the grooms 18 year-old high-school-senior cousin (whom Chelsea
also hooked up with Genevieve) and finally, Robs brother Don, a priest. So although
Sam offered to make her a big wedding, given that it was her first and hopefully only,
Chelsea thanked him but insisted on just a small ceremony with their closest friends.
They figured out that it would be just the two of them and Jenny, plus Genevieve and
Deb, and Sam came up with the suggestion that he fly everyone to an exclusive and
secluded tropical island resort, and have the wedding there. Chelsea thought that was a
brilliant and wonderful idea. "You know what would be like, totally awesome?" she
said, "If we got married on the beach and everyone was naked! Then you and I could
like, swim into the ocean and have sex!" Sam diplomatically pointed out that Jenny
would be there, and Chelsea agreed to shelve her idea, albeit with some disappointment
and pouting. When they told Deb of the plans for an island getaway wedding, Jenny
asked if Zack was invited, and Deb said she thought probably Zack would stay home with
his dad. Jenny burst into a crying tantrum and said she wasnt going if Zack wasnt
going. Chelsea said that Sam didnt have anyone standing up with him at the wedding,
and how it would be majorly cute if Sam asked Zack to be his best man. He agreed and
beckoned Jenny with open arms. Jenny stopped crying and burst into a huge smile…and
ran and threw her arms around Chelsea and told her how awesome she was.
With everyone sitting at a table by the pool, Chelsea decided that the girls would all wear
white wraparound sarongs, and Sam and Zack would wear deconstructed white linen
sport coats and dockers. The Sonny Crockett look, Sam had called it, which elicited a
knowing snicker from Deb, but drew blank stares from Chelsea and Genevieve who were
probably in kindergarten when "Miami Vice" went off the air. Chelsea also insisted Sam
be shirtless "because I want to see your hairy chest the whole time." Other than those
outfits, they packed lightly. Tee-shirts, shorts and bathing suits were about all they
would need. And Chelsea didnt figure to be wearing anything at all most of the time.
They decided to arrive a couple days before the anticipated ceremony, and Deb suggested
that she and Genevieve could take Zack and Jenny and fly back the day after, so Sam and
Chelsea could stay on for their honeymoon. Chelsea gasped, "Nuh uh! Everyone like,
totally stays the entire two weeks!" and before Sam could interject, she grabbed his arm
with her nails and said urgently, "Tell them Sam! Tell them they totally have to stay!"
Deb and Genevieve looked at each other and smiled uneasily. Neither of them knew that
Chelsea was sleeping with the other, but they each wouldve welcomed a vacation away
from Chelsea instead of with her, for what each knew would be two weeks of stressful
intrigue and subterfuge, in order to service Chelseas superhuman sexual appetite without
Sam finding out. Sam shrugged, "You heard the bride," and Deb and Genevieve each
knew it was hopeless to dissent. Chelsea stretched her long, toned legs under the table
and gently scratched Debs and Genevieves legs with her longish red toenails and
sighed, "Oh my God, its gonna be so awesome!"
The exclusive island resort was far out in the south Pacific, and they had to first fly from
JFK to LAX, then on to Honolulu, then to Fiji, and then take a private seaplane to their
secluded island. Fortunately, Sam had used frequent-flyer miles to upgrade them all to
first class. There was also a substantial time change, which was one reason they decided
to arrive a few days before their wedding. It was the first time any of them except
Chelsea and Sam had flown more than 4-5 hours straight, and the first time Jenny or Zack
had been up in an airplane, so they didnt know what to expect in terms of the 8 year-old
kids possibly getting air sickness, or just being over-tired and cranky. As it turned out,
the kids were fine. On the first leg, from JFK to LAX, a flight attendant asked Zack and
Jenny if they wanted to see the cockpit and meet the pilots. Zack of course looked to
Jenny for direction, but he was happy that she nodded, because he really wanted to see
the cockpit. Jenny whispered to Sam---a little too loudly---in reference to the flight
attendant who was rather flamboyantly gay, "Daddy he talks funny." Sam turned red and
wished he could fit into the overhead bin or beneath the seat in front of him, but Chelsea
and Genevieve were cracking up. Zack was in heaven when he saw the huge panel of
instruments and switches, and asked a bunch of remarkably intelligent questions about
what each one did. Jenny just made eyes at the co-pilot, who was boyish-looking and
very handsome. He offered her a pair of the little plastic replicas of pilots wings they
hand out to kids, and Jenny was in heaven too, when she accepted the wings from him,
and watched his expression of surprise at the unexpected sight of half-inch long,
manicured fingernails on an 8 year-old girl. "My nails are longer than anyones in my
entire school, even the sixth graders!" Jenny said sweetly, modelling her fingers
gracefully, as shed often seen Chelsea do, "Arent they awesome?" The young co-pilot
swallowed hard and forced an uneasy smile and nodded, and the flight attendant ushered
the kids back to their seats.
Actually, it was Genevieve and Chelsea who had the most issues with the long flight.
Genevieve was too short for her neck to fit comfortably against the headrest, but too tall
to duck under it, so she kept trying to stuff various combinations of pillows and blankets
behind or under her, but never really could get comfortable. Despite a full complement
of music and movies on her player, Chelsea was still bored. She was also cranky because
the effects of the marijuana brownie she ate before they left home had worn off, and she
knew it would be two weeks before she could get high again. And when Chelsea got
bored and cranky there was only one thing that she craved. She slipped her shoes off and
started stroking Sams pant leg with her foot, and began scratching his arm gently with
the tips of her one inch-long fingernails. He looked at her disapprovingly, which had no
effect. Then he looked at her pleadingly, which only made her up the stakes, raking his
arm harder with her incredible fingernails, licking her lips, rolling his sleeve up and
making little bites on his shoulder. She cupped her hands to his ear and whispered for
him to put the blanket on his lap and take his cock out underneath, and she drilled her hot
tongue around inside his ear and bit his earlobe. Sam was breathing heavily and starting
to sweat and he turned to beg her to stop, and she had his face in the grip of her one inch-long
nails and she gave him a long, slow, honey-sweet kiss. She unbuckled her seatbelt and
raised the armrest and put her knee in his lap and slipped her hand inside Sams shirt and
started scratching her nails on his chest. "Miss? Or, is it maam? Im sorry but the
captain has the fasten-seatbelt sign on. Ill have to ask you to buckle up," the gay flight
attendant said petulantly, clearly disapproving of Chelseas uninhibited display of
foreplay in public. "Were on our way to get married," Sam said sheepishly. "Looks like
the honeymoons already started," the attendant said, rolling his eyes and making a
theatrical gesture with his hand.
Chelsea slunk down in her seat, pouting, and feeling the uncomfortable wetness between
her legs. Sam could smell her musk, and hoped nobody else could. She reached under
the seat and rifled through her carry-on, and came up with a little pink plastic cylinder
slightly larger than a lipstick case. "Chelsea, youre not going to use that here?!" Sam
whispered. "I like, so have to cum," Chelsea whispered, biting her lower lip and digging
her nails into his leg through his pants. "Oww!" he whispered, trying to pry her fingers
off him. "At least go in the lavatory," Sam whispered. "Oh, ok. Whatever," Chelsea
said. "And try not to scream out loud," Sam admonished her, "I know what that vibrator
does to you." "I really want what you do to me," Chelsea whispered, scratching his face
lightly with her nails and leaning to kiss him. As Chelsea got up and went to the
lavatory, Sam looked at his watch and saw that they were only a couple hours into the
first leg of the trip, and tried not to think about how he would manage Chelsea for the
remainder. After about fifteen minutes, Chelsea returned to her seat, and Sams fears
were confirmed when she looked at him with her nostrils flared and her smoky hazel eyes
burning with desire and she traced a long nail around his lips and he could smell her
juices on it and she poked it into his mouth, compelling him to lick her one inch-long
fingernails slowly one by one. She pretended to cuddle up to him and go to sleep,
covering them both with a blanket, but underneath she worked his now-hard cock through
his pants. "Jesus Chelsea, youre going to make me make a mess," Sam whispered
urgently. "Loan me your thumb and I promise I wont," Chelsea whispered, giving him
an evil smirk, grasping his hand under the blanket, unfolding his thumb and inserting it
into her hot, wet pussy. Sam felt her constrict around his thumb and she slowly moved
his hand around and in and out while she clenched and unclenched her pussy. Finally he
saw her eyes roll back, and her head fell against his shoulder. "Better now?" he
whispered. "Mmm hmm," she said softly. "Will that hold you for a while?" he asked.
"Nuh uh," she said, gently biting his shoulder, and he felt her nails press into his hand
and her pussy squeeze his thumb again. Finally after three more climaxes Chelsea took
Sams thumb out of her pussy and gently scratched the back of his hand with her
fingernails, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Suddenly he felt her begin massaging his
crotch with her foot again, and he quickly grew hard and before he knew what hit him he
came. "Shit! Chelsea!" Sam whispered. "What? Wasnt it good?" she asked. "You
promised you wouldnt!" he whispered. "I meant it when I promised. Thats what
counts," she said softly, and she fell asleep. Sam was feeling very uncomfortable the rest
of the flight, having cum in his pants, but he opted to remain in his seat. He preferred not
to wake Chelsea, because the odds were shed wake up horny. And he hoped that his
pants would be dry by the time they landed.
They had a two-hour layover at LAX, and Chelsea kept pressuring Sam to hire a limo to
drive them around while they had sex, but the security line was a mile long and Sam
assured her they wouldnt be able to get back to the gate on time to make their next flight.
While they were waiting at the gate, Chelsea sidled up to Genevieve, asking her to
accompany her to the ladies room. Genevieve knew Chelseas moves, so she lied and
said she was feeling a little queasy after the flight. Deb was new to Chelsea, and she
agreed to go with her to freshen up. When they returned about twenty minutes later,
Chelsea was in a serene, placid mood…and Deb looked like shed just run a 100-meter
sprint in snowshoes. Jenny and Zack were sitting next to each other playing a portable
video game. A straight-laced looking woman, probably in her late thirties, got up to
reprimand her two unruly boys, about nine and eleven, who were running around
stepping over peoples feet and making a general nuisance of themselves. When the
woman came back to where shed been sitting, someone had taken her seat, so she sat
down next to Jenny. The woman glanced over and cried, "Oh my! Someone really needs
to cut your fingernails. Theyre so inappropriate for a little girl. And dangerous…and
who knows what germs are under them, and…" Jenny started to cry, and she ran to
Chelsea and told her what the mean lady had said. Chelsea started to get up, but Sam
said, "Just let it go." "Im so not letting it go," Chelsea said, and she went over and sat
next to the woman and whispered to her with an icy smile, "I hear you think my
daughters nails are dangerous. So hopefully I wont need to convince you how
dangerous my nails are," and she grasped the womans bare arm with her her one inch-long
unpolished fingernails. "Im going to call her over, and youre going to apologize for
hurting her feelings. Are we clear? Just nod." The woman was shaking so hard Chelsea
could barely tell she had nodded, and she called Jenny over and said, "This lady has
something she wants to say to you." The woman began to apologize, but Chelsea
interrupted, "My nails think you should get on your knees." Stuttering and trembling,
the woman got down on her knees and apologized profusely to Jenny, and then Chelsea
released her arm and walked back to her own seat. Sam gasped, "Wow! You with
Jenny…youre like a tigress protecting her cub. I wouldnt want to cross you." "No, you
wouldnt," Chelsea said softly.
The next flight took off just before dinner, and drinks were free in first class, so by early
evening Chelseas tray table was littered with empty little vodka bottles, and she had a
strong buzz going. Chelsea took her portable DVD player out of her carry-on and put it
on her tray table. "Watch a movie with me," she whispered, taking one of her earbuds
out and putting it in Sams other ear as she rested her head against his shoulder. "Ok,"
Sam said, relieved by anything that occupied Chelsea which didnt risk getting arrested
for public indecency. Chelsea laid a blanket over them both and snuggled close, and she
started her DVD player. "Chelsea!" Sam said with astonishment as the movie began.
"What? Dont tell me you dont like porno!" she said, "All guys like porno." He felt her
soft toes work his socks down, and she scratched his ankles slowly with her longish
toenails. Underneath the blanket she unfastened his belt and opened his pants and
worked her hand inside his boxers. "Someone might see!" he whispered pleadingly.
"Thats so hot," she whispered, giggling as the stroke of her long thumbnail across the
head of his hard cock forced Sam to stifle a moan of pleasure.
As most porno movies do, the one Chelsea had selected lapsed into a scene with two
women. Sam groaned. "Oh…dont even! Guys are so into girl-on-girl action," Chelsea
whispered to Sam, giggling. "I am not," Sam whispered. Chelsea gave his cock a
squeeze and giggled, "Liar." "Ok well, in the movies its hot. But in real life I havent
met any lesbian couples who look anything like the girls in porno movies." "How many
straight couples have you met that look anything like porno stars?" Chelsea laughed.
"Well…theres us," Sam said with a grin. "Admit it, youd get off seeing me with
another hot girl," Chelsea said. "Welllll…Maybe if you werent my fiance," Sam said.
"Does that mean the weddings off?" Chelsea asked with pretend alarm. "Right, like Id
dump you just to see you swap spit with another girl," he said, and he leaned over to kiss
her. "What if you didnt have to dump me," she said, stroking his face seductively with
her long, clear fingernails. Sam squirmed uneasily. "So," Chelsea continued, fondling his
erection lightly with the tips of her long fingernails, "Who would you like to see me
with?" "Charlotte Johanssen," Sam said. "Wow, that was fast. Seems like youve been
thinking about it," Chelsea giggled, giving his cockhead a scrape with her thumbnail,
making Sam inhale sharply. Chelsea went on, "Although…I might really do her, if I had
the chance. Shes way hot. But you have to pick someone possible. I mean, someone
we both know." "Were missing the movie," Sam said pointing to the little screen.
"What about Genevieve?" Chelsea asked. "What about her?" Sam asked. Chelsea rolled
her eyes, "You know what I mean." "Chelsea, this is a ridiculous conversation," Sam
said. "I think its a fun conversation," she giggled, stroking his shaft with all her nails,
"So, would you get off seeing me and Genevieve together?" "No offense, but Genevieve
doesnt exactly look like a porno queen," Sam said, "In fact, she kind of doesnt have
much of a body at all." "Oh my God, youve been checking her out," Chelsea giggled.
"Its pretty obvious even without checking her out," Sam said. "Youve never seen her
naked," Chelsea reminded him, "And all the guys Ive ever seen her with have been
really hot. Word is, shes incredible in bed." "I cant believe were talking about this,"
Sam said. Chelsea continued, "Just ask your friend Robs cousin…the high-school
senior…remember?" "Dont remind me," Sam sighed. "Im sure youve noticed
Genevieves long, dark-red fingernails," Chelsea purred in Sams ear, lapping her tongue
around and nibbling his earlobe, while she stroked his dick with her nails. Sam inhaled
and coughed. "I thought so," Chelsea giggled, "Her nails are almost as hot as mine,
arent they." Sam breathed heavily. "Arent they," Chelsea repeated, scratching his cock
a little harder and faster. "Ok! Ok! Yes, they are," Sam gasped. "Deb," Chelsea said.
"Deb?" Sam repeated. "How about me and Deb. Would you like to see us get it on?"
Chelsea asked. "My God, Chelsea, Debs our next-door neighbor, our daughters best-
friends mom…and shes like half again your age!" Sam exclaimed. Chelsea laughed,
"Sam, youre half again my age. Deb is more than twice my age. Shes 46." "Youre
shitting me!" Sam cried, "No way!" "Way," Chelsea said, "When she told me I was like,
shut up! And, shes never had anything done." "Thats amazing," Sam said, "She
certainly looks…" "Hot?" Chelsea offered. "Well…yeah, I guess," Sam said. "Oh my
God, youd totally like to do her!" Chelsea exclaimed. Sam said, "Just because I admire
her looks doesnt mean I want to screw her. Im not that kind of guy, Chelsea. Id never
cheat on you. I want you to know that." "You wouldnt be cheating if I was in on it,"
Chelsea said with a smile. Sam whispered, "Jesus Chelsea, I cant believe were sitting
here talking about threesomes with Genevieve and Deb." "Wait, wouldnt that be a
foursome?" Chelsea said, then she gasped, "Oh my God, wouldnt that be like, totally,
awesomely hot?" Chelsea reached for an unopened little bottle of vodka. "I think youve
had enough to drink," Sam said, taking the bottle from her and turning off the DVD
player, "Maybe too much." "Give it back!" Chelsea pouted. "Im cutting you off," Sam
said. "And Im getting you off," Chelsea whispered, scratching his legs with her toenails
and stroking his cock with her fingernails. "Ok! Ok! Heres your vodka…but promise
me its your last one," Sam croaked. "I promise," Chelsea said, and Sam handed her the
little bottle. As she set it down on her tray table, she increased stroking his cock with her
nails and in several seconds she felt him shooting. "Y-you promised!" Sam gasped
breathlessly. "I promised it would be my last bottle," Chelsea smiled as she milked his
softening cock with her fingers, "I never promised I wouldnt get you off." She slipped
her hand out from under the blanket and let Sam watch her lick and suck her long nails
one by one, slowly. Then she opened the tiny bottle of vodka and said, "Cheers!" before
pouring the contents into her open mouth and swallowing it. "Oh man, is this the kind of
behavior Im going to have to look forward to for the next sixty years?" Sam joked.
"Nuh uh," Chelsea said, kissing him on the cheek, then she took out an emery board and
started touching up her one inch-long unpolished nails, and she whispered, "After were legal
I wont need to be on my best behavior anymore." Sam grinned and put his arm around
her and kissed her tenderly and said, "Why do I love you so much?" "Because," she said,
"Im awesome." She took Sams hand and slipped it under the blanket. "By the way,
Im also like, majorly horny," she whispered, as she fed his thumb to her hot, ravenous
pussy.
Once Chelsea had her fill of orgasms, she gave Sam back his tired, cramped hand and he
fell asleep quickly. They turned out the lights in the cabin, and aside from a few
insomniacs who kept their reading lights on, it was mostly dark. Even the flight
attendants seemed to have disappeared. Chelsea got up and stretched languidly and
glanced around. Zack and Jenny were asleep against each other in their seats. Deb was
asleep in her window seat with her back to Genevieve, who was curled up in the large
first-class seat, facing Deb, with her back to the aisle. She was completely covered with
her knee-length black hair, except for her little white bare feet with their wrinkled pink
soles and longish, dark-red polished toenails. She stirred slightly, and moaned softly,
then she slowly opened her eyes, waking up to the feel of Chelseas nails gently
scratching her back, and warm breath on her face. "Are you awake?" Chelsea asked very
quietly. "I am now," Genevieve whined. "Shhh!" Chelsea whispered, "People are trying
to sleep."
"You totally have to join the Mile High Club," Chelsea whispered, pulling Genevieve to
her feet, "Im already a member." "A)Whats that? And B) why do I have to join now, in
the middle of the night?" Genevieve whispered. "A)Youll see, and B) because I say so,"
Chelsea answered in a whisper as she pushed Genevieve ahead of her toward the galley.
Chelsea looked around furtively, and ducked into the lavatory, grabbing Genevieve and
quickly lifting her and setting her feet down on the toilet lid while she closed the door
behind her. "What on earth are you doing?" Genevieve asked. "Were not on earth,"
Chelsea said, "Were a mile high." And she pulled Genevieve into a hot, dizzying kiss,
sliding her hands under Genevieves top and raking her softly with her long fingernails,
then slipping her fingers down into Genevieves sweatpants and under her panties,
digging her nails gently into her little ass as she continued probing Genevieves mouth
with her tongue. Genevieves sweatpants and panties were quickly down around her
ankles, and Chelsea yanked them off, burying her tongue in Genevieves pussy and
bringing her quickly to climax. Chelsea put one bare foot on Genevieves shoulder and
leaned forward, spreading her legs as much as she could in the confines of the tiny
lavatory, and she grabbed Genevieves hand and commanded her, "Do me with your
nails." Chelsea came several times, then she deep-kissed Genevieve again. "This is the
Mile High Club?!" Genevieve gasped. Chelsea giggled, "Oh no, that was just the
application. This is how you actually join…" and she put one of Genevieves feet on
each of her shoulders and grasped Genevieves little clit with her thumb and pointer-
fingernail and sank her remaining fingers deep into her pussy, and used her one inch-long
nails to bring Genevieve to a string of mind-blowing orgasms while she sucked and
chewed on Genevieves little toes. Chelsea peeked outside the lavatory to make sure
nobody was around. As she left Genevieve there, naked from the waist down, panting
and dazed and exhausted, Chelsea said, "Im pleased to inform you that your membership
has been approved."
Chelsea padded back down the aisle, past her seat, to what had been Genevieves seat,
and plopped down. She leaned over Deb, who was still fast asleep, and shook her gently.
"Uhhh…are we landing?" Deb muttered, disoriented. "Nuh uh, not yet," Chelsea
whispered. "Huh? Chelsea? What time is it?" Deb whispered, yawning. "Time for you
to join the Mile High Club," Chelsea whispered, her hot breath and wet tongue caressing
Debs ear, as she slipped her hand into Debs panties, and her one inch-long nails found
Debs clit. Deb grabbed Chelseas wrist and turned her face up, only to receive Chelseas
lips and tongue in an overpowering kiss that lasted until Chelseas incredible nails
brought Deb to three monumental orgasms in rapid succession. Thoroughly satisfied and
completely drained, Deb fell instantly back into a deep sleep, and Chelsea went back to
her seat and closed her eyes. Genevieve came stumbling down the aisle, and went back
to her seat. She was shaking like a leaf, and she lay back with her eyes closed and began
taking deep breaths and pretending she was back in her childhood home, in the back yard,
lying in the grass in the warm summer sun. Eventually her heartbeat slowed to where it
was no longer pounding in her ears. She sighed and turned facing Debs back and began
to drift off to sleep. She felt vaguely aware of something taking hold of her arm, and then
she felt a warm, soft sensation in her hand and suddenly her eyes popped open and she
was awake. Still with her back to Genevieve, Deb had Genevieves arm draped over her,
cupping Genevieves hand under her blouse to her naked breast, caressing Genevieves
long fingernails and guiding Genevieves fingers to fondle her nipple. Genevieves heart
started racing again, and she yanked her hand back. Deb turned around with a start, and
she saw Genevieve and screamed, and in a reflex action Genevieve screamed and she
jumped up. People started mumbling and whining, and the gay flight attendant came
charging down the aisle and said to Genevieve, "Maam Im going to have to ask you to
take your seat and remain quiet for the remainder of the flight. Other passengers are
trying to sleep!" "Its my fault, sir," Deb said, "I frightened her by accident."
"Well…whatever. Just please try not to disturb those around you," the flight attendant
said snippily, and walked away. "Im so embarrassed," Deb whispered to Genevieve, "I
mean, Im absolutely mortified. I thought you were…uh…I mean, I mustve been having
a dream." "I want a parachute," Genevieve muttered.
They finally landed in Hawaii and a shuttle bus took them to the seaplane hangar. The
seaplane flight to the exclusive island resort was cramped, noisy and rough, and everyone
was happy when it was over. Deb and Genevieve smiled self-consciously at one another
when they couldnt avoid eye-contact. It didnt escape Chelseas notice, and her eyes
twinkled and she licked her lips and sighed with satisfaction. Chelsea acted terrified
getting on and off the little plane, holding on to him for dear life. Sam chuckled to
himself at Chelseas girlish fearfulness, and he smiled warmly when she warned Jenny
over and over to be extra careful and to hang on to someones arm. Chelsea whispered
aside to Jenny, "Because if you slip, you might scratch that persons arm but at least you
wont break a nail."
CHAPTER 8…
There was a trio of lovely young polynesian-looking women who greeted them at the
dock and placed leis around their necks. Chelsea noticed one of the young women had
quite long nails, and she made sure that woman was the one who placed the lei around
her neck. She looked deep into her coal-black eyes until the girl lowered her head shyly.
Chelsea helped the young woman place the lei over her head, grasping her hands gently.
"I see you like long fingernails," Chelsea said softly, "Do you like mine?" The young
woman nodded and giggled nervously, unaccustomed to personal exchanges with guests.
"Some of yours need evening-out," Chelsea said, holding the girls hands, and she burned
a stare into her eyes and said, "Come to my room later…bring me some towels. Ill do
your nails for you. Ok?" "Ok," the girl said, mesmerized by Chelseas warm hazel eyes,
and the gentle caress of Chelseas nails on her palm.
A handsome young man dressed in a white linen suit escorted them to a golf cart while a
couple of short, stocky native boys loaded their luggage on the back. "My names Ian,
Ill be your host during your stay," the young man said with a strong Australian accent.
"Hi, Im Chelsea," Chelsea said, extending her hand, and she took the front seat next to
Ian in the cart. "Anything you folks need, Im your man," he called over his shoulder as
he put the cart in motion. "Really? Anything?" Chelsea asked sweetly, turning sideways
with her bare feet on the seat, spreading her toes and admiring her longish red-polished
toenails. Chelsea winked at Genevieve and Genevieve rolled her tired, bloodshot eyes.
When they arrived at their destination, everyones jaws dropped. It was a large home, in
the island motif, with a faux-thatched roof, surrounded by palm trees and lush, tropical
plants. A kaleidoscope of flowers bloomed everywhere, and the house had a wraparound
lanai in back that encompassed all four bedrooms and overlooked the turquoise-blue
ocean beyond a pristine and completely private white-sand beach. It was truly a
paradise, and everyone was speechless. "Oh my God, how awesome!" Chelsea
exclaimed, and she began to shed her clothes on the ground. Deb shrieked and covered
Zacks eyes. Chelsea ran naked toward the ocean, motioning for the others to join her.
"Daddy, cover your eyes too!" Jenny exclaimed. Sam laughed, "Its ok, Im allowed to
look." Jenny stamped her foot and cried, "No youre not!" as she began undressing
herself. "Jenny!" Sam cried, slapping his hand over his eyes. He heard Jennys squeals
of "Chelsea! Chelsea! Wait for me!" grow softer in the distance, and Deb said, "All clear.
Theyre in the water." Genevieve didnt want to immerse her long hair in the salt water,
so she said she was going to the house and braid it up, but also to herself she decided to
put on her bathing suit. Even on a private beach in the middle of nowhere, with just her
close friends, she was extremely self-concsious of her small breasts and lack of curves.
With Jenny present, Chelsea could only watch Deb cavort in the ocean in her naked
splendor, and Genevieve in her tiny bikini, and feel her lust build inside her with no
outlet. She couldnt bring herself to send Jenny away, even on a pretense, and so it didnt
take long for Chelseas frustration to bring an end to their skinny-dipping. Everyone
decided to take a nap and try to get over their jet-lag, and they all headed back to the
house. They found a note from Sam that he had gone to play 18 holes of golf, and taken
Zack with him to caddy. Genevieve suggested that since there were four bedrooms, she
could bunk with Jenny, and Deb and Zack could each have their own rooms. Jenny
immediately threw a screaming tantrum and insisted upon sharing a room with Zack, and
Chelsea said that would be ok with her if it was ok with Deb…and of course, with one
look from Chelsea, Deb agreed. Genevieve didnt mind having her own room either.
She didnt dislike kids, but she really wasnt in to them. So everyone went off to their
own rooms to sleep. Deb and Genevieve quickly locked their doors behind them because
they were both exhausted and wanted to keep Chelsea out.
The doorbell rang, and Chelsea padded across the floor in her bare feet, wearing a beach
robe. Standing at the door was the pretty young polynesian girl, carrying a stack of
towels. "I brought towels, like you asked, miss," she said in her slight accent. Chelsea
smiled warmly, feeling herself becoming aroused. "Come put them in the bedroom,"
Chelsea said, "And Ill get my manicure set." "Oh, its ok, miss," the girl said, "I must
go finish my work." "I insist," Chelsea said, "You wouldnt want to offend me, would
you?" "No miss," the girl answered. "Make yourself comfortable," Chelsea said,
motioning her to sit on the bed. The girl sat uneasily on the edge, with her hands clasped
in her lap. "Im Chelsea, by the way. Whats your name?" Chelsea asked. "Juliette,"
she said. "That sounds French," Chelsea said. "It is French, miss. These islands once
belonged to France," Juliette said. "How old are you, Juliette?" Chelsea asked.
"Nineteen, miss," she answered. "Youre like, way hot," Chelsea said. "I have been
working outside…in the sun," Juliette said. Chelsea laughed, "Huh? Oh! No, not hot
like heat. Hot means like, beautiful…like, sexy." "Oh, thank you miss," Juliette said
shyly, lowering her head. Chelseas eyes scoured Juliette from head to toe: her perfect
tanned skin, her long wavy dark hair and asian-looking coal-black eyes, her strong, toned
legs and feet in flat leather sandals; her beautiful unpolished toenails, and her long, slim,
unpolished fingernails. Chelsea could feel herself getting wetter and more excited by the
second. She took her manicure set and began to shape Juliettes nails with a wide emery
board. They were all quite long, and Chelsea knew they just needed some symmetry to
be perfect. She massaged Juliettes hands, and asked, "Do you like this?" Juliette
nodded, "Yes, miss." "Call me Chelsea. Please," Chelsea said softly. "I mustnt, miss.
I am forbidden to be familiar with the guests. I may lose my position," Juliette explained.
"I wont tell anyone. Im the worlds best secret-keeper," Chelsea smiled, "Now, say
Chelsea." "Chelsea," Juliette whispered. Chelsea smiled a warm, bright smile of
perfect white teeth, capturing Juliettes gaze with her sulty hazel eyes. "Do you like how
your nails look now?" Chelsea asked. Juliette looked at her nails, so long and perfectly-
shaped, and she nodded, "I like them well, miss…I mean, Chelsea." Chelsea raised
Juliettes hands to her lips and kissed them. Juliette looked down shyly. "Your feet must
get tired from standing all day," Chelsea said. "They are feet," Juliette said, "They are
meant for standing and walking." "A girls feet are meant to be sexy," Chelsea said,
lifting Juliettes feet up onto the bed and slipping off her sandals. "Oh, no, I cannot lie
down, Chelsea! I must work. I must go," Juliette said. "Just for a minute?" Chelsea
pleaded, "I want to make your feet feel good." She took her pumice stone and smoothed
Juliettes soles. "There…feel them now," Chelsea said, and Juliette felt her soles. "Oh!
They are like a babys! You are a magician!" Juliette cried. "I have more magic,"
Chelsea said, as she began massaging Juliettes feet. "I am afraid I may fall asleep!"
Juliette said fearfully. "Dont worry, you wont," Chelsea laughed, scraping Juliettes
soles with her one inch-long thumbnails, just hard enough not to tickle. She heard Juliette
start to breathe harder. "You have beautiful toes," Chelsea said, "Mind if I snack on
them?" "Snack? What is that?" Juliette asked, then she gasped when Chelsea sucked her
big toe and ran the tip of her tongue over the tips of her other toes, and in between them.
"Thats snack," Chelsea giggled softly, then she sucked all of Juliettes toes one by one,
and sucked and kissed her soles and heels slowly and noisily. Juliette swallowed hard.
Chelsea could see Juliettes chest rise and fall quickly, as she began to pant.
"Chelsea…," Juliette squeaked. "Shhh. Youll spoil the surprise," Chelsea whispered,
"Are you ready?" "Ready?" Juliette repeated apprehensively. Chelsea pressed her
thumbnails into the fleshy part of Juliettes sole, just behind her toes, and Juliette inhaled
sharply and she grabbed herself between her legs, and her body shook. As Juliette
exhaled and went limp following the orgasm, Chelsea crawled on top of her, kissing her
way up Juliettes flat stomach and opening her blouse and kissing and sucking her small
but firm breasts. "It is forbidden! It is a sin!" Juliette gasped. "No, its magic," Chelsea
whispered, and she sealed her lips tenderly against Juliettes and vanquished her
resistance with a hot, sweet, deep kiss. Chelsea found Juliettes clit with her long
fingernails, and quickly brought her to another, much stronger orgasm. And another.
She guided Juliettes hand to her own clit and whispered, "Do it just like I did to you."
Together they brought each other to orgasm after orgasm. With their free hands they
gently stroked each others bodies with their long, natural fingernails, as their tongues
intertwined, and they tasted the sweetness of each others lips. Chelseas toes played
with Juliettes, and her longish red toenails scored Juliettes legs lightly as they climaxed
again and again. Finally Chelsea rolled off of Juliette, satisfied, and she fell asleep.
When she opened her eyes a few minutes later, Juliette was gone.
Genevieve moaned softly in her sleep, then her eyes popped open and she sat up suddenly
to see her feet in Chelseas hands and her toes in Chelseas mouth. Genevieve gasped,
"God! Chelsea! How did you...?!" "You left your lanai door unlocked for me," Chelsea
smiled, "That was sweet of you." Chelsea picked something off her tongue with her long
nails and wiped it on the sheet. "You have a little sand between your delicious little
toes," Chelsea said. "Im still tired Chels. Cant you find something else to occupy you
for a while?" Genevieve yawned. "Youve been sleeping for like, two hours!" Chelsea
said impatiently, "And I was occupied. I was sampling the local cuisine." "Theres stuff
to eat?" Genevieve asked. "Not any more. She left," Chelsea giggled. "Huh?"
Genevieve said, still not quite with it. "Remember the girls who put the leis on us?
Remember the one who put mine on…the especially hot one with really long nails? Her
name is Juliette and shes nineteen and shes like, amazing in bed," Chelsea said
excitedly. Genevieve rolled her eyes and flopped back down on the bed, covering her
eyes with her hands. Chelsea started passionately kissing and sucking Genevieves feet
again. "One more hour. Just let me sleep one more hour…please?" Genevieve begged.
Chelsea pounced on her instantly. "It gets me soooo hot when you beg me to stop," she
whispered, stroking a long fingernail down her cheek,"Dont you know that by now?"
After another half-hour of sex, Chelsea heard the front door open, and she tied up her
beach robe and ran to greet Sam. She leapt onto him and wrapped her legs around him.
Clutching his face with her clear, one inch-long fingernails she panted, "We need a shower."
She paused for a moment with her parted lips just short of touching his, her warm, moist
breath teasing his face, and she took his lip between her teeth and slowly swabbed her
tongue inside his mouth, and then she closed her eyes and smothered him with a kiss so
hot and sweet it made his knees buckle. "Chelsea!" Sam said, motioning down with his
head. She opened one eye and saw Zack, looking up with his mouth open and his eyes
popping. Chelsea purred in Sams ear, "So, do something. Otherwise in like, a second
hes gonna see major stuff happen." "Go ahead Tiger!" Sam said jovially, "Jennys
waiting for you!" "Cool!" Zack said, and he ran off. "Shower. Now." Chelsea panted,
and as Sam carried her to the shower, she pulled his golf shirt up and raked his back with
her long fingernails while she sank her teeth lightly into his neck and sucked hard.
Chelsea slammed Sam against the tiled shower, pulling at his lips with her teeth, and
stroking her long fingernails down his neck. "I want up," she moaned as he fussed with
the water valves, trying to get the temperature right. Chelsea stepped on his feet and
curled her toes hard. "Oww!" he cried, "Your toenails!" "Theyre really sharp, arent
they," she panted, "All my nails are really sharp." And she dug her one inch-long unpolished
fingernails into his shoulders and her toenails into his thigh as she pulled herself up and
climbed on him, wrapping her long, toned legs around him, feeding his hard cock into her
hot pussy, grinding and thrusting herself rythmically against him. "Ohhhhh! Jesus
Christ! Ohhhh fuck!" he moaned as her hot pussy constricted like a fist around his
throbbing cock and pulled hard. It felt like she could rip his dick off of him with just her
pussy, if she wanted to. "Youre incredible!" Sam cried. "I know," Chelsea panted
breathlessly. "Ohhhh!" Sam cried as she dragged her nails slowly down his chest. "But I
never get tired of hearing it," she added, and she clamped her mouth on his neck and
sucked with all her power as she climaxed. Chelsea got off of Sam and grabbed his arm
and pulled him out of the shower, running with him soaking wet into the bedroom,
pushing him on the bed ahead of her. Sam grabbed Chelsea by the shoulders and tried to
flip her on her back, but she dug her thumbnails into his shoulders and forced him on his
back. "Me on top," she said lustfully, straddling him and lowering her hot, wet pussy
onto his rock-hard cock. She leaned down and took his nipple between her teeth and she
sucked hard. Then she sat up and clawed his chest with both hands. "Oww! Shit,
Chelsea, that was really hard!" Sam cried. "It was just a playful little scratch," she said
ingenuously, "I never scratch really hard. I might break a nail." Chelsea pressed her
luscious breasts against him, and Sam winced as her salty sweat burned the scratches.
Chelsea licked her hot tongue slowly along the red lines, and then she blew softly on
them. "Does that feel better, lover?" she whispered. "Yes, thanks," Sam groaned.
"Good," Chelsea purred, and she slowly closed her fingernails into his upper arms and
clamped her hot mouth on his neck, and she pounded herself against him until their
bodies shuddered and shook as they both came, screaming, in unison. "Im like,
starving!" Chelsea exclaimed, as she rolled onto her back, "Is there like, a restaurant…or
is somebody gonna make me dinner?"
Of course the island resort had a number of five-start restaurants, for casual as well as
elegant dining. That evening everybody was hungry, but nobody wanted to wait for a
gourmet meal, so they chose to eat at an outdoor restaurant where they could watch the
sun set over the ocean. After dinner, Deb and Genevieve took Jenny and Zack back to
the house, and Sam and Chelsea went for a walk on the beach. Chelsea held her sandals
in one hand, and Sams hand in the other, pressing her long nails into his skin. "I was
thinking," Sam said, "Id like to say my own wedding vows…in my own words, I mean.
Is that ok with you?" "Sure. Whatever," Chelsea said. "You dont have to make up your
own vows if you dont want to," Sam said. "No, thats cool, I will. As long as
everybody promises not to laugh at me. Im good with my hands," Chelsea said, raking
her nails over his crotch, "Words…not so much." "Some people are more verbal and
others are more physical," Sam mused. "Im like, totally physical. Youre like, both."
Chelsea said. Sam smiled, "I love how you express yourself. Youre direct, honest and
to the point." "Lets have sex in the ocean," Chelsea said, dropping her sandals,
unwrapping her skirt, and pulling her tee-shirt over her head. "See, thats what I mean,"
Sam chuckled, as Chelsea unbuttoned his shirt and combed her long fingernails through
his chest hair, and she lept onto him and wrapped her legs around him so he could carry
her into the warm surf.
By the time they got back to the house, Zack and Jenny were fast asleep, Deb was in her
room reading, and Genevieve was curled up on a lounge on the lanai in front of her
bedroom, watching a DVD on her laptop. Chelsea said to Sam, "I need another shower, I
have sand between my boobs and even under my toenails." "Well, at least I dont have
those problems," he chuckled. "But you still need a shower," Chelsea whispered, giving
him a sexy stare and walking her long fingernails up his arm. "I think Ill skip it," he
said. Chelsea narrowed her eyes and clutched his bicep with her nails. "Nuh uh," she
said, and she maintained her fingernails grip on him until she got him inside the
bathroom and locked the door behind them. Hearing the moans and screams of sex, Deb
poked her head out her bedroom door onto the lanai and said to Genevieve, "Is that racket
going to go on all night, you think? Im glad I put the kids in the farthest bedroom."
Genevieve paused her DVD and said, "Wait. Theyre still way off in the shower, not even
in their bedroom yet. And yes, it probably will go on most of the night. It does at
home…and this place is like an aphrodisiac." "I get the impression that air is an
aphrodisiac for Chelsea," Deb sighed. "It probably is, literally. After all, she never
wears panties," Genevieve said wryly. Deb laughed, "That was good. I guess to be close
friends with Chelsea it helps to have a slightly raunchy sense of humor." "Yeah,"
Genevieve said, "Among other things."
CHAPTER 9…
The next day was the day before the wedding, and Sam got up early and managed to
tiptoe out of the bedroom without waking Chelsea, and he went off to play a morning
round of golf, figuring to be back before she got up. But Deb and the kids were up by
nine, and the aroma of coffee and Deb frying potatos and eggs woke Genevieve and
Chelsea. Deb wanted to go to the spa and invited Genevieve and Chelsea to join her,
figuring they could drop the kids off at a supervised playground near the facilities.
"What would I possibly get done at the spa?" Chelsea laughed, "My skin is perfect, and
like, let some stranger at my fingernails and toenails? As if!" But Chelsea didnt want to
stay home alone, so she decided to go with them and check out the resort shops. They
called for transportation, and a few minutes the cart pulled up in front. Ian, the good-
looking Australian, was driving, dressed in his impeccable white linen suit. "Gday
ladies," he said cheerfully, helping them into the cart, "Oh, and gentleman," he added,
smiling at Zack. Genevieve had had her hair bundled and tied up when they arrived, but
now it was loose and down to her knees, shimmering in the tropical sun. He said to
Genevieve, "Your hair is quite remarkable, miss. Magnificent in fact, if I may be
permitted to say so." "You may be permitted to say so," Genevieve giggled, smiling
shyly and combing her long, dark-red nails idly through her radiant black hair. "Oh my
God, hes like, totally into you," Chelsea whispered to Genevieve. Genevieve rolled her
eyes. "Im serious. Hes so yours for the taking," Chelsea whispered. Genevieve looked
helplessly across at Deb, but Deb just nodded, "Even someone as out of the loop as me
can see that." "He probably flirts with all the girls…to get good tips or something,"
Genevieve whispered. "Maybe…but he didnt flirt with me or Chelsea," Deb whispered.
Genevieve sighed and whispered, "Hes way out of my league."
They stopped at the playground to let the kids off, and the playground supervisor, a
rotund young English nanny, came over to greet them. Deb winked at Chelsea and said,
"Chelsea, why dont we get the children situated, and let Genevieve go on ahead to the
spa." "I dont feel like walking," Chelsea said, remaining seated in the cart with
Genevieve and Ian. "Be careful with your nails," Chelsea said to Jenny as she
disembarked the cart. "Be careful indeed!" the portly English nanny gasped, "Those
could hurt someone!" "I meant, she should be careful she doesnt break one," Chelsea
said icily. "Dont worry," Zack said, "Ill protect her nails." "And I thought chivlary
was dead," the nanny quipped, aside to Deb. Chelsea responded, "Not for hot girls."
From there, Ian drove them to the Spa to drop off Deb and Genevieve. Chelsea grasped
them firmly by their arms and said in a cold, urgent way, "Dont let them make your
fingernails or toenails even a tiny bit shorter, or Ill be really, really upset. And you dont
want that, trust me." Genevieve and Deb looked at each other with alarm, and then they
both assured Chelsea that they would only get facials and massages. Chelsea smiled
sweetly and said, "Have a nice time!"
Ian drove Chelsea around the next bend and turned the cart full-circle in a clearing
between a thick stand of tall palm trees. "The shops are through there and down aways,"
Ian said to Chelsea, pointing toward a pathway between the palms. "It wont be any fun
shopping all by myself," Chelsea pouted, leaning back in the seat. "Well, Id offer my
assistance but Im afraid I know nothing on the subject," Ian said. "I dont believe you,"
Chelsea smiled, feeling the fabric of his white linen suit with the palm of her hand, "Your
suit is awesome…and your shirt…" She slipped her hand inside his jacket and caressed
his shirt. "Mmmm," Chelsea purred, "You work out!" And she gently squeezed his
rock-hard pec with her nails. Ian laughed politely, and gently ushered her hand out of his
jacket. "Im sorry, did I pinch too hard?" Chelsea began. "No…ah…," Ian started, but
Chelsea went on, "Sometimes I forget how sharp my nails are." "Oh…no, thats…," Ian
began, but she interrupted him again, "And long. My nails are soooo long. See?"
Chelsea modelled her fingers slowly in front of him. "Do you like my nails?" she asked
sweetly. "Uhh…yes, of course miss, theyre…," Ian said, beginning to get slightly
flustered. "Sexy?" Chelsea asked, smiling into his eyes. Ian smiled and laughed
nervously. "I really must be getting along," he said. Chelsea pouted, then she smiled and
said, "Know what I love?" "What, miss?" Ian asked politely. "I love the sound my nails
make on fabrics. Listen…," she said softly, scraping her one inch-long natural fingernails
slowly down the sleeve of his white linen jacket. Her pinkie nail just barely scratched the
back of his hand as she purred, "Isnt that hot?" Ian swallowed hard. "Know what else
sounds hot?" Chelsea asked. Ian just shook his head. Chelsea leaned and whispered in
his ear, "The sound my looonnnnng, sharp nails make on a guys beard." And at the
same time she reached up and gently scratched her fingernails down the side of his face,
and then scratched her thumbnail across his chin. Without him even realizing it, Chelsea
had turned his face toward him, and her lips were almost touching his. Ian began to say
something, but as soon as his lips parted, Chelseas warm, wet tongue wiped slowly
across them. "Y-youre getting married, miss," Ian stammered quietly. "Not till
tomorrow," Chelsea whispered, kissing him tenderly as she slipped her hand into his shirt
and she grasped his bare shoulder lightly with her fingernails. Ian squirmed, but Chelsea
pressed her nails in harder and engulfed his mouth with hers. Ian looked up for a second,
and the palm trees seemed to be spinning around him in circles, so he closed his eyes.
Ian was sweating and breathing hard, but he summoned all his willpower and grasped
Chelseas wrists and held her away from him. He took a deep breath and said, "Miss,
Ive been working here a while, and Ive seen a lot of people come here to get married.
Youre just having pre-wedding jitters. You dont really want this. Its just nerves. Cold
feet." "You think so, really?" Chelsea asked ingenuously. "Im sure of it," Ian said.
"Do my feet feel cold to you?" she asked sweetly, placing her hot, buttery-soft foot on
top of his hand. Startled, Ian pulled his hand away quickly, and as he did, Chelsea
clenched her toes. "Oww!" he gasped, looking at his knuckles, each of which had little
raw marks with pieces of skin that had been peeled back, that stung like fire and were
beginning to fill with blood. "Oh my God, Im like, soooo sorry!" Chelsea cried, "My
toenails are kinda long and sharp, too. See?" She pressed her heel into his thigh, which
made him look, and she spread her toes so he could see how long her bright red toenails
were. "Let me make it better," Chelsea said, taking his hand despite his weak protest,
and with her sultry hazel eyes staring up into his, she licked and sucked his bleeding
knuckles. She followed the hot, wetness of her mouth with the cooling sensation of her
breath as she blew across his knuckles. "Better?" she asked. Ian nodded. "My toes are
sorry," she said sweetly. Ian laughed uncomfortably. "They want to make it up to you,"
she said softly, resting her head against his chest, and she put her foot in his crotch and
began slowly rubbing the obvious hard bulge in his white linen pants. Ian gasped and
squirmed, but Chelsea took his face gently with her hand and stroked it with her one inch-
long fingernails and gave him another dizzying kiss. "Shhh," she whispered, "Just
relax." Ian sighed and she felt him give in to her, and she rested her head against his
chest again and resumed rubbing his crotch. Chelsea reached down and in a second
undid his belt, opened his zipper, and slipped her toes inside his boxers, grasping and
freeing his hard cock with her long, strong toes. Ian inhaled sharply, and Chelsea giggled
softly, "I know. My toes are amazing arent they?" She scratched his shaft lightly with
her toenails, and Ian gasped and flinched. "Careful, dont jerk," Chelsea said quietly,
"Remember how sharp they are." Chelsea continued slowly stroking his dick with her
velvet-soft toes and scraping it with her longish red toenails. As his moans grew
stronger, Chelsea would slow or stop her stroking until she felt his urge to cum abate, and
then she would resume. "Remember when we arrived and you said youd do anything I
wanted?" Chelsea asked with a smile. Ian panted and croaked, "Y-yeah." Chelsea said,
"Well, there are two itty, bitty little things I would like you to do. I know its probably
hard for you to speak right now, so just nod ok. Ok?" Ian nodded quickly. "Ok, the
first thing: You remember Genevieve? With the long black hair?" Ian nodded. "Well,
she thinks you werent serious when you were flirting with her. Were you?" Chelsea
asked, looking into his eyes. He looked away. "Oh, Ian. Im so disappointed in you.
Genevieves my BFF, and I get like, majorly pissed if someone messes with her,"
Chelsea said coldly, curling her sharp toenails into his shaft just a little too hard for
comfort as she stroked it, "So…you are serious about her, arent you Ian?" Ian felt
Chelseas sharp toenails on the tender, thin skin of his dick and thought of how easily
theyd ripped open the thick skin on his knuckles, and he nodded fast and coughed out a
hoarse, "Y-yes…v-very serious." "Excellent!" Chelsea said with a smile, "So, I can
depend on you to…um…satisfy her needs…for the rest of her stay?" With a defeated
expression on his face, Ian nodded again. "Dont look so glum," Chelsea said, "Every
guy Ive hooked her up with said shes incredible in bed." Ian smiled brightly. "Of
course they also mentioned that she scratches like a wild cat," Chelsea said with an evil
twinkle, delighting in the look of alarm that instantly replaced Ians smile.
"Ok, so heres the second and final thing I need you to do," Chelsea said, beckoning Ian
with her one inch-long fingernail to lower his head. She put her lips to his ear and licked
inside it, and she brought her other foot up into his lap, stroking his rock-hard cock
sensually between her feather-soft soles. Feeling him tense up and hold his breath,
Chelsea began scraping the length of his shaft lightly with her toenails, and she purred
softly, "I need you to cum as hard as you can, all over my hot, sexy feet." Ian gasped out
loud and instantly began shooting. Chelsea laughed excitedly, and continued stroking
him and milking him with her toes until he was completely soft. Smiling, she grasped her
ankles and brought both her feet up to her mouth, giving Ian a clear view up between her
panty-less spread legs. "Mmmmmm!" she moaned as she slowly licked and slurped and
sucked the cum from each of her toes. Ian was slumped back in his seat, drained and
exhausted, his shirt unbuttoned and his pants open. Tanatalized by Chelseas wet,
glistening pussy and the sight of her sucking her own toes, he was however unable to get
another erection yet, and he could only watch helplessly as Chelsea got out of the cart.
"I hope you have another suit," she giggled. Ian looked down and saw that the front of
his white linen jacket and pants were covered with splotches of his cum that had already
begun to soak in. "I mean, you wouldnt want to show up to Genevieve tonight wearing
that one," she said, "Ill tell her to expect you at eight. Ok?" Breathless, Ian nodded.
"Awesome," Chelsea smiled.
Chelsea met up with Deb and Chelsea at the spa. The first thing she did was examine
their hands and feet, to make sure their nails were untouched. "How were the facials?"
she asked, stroking each of their faces with her hands, "You feel nice and soft. But then
again, you always do." Chelsea licked her lips and bit her lower lip and said quietly, "I
know! Lets get a bottle of rum and the three of us go get wasted on the beach." "Oh, gee
Chelsea, as tempting as that sounds, I really dont want to be hung over tomorrow for the
wedding," Deb said. Grateful for Debs quick-thinking, Genevieve echoed her
sentiments. "Party poopers!" Chelsea pouted. "And that massage really took it out of
me," Deb added, "I feel like a little nap." "Mmmm, naps are nice," Chelsea winked at
her. Deb quickly said, "You know what? Im so exhausted, Im just going to lay out in
the shade by the pool here for a while. I can pick up the kids on my way back. Why
dont you two go on without me." "Hey, maybe Ill…," Genevieve started, but Chelsea
took Genevieve by the hand and said, "Ok, Deb, well see you later." As they walked
off, Genevieve said, "Chelsea, Im really sore after that massage, so…um…" "I totally
understand," Chelsea said. "Thanks Chels!" Genevieve said, surprised at Chelseas
considerate response. "Ill be gentle with you," Chelsea said, squeezing her hand lightly.
Genevieve sighed.
Back at the house, they left their shoes at the door and padded barefoot across the tile
floor, Chelsea still holding Genevieves hand. Genevieve plopped down on her back on
the bed, and Chelsea lay down next to her on her side, putting one knee across
Genevieves hips and making a long, serpentine tracing with her one inch-long fingernail
from Genevieves throat to her navel. Chelsea kissed Genevieves neck softly. "I cant
believe Im actually getting married tomorrow," she said. "It is mind-boggling,"
Genevieve said as she felt Chelseas hand go under her top and fondle her nipples with
her nails. Chelsea kissed her lips tenderly. "Sam wants me to make up my own wedding
vows," she said. "Want to show me what youve written?" Genevieve asked. "Im
supposed to write something?" Chelsea asked, nibbling on Genevieves ear. "Thats
what people usually do isnt it?" Genevieve asked. "How am I supposed to know?"
Chelsea said, "I figured I would just like, wing it. Make them up as I go." "I dont know
if thats such a good idea, Chels," Genevieve said, "Sometimes you kind of…uhhh…get
carried away in the moment." Chelsea giggled, and said facetiously, "Whatever do you
mean?" as she reached into Genevieves panties and began playing her long nails around
Genevieves pussy. Genevieve ushered Chelseas hand out, and closed her legs tight
together. Chelsea smiled and whispered, "I like it when you tease me." "Just remember
to keep it G-rated," Genevieve said. "Whats G-rated sex?" Chelsea asked. "No, I
meant, your wedding vows," Genevieve sighed, "Remember, there will be two eight
year-olds present." "Crap!" Chelsea said, "There goes like, ninety percent of what I was
gonna say."
Chelsea gave Genevieve a sly look, and she turned so her head was at Genevieves feet.
"You have such cute little feet," Chelsea said, and she held one gently and wrapped her
lips around her heel and gave it a long, sucking kiss. "So soft," Chelsea purred, making
another long, wet kiss in the middle of her sole. "And salty," she whispered, licking the
fleshy part near her toes, and then biting it gently. She darted her tongue between
Genevieves toes and kissed the tips of each one. Chelsea reached up and raked her
fingernails slowly from Genevieves knee down to her ankle. Genevieves eyes were
closed and she was breathing deeply. Chelsea put her foot on Genevieves chest and
lightly fondled her little breasts with her longish red toenails, then she stretched her leg
out and put her toes on Genevieves lips. "Do my toes…pretty please?" Chelsea asked
sweetly. Chelsea watched Genevieves beautiful, slender long dark-red nails as she
grasped her feet gently, and after only a few seconds of feeling her toes inside
Genevieves hot mouth, Chelsea moaned, "Oh God, Genevieve. You get me so hot!" and
she crawled like a reptile on top of Genevieve and smothered her in urgent, forceful
kisses, driving her tongue deep down into Genevieves mouth while she slid her long
nails into Genevieves pussy, and Genevieve reciprocated. Slowly and sensually they
scratched each others bodies, intertwining their arms and legs, kissing and licking and
sucking, and driving each other to stronger and stronger orgasms with their long, natural
fingernails. "I got you a date for tonight," Chelsea said, lying on her back, covered with
sweat droplets, basking in the satisfied afterglow of sex. Genevieve opened her eyes,
"What? With who?" she asked. "Ian," Chelsea said, "How did…Oh my God, you slept
with him!" Genevieve cried. "No!" Chelsea exclaimed indignantly, "God! You act like
Im a total slut! All I did was give him a footjob. Although, it was an amazing footjob.
He like, totally came all over himself. It was awesome."
CHAPTER 10…
That evening Deb was still tired, and she decided to stay in and make a light dinner for
the children, and announced that she would probably go to bed as soon as shed tucked
the kids in. Genevieve left with Ian around seven forty-five, confident she wouldnt be
back until morning. Ian dropped off a little envelope with a certificate for a
complimentary congratulatory dinner at The Casbah, the most exclusive of the islands
restaurants. Chelsea put on a very short, very tight, very low-cut black dress, and a pair
of shiny black leather strappy sandals with six-inch heels…and nothing else. She laid out
the clothes she wanted Sam to wear: a black dinner jacket, white chinos, and a pair of
Italian loafers. No shirt, no socks, and no underwear. "I have to wear underwear," Sam
pleaded. Chelsea pouted, but then she said, "Oh, alright. The black silk boxers then."
They arrived at The Casbah restaurant around nine. It was dark inside. Very dark. There
were no open tables, only a maze of high-walled booths with doors. A maitre-d wearing
a red velvet fez with a gold brocade tassel showed them to their booth, and they went
inside. At the entrance was a small step up, and they saw that everyone had left their
shoes in front of the doors, so Sam and Chelsea did likewise. Inside the booth was a low,
round table. There were no chairs, only large overstuffed pillows. Moroccan music
played softly, the lilting sound of a wooden flute and the rythmic, sensual beat of a
tambourine filling their heads, while the aroma of exotic spices wafted in the air. "The
menu is fixed," the maitre-d said, opening a bottle of cognac that he carried on a silver
tray with two small glasses. "The waiter will bring everything at once, then you will not
be disturbed. The booths are quite soundproof, I assure you. Should you wish
anything…simply pull that cord. " he said, gesturing to braided gold rope hanging from
the ceiling at one corner of the booth. "You may stay as long as you wish…breakfast
tomorrow is included," the maitre-d said, bowing graciously as he backed out of the
booth, "Bon appetit, and bonsoir." In a few moments the waiter brought a large tray
filled with Moroccan delicacies, comprising a complete feast from appetizer to dessert.
An assistant brought a small table with a large brass pot of Turkish coffee resting on a
platform, beneath which was a small heating candle that he proceeded to light, and then
Sam and Chelsea were alone. Sam poured two glasses of cognac and offered one to
Chelsea. The sight of her perfect one inch-long unpolished natural fingernails wrapped
around the slender glass made Sam inhale quickly, and Chelsea clicked them on the glass
and extended her pinkie as she brought the glass to her full, tender lips. "To you," Sam
said softly. "Thanks," Chelsea said, keeping Sams gaze fixed on her smoky, sultry hazel
eyes as she took a sip and licked her tongue around the rim. "To us," Sam said, raising
his glass again. "Yes," she repeated, and as she put her glass down she slid close to Sam
and put her hand inside his jacket, running her fingers through his chest hair and raking
him gently with her incredible long fingernails. Her eyes boring a fiery stare into his, she
slowly pushed him down on his back and engulfed his lips with hers. "Arent you
hungry?" Sam asked, his head spinning from Chelseas relentless kisses. "Ive never
been this hungry," she panted, flinging her tiny black dress up and off, tearing at his
clothes. "Oh my God, you so have to stop wearing underwear!" she gasped, clawing his
silk boxers down his thighs and working them the rest of the way down and off with her
feet. Sam sat up, trying to turn Chelsea on her back, but she screamed, "No!" and she
straddled him on her knees and pinned his shoulders to the large pillow, digging her long
fingernails into his shoulders. "I have to be on top," she said. Her silky long brown hair
brushing his chest, Chelsea lowered her mouth to his and drowned his senses in her
dizzying kiss, dragging her long fingernails slowly down his arms. Sam clenched his
teeth and groaned as the sting of her sharp nails shot to his brain. Chelsea sat on his
stomach with her knees under his armpits, and he felt her stroke his hard cock between
the warm, velvet-soft soles of her feet. She fondled his balls with her toes, then slowly
scratched her toenails down first one of his thighs, and then the other. Chelsea reached
over to the fruit bowl and impaled a grape with one of her one inch-long natural fingernails,
then she took it gently in her teeth, enveloped it with her lips, and sucked it off her nail,
then after she swallowed the grape, she licked and sucked her nail clean. "Would you
like a grape?" she asked Sam. "Y-yes!" he gasped. Chelsea smiled and impaled another
grape with her long fingernail and brought it to Sams lips. He opened his mouth and she
touched the grape to his tongue, but withdrew it before he could close his lips around it.
"N-no! Oh God, Chelsea, please dont tease me!" he croaked hoarsely. "Aww, ok," she
said, and this time she let him suck the grape off her long nail. "How about an olive?"
she asked, poking the pimento out with her nail as she offered it to him. Sam gobbled it
off her nail ravenously. "Date?" she asked sweetly, stabbing a date with her one inch-long
thumbnail. Sam nodded. He gaped as she inserted the date into her pussy and smiled at
him and said, "Help yourself, lover." Sam reached for her pussy but she playfully
slapped his hand, and she kneeled over his face and lowered herself to his mouth.
Chelsea moaned and squealed and orgasmed as Sam fished the date out with his tongue.
"I never knew we both like dates," she giggled, "Remind me to get some back home…we
can keep them in the bedroom for midnight snacking." Chelsea languidly changed
position so her head was resting on Sams legs. She grasped his cockhead lightly with
the tips of her long fingernails and pulled gently, then she stroked the edge of her pinkie
nail down the underside of his shaft and pressed her thumbnail into the front. "Speaking
of snacking," she said with a sultry look, and she extended her foot to his mouth, "Have
some toes. I hear theyre an aphrodisiac." "For who?" Sam asked with a grin. Chelsea
looked around the little booth and back at Sam. "Me. Who else?" she said, perplexed.
Sam kissed and sucked Chelseas perfect toes, and she moaned contentedly. "Feel my
toenails with your tongue, it like, totally blows my mind," she panted, and soon she was
skyrocketing to an orgasm. "Oww!" Sam cried as she clenched her toes inside his mouth.
"Sorry, did I scratch you?" she asked. "Im ok, I think," he said. Chelsea brought her
face near his rigid cock and very slowly extended her tongue, and ran just the very tip
around the rim of his cockhead with a feather-light touch. "You have a gorgeous cock,"
she said in a lusty half-whisper. "T-thanks," Sam gasped, as she ran the tip of her tongue
around the rim again, so lightly he could barely feel it, and yet it was mind-blowing.
"Did you notice Ive never sucked you off?" Chelsea asked. "Well, since you mention
it…," Sam began. Chelsea nuzzled his rock-hard cock with her cheek, and gave his
peehole a soft kiss, and said, "Why didnt you ever ask me to give you a blowjob?" "I
dont know," Sam said. "I do," Chelsea said, "Its because its so much more exciting for
you not to know what Im gonna do next." Sam said to Chelsea, "So, um, if I wouldve
ever asked you for a blowjob…," "Id of said no," she answered sweetly, and she
started placing wet, firm kisses along his dick, licking it all over with her tongue, and
then she took him deep in her mouth and sucked with incredible force, slowly working
him with her tongue and lips. "Ohhhh mother of God!" Sam cried, "Fuck! Ohhhh God,
Ohhhh Christ Jesus!" Chelsea reached up and raked her one inch-long fingernails firmly
down his belly, then she fondled his balls and scratched her nails down his thighs. Sam
felt like he imagined it would feel to have his dick caught in a ShopVac, so great was the
suction in Chelseas hot mouth. "Aaaagh! Shit!" Sam cried when Chelsea reached up
and clawed her fingernails down his ribs. Feeling him on the brink of cumming, Chelsea
suddenly lifted her head and let his throbbing cock pop out of her mouth. "Tell me again
how much you love me," she said, staring intently into his eyes. "I…I…Oh Jesus,
Chelsea…I love you like nobodys ever loved anybody before," he cried, his wet dick
feeling cold in the air, and longing to be back inside Chelseas hot mouth. "Aww, thats
really sweet," she said, and she went down on him again and in a couple seconds he came
like an explosion. Chelsea squealed with delight as she swallowed repeatedly, continuing
to suck and milk his cock until it was completely soft, and then she withdrew her mouth
and laid his limp dick gently against his leg. "See…lots nicer when you dont know its
gonna happen, isnt it?" she smiled. "Youre amazing," Sam wheezed. Chelsea gently
caressed his belly with her one inch-long fingernails and sat up, tossing her back her long
brown hair and wiping the sweat from her firm, perky breasts with a napkin. "Im
starving!" she exclaimed, and she reached over and plucked a handful of stuffed grape
leaves from the tray and began devouring them. "Mmmm, these are like, to die for!" she
gushed, then as she licked the juice from her long, lovely natural fingernails, she gave his
limp cock a little tweak and giggled, "Or maybe its your special sauce."
Sam slid over nearer the food tray, and he and Chelsea leaned back and fed things to each
other. They had little cups of strong, sweet Turkish coffee and some dessert made with
nuts, honey and rosewater, and then they shared another glass of cognac. Chelsea stroked
Sams cheek with her long fingernails and pulled him into a dizzying kiss. Raking his
back gently with her nails, Chelsea wrapped her legs around Sam, stroked the back of his
thighs with her velvet-soft soles and scratched with her longish red toenails as she pulled
him on top of her and guided his hard cock into her slippery hot pussy. "I thought you
had to be on top," Sam reminded her. "Except when I want you on top," she answered,
and she snaked her tongue inside his mouth and dug all twenty nails into him as he
pumped against her. The food tray was nearly depleted by around midnight. Chelsea
would not have needed to watch what she ate anyway, because she ran and worked out
daily, but in fact she had to eat surprisingly a lot just to maintain her perfect figure
because of the thousands of calories she burned having vigorous sex multiple times every
day. Chelsea was on top of Sam, gyrating her pelvis, clutching his chest with her one inch-
long natural fingernails, when the door opened. The waiter gasped in shock and cried, "A
thousand pardons!" covering his eyes and turning his head, and he started to leave.
"Ooops! My bad," Chelsea giggled, continuing to ride Sams cock, "I mustve pulled the
cord by accident. But anyway, could you bring us another tray?" The red-faced waiter,
still covering his eyes, said, "Of course," and he quickly exited. Chelsea continued
undulating her body against his, knowing that at this point she could make Sam last for
hours while she took unhurried pleasure in bringing herself slowly and luxuriously to one
orgasm after another, each one exploding like a starburst and lasting for minutes on end.
The waiter knocked on the door and Chelseas cheeful "Come in!" drowned out Sams
gasp of, "Wait!" Carrying the heavy tray with both hands, the waiter couldnt cover his
eyes, but he looked away as he brought the tray inside. "Ill be but a second," he said
quickly, his face beet red. "Take your time," Chelsea said sweetly. "F-fresh coffee?" the
waiter stammered. "Ohhhhhhhh, God, yessssssssss!" Chelsea cried. "Very good
maam," the waiter said, looking away at the ceiling. "Huh? What? Im sorry…what
did you ask me? I was…um…distracted," Chelsea giggled. "C-coffee," the waiter
gulped, perspiring, "I enquired if you would care for some fresh coffee." "Sure," Chelsea
said, "Were like, planning to be up all night anyway." The waiter refilled their brass
coffee pot, and picked up the empty tray and turned quickly to leave. "Excuse me!"
Chelsea cried, and the waiter turned around instinctively. Chelsea sat up straight,
strutting her luscious, perky breasts, and combing her long brown hair off her face with
her long, sexy fingernails. "Y-yes maam?" the embarrassed waiter sighed, unable to
avert his eyes. Chelsea touched a long nail to her lips in a coquettish gesture of
innocence. "Thank you," she said sweetly.
After she finally let Sam cum that time, she said, "I have to find the little girls room,"
and she slipped her skimpy black cocktail dress over her head and put her sexy feet into
her six-inch strappy sandals and went out the door. As she navigated the dark,
labrynthine array of private booths, one of the doors opened and a young man in khakis
and an open white shirt poked his head out. "Oh, Im sorry," he whispered, "I thought
you were my fiancee. She wasnt feeling well…Say, can you do me a favor and check on
her in the ladies room?" "Sure," Chelsea said. Inside the ladies room Chelsea noticed a
young woman curled up on the little couch. "Your fiance asked me to check on you,"
Chelsea said. The young woman shook her head, "Tell him Im fine but I might be in
here a while. I think I ate one too many dates, if you know what I mean." She combed
one hand through her hair while she gnawed and nibbled on her other fingertips. Chelsea
noticed her nails were bitten-to-nothing nubs. The woman noticed Chelseas ten perfect,
one inch-long clear natural nails and gasped, "Oh my gosh, I wish I had nails like yours."
"You mean like, to eat?" Chelsea asked with alarm. "No, I…," the woman began, than
she gasped, "Hold that thought," and she dashed into a stall. "Oh my gosh I hope Im ok
by tomorrow," she shouted from the stall, "Were getting married." "Really? Us too!"
Chelsea shouted back. "Wow! They said there was another wedding tomorrow, but I
didnt think wed meet. This is a pretty private place," the woman said. "Hey, well
have the same anniversary," Chelsea remarked. "Wow, yeah! Well, if I dont see you,
congratulations," the woman said. "Yeah, you too," Chelsea said as she washed her
hands and left.
Chelsea knocked softly on the door to the booth where shed met the young man. "Did
you see my fiancee?" he asked. "Uh huh. Shes ok, shes just…um…got the runs a little.
Shes gonna be a while though," Chelsea said. "Sheesh, I hope shes ok by
tomorrow…its our wedding day," he said. "Yeah, she said. Its my wedding tomorrow
too," Chelsea said. "Oh, wow, congratulations," he said. She smiled warmly and held
out her hand, "Hi, Im Chelsea." "Hi Chelsea, Im Lucas," he said, taking her hand.
Chelsea saw the familiar look of surprise as he noticed her nails. "Do you like my nails?"
she asked, slowly blinking her long lashes and gazing at him with her sultry hazel eyes.
"Theyre…," he started. "Different than your fiancees?" she suggested, coming into the
booth. "She…," he began. Chelsea finished his thought, "Bites her nails. I know. I saw.
Eww." "It is sort of gross, but I love her," Lucas said, then added, "Uh…come in, have a
seat," as he noticed that Chelsea was already inside the booth, and had slipped off her
shoes and was sitting on a pillow, patting the adjacent one for him to sit. "Mind if I keep
you company till your fiancee comes? My fiancee is asleep, and Im…not," Chelsea
smiled.
Chelsea plucked a grape from Lucas tray and licked and sucked it with her lips. "Would
you like a grape?" she asked, rolling it around in her mouth. "Ok, sure," Lucas said.
Chelsea put her pinkie into her mouth and withdrew it slowly, with her one inch-long nail
stabbed completely through the grape, and she brought it to Lucas mouth. "Here you
go," she said, looking deep into his eyes, licking her tongue slowly all around her parted
lips. He mustered the beginnings of a protest, but when he felt the tip of Chelseas long
fingernail lightly poke his lip, his mouth opened obediently and she placed the grape on
his tongue. He closed his lips and she withdrew her nail from the grape, gently
scratching her one inch-long nail slowly against his tongue and lips as she withdrew her
finger from his mouth. Chelsea asked, "So tell me, Lucas, whats sex like with a girl
with no nails?" "Look, um, Chelsea…," Lucas said, looking at his watch. Chelsea said,
"Im sorry, I wasnt trying to be mean…Im just curious, because like, I cant imagine
having sex without using my loooonnng, incredible nails." Lucas swallowed hard, and
Chelsea could see that he was perspiring and his pupils were huge, even considering how
dark it was inside the romantic little private booth. "D-dont you t-think y-you should get
back to your f-fiance?" he stammered. "Ok. Oh…I almost forgot! Your fiancee said I
should give you a hug for her," Chelsea said sweetly, getting up on her knees and
embracing him. She felt his heart start to pound when she pressed her one inch-long nails
into his back through his thin shirt, and dragged them slowly across his back. "And a
kiss," she whispered, quickly tracing her lips from his ear to his mouth and drowning him
in her warm-honey kiss, leaning him down into the pillow and working his hard cock free
as her dizzying kiss smothered his conscience and drained the last drop of his resistance.
Chelsea straddled him, and as he felt her steaming-hot pussy swallow his throbbing cock
she raked her one inch-long fingernails slowly down his body and repeated in a sexy purr, "I
cant imagine having sex without using my loooonnng, incredible nails."
At eight in the morning their waiter came by with yogurt and fruit and fresh coffee for
breakfast. When he knocked on the door and heard Chelsea say, "Come in," he asked,
"Are you sure?" When she said yes, he opened the door quickly, gasping loudly when he
saw they were still naked and still engaged in vigorous sex. Sam was seated on the
pillows with his back to the door, with Chelseas arms and legs wrapped around him,
clutching him with her fingernails and toenails, grinding herself against him. She
released Sams neck from the suction of her lips with a pop and a slurp, and she smiled at
the waiter and said, "Mmmmm, Im like, starving!" Pointing her red-polished toes at the
other side of the booth, she said, "Just leave it over there, Im like, almost done," and she
resumed sucking on Sams neck. As they left the restaurant, the entire wait staff gave
them a standing ovation, and the maitre-d bowed low to Chelsea and said, "On behalf of
the management of The Casbah, it is my pleasure to present you with a lifetime free
certificate. Please come back and join us again as often as you like." "Awesome!" she
smiled, "Oh, we will! Were staying another two weeks. Oh my God! Honey, we should
totally come back every year for our anniversary!"
CHAPTER 11…
By the time they got back to the house, Deb had fed the kids breakfast and she was
outside with them romping in the waves. Chelsea noticed that Genevieves shoes were
by the door, so she knew she was home. Sam went to take a shower, and Chelsea said,
"Im going to talk to Genevieve. If youre still in the shower when I get there, Ill wash
your…well, let it be a surprise." Sam could hardly walk after the previous night, but he
hurried to the shower, hoping to be done and out before Chelsea finished with Genevieve.
"So! Tell me all about your night with Ian, and dont leave anything out," Chelsea
exclaimed, bursting into Genevieves room and bouncing on her bed. Genevieve yawned
and said, "Ok, well…" Chelsea interrupted her, "Oh my God! I have to tell you about
where we went for dinner last night, so, me first." And Chelsea proceeded to give
Genevieve a play-by-play synopsis of the foregoing nights activities, including her
middle-of-the-night tryst with the young man who was also to be married today, and the
honor bestowed upon her by the wait staff for her "awesomeness". "Ok, now you go,"
Chelsea said. Genevieve began, "Ok, well…" Chelsea interrupted her again, "Wait."
And she pulled her skimpy little black cocktail dress over her head and smelled her
armpits, smiled and crawled under the covers with Genevieve. She placed Genevieves
hand on her mound, and her hand on Genevieves, resting her long nails lightly against
Genevieves little bud. Chelsea exhaled and said, "Im ready. Remember, I want every
tiny detail." Genevieve began, "Ok, well, first he had this really nice candle-lit dinner
served for just us on the beach…there wass champagne and oysters and…" "Ok, you
know what?" Chelsea said, ushering Genevieves long nails further into her pussy, "Why
dont you skip to the part when you start having sex. Was he awesome?" Genevieve
sighed and rolled her eyes, and she displayed her free hand for Chelsea to see. "Oh my
God! You mustve scratched him to shreds!" Chelsea moaned, observing that the dark-
red polish was all chipped off along the tips of Genevieves long, slender, tapered
fingernails, "Thats like, sooooo hot!" And she grasped Genevieves other hand away
from her pussy and looked at the chipped polish for a moment, before sucking
Genevieves fingers and putting her hand back on her mound and panting, "Do me while
you tell me the story."
When Chelsea got to her own bedroom, Sam was putting on shorts and a tee-shirt.
Chelsea said, "The ceremonys at sunset. I thought we could like, go down to the ocean
and…you know. And then come back here and…you know. And so on until its time.
Where are you going?" "This time its my turn to surprise you. Take a fast shower and
put some shorts on," Sam said. "Come help me with the shower," she said enticingly.
"We dont have time," Sam insisted. "I can get off in like, ten seconds if I want to, and
then get you off in another five," she giggled, pushing him down on the bed and freeing
his cock. True to her word, she straddled him and climaxed almost instantly, then she
stroked his cheeks with her one inch-long nails and gave him a sweet, wet, deep kiss and he
felt her pussy constrict around his cock and she undulated her pelvis rapidly and although
he tried to stop himself, he came in a couple of seconds. "Ill be ready in a minute," she
said, trailing her nails down his exhausted body as she got up and walked to the shower,
swaying her perfect ass.
A native boy was waiting out front with a golf cart when Sam and Chelsea left the house.
"The landing dock," Sam said to him, and the boy unlocked the brake and the cart
hummed and lurched forward. Chelsea looked at Sam intrigued. "Oh my God, are you
like, taking me up in a plane so we can have sex?" she asked excitedly. "Uh…no," he
said. Chelsea folded her arms and pouted, then she smiled and said, "Lets do that next
week one day, ok?" "Well see," Sam said. "Whats the surprise?" Chelsea cried, "Tell
me!" "It wont be a surprise if I tell you," Sam said. "I can make you tell me," Chelsea
said quietly, stroking her long nails up from his knee and then turned her hand and slid
them under the leg of his shorts and boxers. "Why ruin the susprise for yourself?" he
asked. "Youre right," she said, gently scraping his cock with the tips of her one inch-long
nails, and then she withdrew her hand and rested her head on his shoulder.
At the dock they waited for a few moments, then they heard the sound of the seaplane in
the distance, growing louder as it came into sight and touched down on its pontoons and
taxied to the dock. The native driver helped the pilot tie the plane to the dock and unload
a small leather satchel. A tall figure bent to fit himself through the small door of the
plane as the boy helped him step onto the dock, then the man stood up and smiled. He
was tall and muscular, with salt-and-pepper hair and chiseled features and penetrating
hazel eyes. "Daddy?" Chelsea said softly, and she looked at Sam with incredulity. Sam
flashed a big smile, and Chelseas eyes brightened and she screamed, "Daddy!" and she
got out of the cart and started jumping up and down shouting, "Daddy! Oh my God! Oh
my God!" and she ran to him and jumped into his arms and started showering him with
kisses and she burst into tears. "Sterling Larson," he said, extending his free hand while
he embraced his sobbing daughter, "You must be Sam." "Im so glad to meet you Mr.
Larson," Sam said with a firm handshake. "Call me Sterling," he said, "Well, for a few
more hours anyway. Then I guess you can call me Dad." "Sam! How long have you
known he was coming?" Chelsea sniffled, wiping her tears with the backs of her hands.
"Lets see…when did I book the island?" Sam answered. Chelsea swatted him on the
arm with pretend anger. "Oh my God, I cant wait for you to meet Jenny!" Chelsea cried,
holding her fathers arm and resting her head against him, "Shell like, totally remind you
of me when I was eight. Shes awesome. Oh Daddy, I love her so much!" "I cant
wait," he said, "Im still trying to get my head around my little girl being somebodys
stepmother." "Dont anybody ever call me that!" Chelsea snapped, then she smiled,
"Jenny wants to call me Mommy after the wedding." "Well I cant speak for
strangers," Sam said, "But I promise Ill never refer to you as a stepmother. It does have
a kind of bad connotation…from Cinderella, probably." Chelseas father laughed, "Good
point. I wont use the term for you either." "Good," Chelsea said, and she giggled, "And
so I wont call you step-grampa." Chelsea hooked one hand through her fathers arm
and the other through Sams and when they got to the cart, Chelsea whispered to Sam,
"Thank you," and she took his face in her hands and gave him a long, fiery-hot tongue-
kiss, scratching her long nails sensuously down his cheeks and moaning softly. Her
father cleared his throat loudly and Chelsea giggled and sat down.
They pulled up to the house, and the boy carried Sterling Larsons bag inside, and he
tipped him. "Everybody! Come here, now! This instant! Oh my God! You have to
come!" Chelsea screamed. Genevieve and Zack came running first. "What is it?"
Genevieve cried, "Whats wrong?" "Nothings wrong! Everythings like, totally right,"
Chelsea smiled, putting her arm around her father. "You have to be Genevieve," he said,
"I recognize you from your hair. Its beautiful. Ive heard all about you." "All?"
Genevieve repeated, casting a nervous glance at Chelsea. "Of course! Youre
Chelseas…let me see if I remember the expression…BFF?" he said. Genevieve exhaled
and smiled, "Im so happy to meet you." "The pleasure is entirely mine," Sterling said,
bringing her delicate hand to his lips. She saw him stare at her fingertips, and Genevieve
giggled, "Sorry. My nails dont ususally look this raggedy. Im going to redo them
before the ceremony." Chelseas dad was still holding Genevieves hand and gazing at
her fingers, and she tugged lightly for him to let go. "This is Zack. Hes our neighbors
son, and Jennys best friend," Genevieve said, attempting to ease the awkward moment.
"Hello, Zack! Im Chelseas dad," he said, shaking the little boys hand. "Are you here
for the wedding?" Zack asked. "I sure am!" he said, then he turned to the others and said,
"I must say, I was floored when you told me you were getting married, Chelsea. I mean,
youve always been so shy and studious, and never really even dated that much." Sam
looked at Chelsea and smiled, and Genevieve avoided looking at anybody.
Deb then walked out, toweling her hair dry. "Chelsea? I heard you yelling. Is
everything ok?" she asked. "Everythings awesome!" Chelsea exclaimed, "Deb, I want
you to meet my dad." "Sterling Larson," he said, taking Debs hand and kissing it as
hed done to Genevieves. Deb put her towel behind her back and waved it at Genevieve,
who snatched it from her, and she touched her hair with her free hand and giggled, "I
must look a mess, I just got out of the shower, and…," "The shower? You look like an
angel who just floated down from heaven," Sterling said. Genevieve and Chelsea rolled
their eyes at the lameness of that line, and then again when Deb blushed and giggled like
a schoolgirl. "So…youre here to give Chelsea away?" Deb asked, stating the obvious
for lack of better small-talk. "Unless its legal on this island to sell her," he joked, and
Deb giggled again. Genevieve and Chelsea looked at each other Chelsea made the
finger-down-the-throat-to-make-myself-gag gesture. "You can take my room and I can
bunk with Genevieve," Deb said to Chelseas dad, "Ill show you where it is."
"Oh my God, Deb just invited herself to share my bed without even asking," Genevieve
whispered to Chelsea. "Thats totally hot," Chelsea whispered back, giving Genevieve a
sexy look. "Shut up!" Genevieve whispered, "Thats not funny." "Oh my God does
everything always have to be about you?" Chelsea whispered. Genevieves jaw dropped
and she was speechless. "Whats so not funny is my dad hitting on Deb…and like, it was
totally working!" Chelsea said. "Come on, Chelsea, theyre perfect for each other.
Wouldnt you love for Deb to be your stepmother?" Genevieve teased. "Take it back!"
Chelsea said, grabbing Genevieves arm with her sharp fingernails. "Oww! Ok, ok, I
take it back!" Genevieve cried, rubbing the red indentations from Chelseas nails. "Im
sorry sweetie," Chelsea said, kissing Genevieves wounds, "Its just that, like, hes my
dad, and Debs like…um, a close friend." "Oh my God, Chelsea. How close?"
Genevieve asked suspiciously. Chelsea batted her eyes sheepishly, "Like, really close."
"Oh my God," Genevieve sighed, closing her eyes. "I mean, having sex with my dads
girlfriend…or wife…would be a little weird," Chelsea said. "Ya think?!" Genevieve
cried. "So then you see my dilemma," Chelsea said. "Not really," Genevieve said,
"Youve got Sam. Youve got me. Youve got…pretty much anybody you set your
sights on." "Pretty much?!" Chelsea said indignantly. Chelsea rolled her eyes, "Ok,
everybody." Chelsea smiled contentedly, then she said, "Ok, so…your point?"
Genevieve said, "My point is that for as long as Ive known you youve been telling me
how unhappy your dads been, and how hes always alone, et cetera et cetera. So if he
likes Deb and she likes him back, why not just be happy for him?" "Because shes hot,
and I saw her first," Chelsea pouted, admiring her ten perfect one inch-long nails. "What are
you two gossping about?" Sam asked with a grin. "None of your business," Chelsea said
petulantly, "Its girl-talk…between me and my BFF." And she put her arm around
Genevieve and kissed her quickly on the lips. "Did that get you hot?" Chelsea asked
Sam. Sam frowned, "That reminded me…what was that crap your dad was saying about
you being shy and not dating much?" "Crap? Oh my God!" Chelsea cried, "You like,
totally think Im some kind of slut, dont you?" "No! No! Of course not!" Sam
exclaimed, realizing hed put his foot in his mouth big-time. "Chelsea, please dont cry!
I dont care how many guys youve slept with," he pleaded. "Oh my God! How many
guys do you think Ive been with? Hundreds?" Chelsea sobbed, tears flowing like rivers
from her hazel eyes. Sam took Chelsea by the shoulders and wiped her tears and kissed
her and said, "Chelsea, Im so sorry. It came out all wrong. Tell me how to make it right
again." "Tell me you dont think Im a slut," she whimpered, sniffling and wiping the
tears that continued to pour from her eyes. Sam said urgently, "I dont think youre a
slut. In a few hours youre going to be my wife, and the mother of my daughter. Of
course I dont think youre a slut. I know youre not a slut." "Thank you," Chelsea
sniffled meekly. Sam kissed her on the forehead and went to the bedroom. Chelsea, who
was already dry-eyed, winked at Genevieve and blew her a kiss. Genevieve just shook
her head in disbelief.
Sam wanted to take a nap but Chelsea wasnt tired, and she tossed around on the bed,
stroking his legs with her soft feet and ruffling his hair with her long fingernails. "I know
the reason you kept my dads coming a secret until the last minute was just in case he
didnt show," Chelsea said. Sam tried to protest, but she put a long nail up to his lips.
"Shhh," she whispered, giving him a long, tender kiss, "Thanks." "I love you so much,"
Sam said. "I know," Chelsea said. She traced her long, clear fingernail around the rim of
his ear and whispered, "Wanna have sex?" Sam looked at her plaintively and started to
say something, but she kissed his lips and whispered, "It was a rhetorical question," as
she slid her hand into his boxers and freed his cock.
Everyone else had retired to their bedrooms for a pre-wedding nap, except Chelseas
father, who had slept en-route. He had changed into shorts and flip-flops and a tropical
shirt and sat on the couch with his feet up reading the copy of The Wall Street Journal
that hed bought at the Honolulu airport. "Who are you?" a little voice said from behind
the couch, startling him. He turned his head and said, "Im Sterling." "Thats a funny
name," Jenny giggled. "I know," he said, "Dont tell me…you must be Jenny." "How
did you know?" she asked. "My daughter said that you were very beautiful and had
pretty blond hair," he said. "Whos your daughter?" Jenny asked. "Chelsea is my
daughter," he said. "Chelsea said I can call her mommy," Jenny said. "Yes, she told
me. Thats very nice," he said. "If you want I could call you grampa," she said, "I dont
have another grampa…so nobody would get confused." "Id like that very much," he
said. "Ok. But we have to wait till after the wedding. Deal?" Jenny said. "Deal," he
said, thinking Jenny was just too cute for words. Suddenly she came around the front of
the couch and climbed up next to him on her knees. "Do you like my nails?" she asked
sweetly, holding her hands in front of him. He almost jumped backwards off the couch
when he saw her little fingers with tapered, manicured nails that were at least a half-inch
long. "Dont be scared," Jenny said, "I wont scratch you. I like you. And plus I might
break one." Sterling swallowed hard, "Im not scared…just…uh…surprised. I wasnt
expecting…" "Lots of people are surprised. Some mean people even say Im too young
to have such long fingernails," Jenny said, modelling and admiring them. "D-doesnt
your d-dad think youre too young?" he asked. "He didnt want me to grow them but
Chelsea made him let me," Jenny said. "Hmmph," he said. "Chelsea said she had really
long nails when she was little," Jenny said. "Yes, she did," Sterling said wistfully.
"Chelsea said you liked her long nails," Jenny said. "Well, I…," he began. "Chelsea
said you liked it when she did this," Jenny said, gently scratching his arm with her long
nails. He nodded and smiled through clenched teeth. "Chelsea does my nails every
week," Jenny continued, "She does my toenails too. See? Do you like my pedicure?"
Jenny lifted her foot and wiggled her red-painted toes with their slightly-long toenails.
"Mmm hmm…very nice," he squeaked quickly, in a high-pitched voice that made Jenny
laugh. "You need a shave," she giggled, scratching her long fingernails against his
stubble, listening to the sound. "Ok. Ill go shave right now," he said, his voice
cracking. "You dont have to," Jenny said, "Zack likes me to scratch his tummy. Do you
want me to scratch yours?" And without waiting for a reply she slipped her little hand
between the buttons of his shirt and began lightly scratching his stomach in circles.
"See? Im really careful not to scratch hard, because my nails are really sharp and they
could make you bleed," she said proudly.
"I see you and Jenny are getting acquainted," Chelsea said, startling her father, who was
already shaking, and she sat down next to him. "Did I ever mention in my e-mails that
Jenny has gorgeous loooong fingernails? No? I wonder how I could I have forgotten to
mention it," Chelsea said with a wry smile. Sterling looked at her with a pained
expression. "Were my nails as long as hers when I was eight? I dont recall exactly. Oh
well, I just know they were very long. And sharp. Remember how I used to give you
tummy-scratches? I taught Jenny how. Isnt she amazing?" Chelsea said sweetly,
caressing Jennys blond hair. Jenny smiled lovingly at her. "Ch-Chelsea…," her father
said in a hoarse whisper. "What is it Daddy? Have you had enough tummy-scratching?"
she asked kindly. He nodded quickly, his eyes pleading. "Jenny, sweetheart, why dont
you give your new grampa a backscratch now," Chelsea said, winking at her. "Ok!"
Jenny said, winking back, and she began gently scratching Sterlings back with her sharp
long fingernails. "P-please…" her father said in a barely-audible whisper. "Im really
glad you came to my wedding, Daddy. I mean, sure it wouldve been nice if youd come
to any of my dance recitals, or my school plays, or my high-school graduation too…but
you know what they say? Water under the bridge…right?" Chelsea gave her dad a little
kiss on the cheek as she got up. "I think Ill just leave you two to keep getting
acquainted, ok?" Chelsea asked. Sterling shook his head no and pleaded with his eyes.
"Jenny? Ok?" she asked, ignoring him. "Ok, Chelsea!" Jenny said, continuing to give
him a backscratch with one hand, and playing with the hair on his arm with her long nails
on her other hand. Chelsea smiled mercilessly into her fathers pitiful eyes and said,
"Jenny, why dont you tell your new grampa all the things you want for your birthday."
"Awesome!" Jenny squeaked, and she began, "Well…Chelseas taking me to get my ears
pierced and I dont want just little gold studs, so the first thing I want for my birthday are
diamond studs. Not the little teeny ones you can hardly see…I want bigger ones that
sparkle. Are you enjoying your backscratch? My nails are awesome arent they! And
the next thing I want for my birthday is…"
CHAPTER 12…
The secluded resort island was very near the equator, so they had to time the ceremony
carefully because the sun would set quickly at almost exactly 6PM. Two golf carts came
for them at 5PM, and deposited them on the beach. Chelsea, Genevieve, Deb and Jenny
were resplendent in white silk wraparound sarongs, and all were barefoot. Ian drove one
cart and also was there to make sure everything went smoothly, and the sight of
Genevieve with her long dark-red fingernails and matching toenails, and her knee-length
black hair flowing over the white sarong, gave him an instant erection. Chelseas father,
Sterling Larson, wore jeans and a safari shirt, while Sam and Zack were dashing in their
matching outfits of unpadded white linen sport coats and pants, with no shirts or shoes.
Zack and Jenny giggled all the way during the golf cart ride, with her continually
scratching his bare tummy and chest with her very long fingernails. By the time they
reached the beach, Zacks skin was laced with light pink lines, and Chelsea quietly
admonished her to "give it a rest" until after the ceremony. "But you can hold Zacks
hand," she said sweetly, and Jenny grasped his little hand immediately, interlacing their
fingers and gently pressing her nails into the back of his hand. Zack shivvered and
beamed at her.
The minister arrived at five-thirty, and asked about vows and rings and other procedural
matters. "Im happy this wedding is going as planned," he said to Sam and Chelsea, "I
was supposed to perform another one earlier, but they called it off at the last minute."
"Holy cow!" Sam said, "Youd think by the time people would come all the way down
here to this island theyd be sure of what theyre doing." "Its never happened before,"
the minister said, "Even odder…the reason the groom gave for backing out was---listen
to this---the bride bites her fingernails! Even if that was a deal-breaker, I would think
hed have noticed it before." "Maybe it was just an excuse," Sam offered. "Maybe,"
Chelsea said, admiring her long, perfect natural nails.
Sam stood by the minister, with Zack at his side. Jenny had a little tantrum because Deb
made her and Zack let go of each others hands so Jenny could stand by Chelsea, but
Chelsea said it didnt matter, that Jenny could stand with her dad and Zack if she wanted.
Jenny smiled and grasped Zacks hand again. "Dearly beloved," the minister said, "We
are gathered here today to join these two people in the bonds of matrimony. Who gives
this woman to be wed?" "I do," Sterling said, holding Chelseas arm and ushering her
beside Sam, then he stood next to Deb. They smiled at each other, and Chelsea sighed
and said, "Ok, like, this is my wedding, ok? Could you two like, not make googoo eyes
at each other?" "Sorry," Deb said. The minister asked Sam and Chelsea to face each
other, and announced that the bride and groom had requested to recite their own vows.
"Sam?" he said. Sam began, "Chelsea. Not only have you brought happiness back into
my life, youve brought more of it than I ever exepected to feel. Not only that, but you
accepted and love Jenny as your own daughter. My only hope is that I can be everything
to you that you are to me. I vow to be kind and understanding and not take myself too
seriously. I vow to respect you and let you be who you are, because thats who I fell in
love with. I vow to be faithful to you and to put you first, before my own needs, for as
long as I live. You are not only the love of my live, you are my life." "Chelsea?" the
minister said. "What?" Chelsea said, her voice breaking and tears flowing down her
exquisitely-beautiful cheeks, "I cant top that. Cant we just skip to the part where you
say were married and then we go have sex?" Genevieve elbowed her in the arm. "Oww!
Oh, alright," Chelsea sighed, wiping her tears. Genevieve took Chelseas hand and
interlaced their fingers. "You can do this," Genevieve whispered. Chelsea closed her
eyes and took a deep breath and whispered, "I can do this. I can totally do this. Im
awesome." She opened her eyes and began, "Youre like, the first person I ever was with
who I was still in to after like, more than a month." Genevieve rolled her eyes and braced
for what might come out of Chelseas mouth next. "Youre totally hot. Awesomely hot,"
she said, raking her one inch-long fingernails slowly down Sams bare, hairy chest, at the
same time squeezing Genevieves hand tightly. "Focus, Chelsea," Genevieve whispered.
Chelsea went on, "Sure, you love me when we…" "Remember, G-rated," Genevieve
whispered. "…kiss and, um, stuff," Chelsea continued, "But you even love me when Im
being a total bitch." Zack whispered to Deb, "Mommy, Chelsea said a bad word." "Yes
I know honey, but its ok because shes getting married and shes nervous." "So heres
the vow part," Chelsea said, "I vow to stay hot, even when Im old. Its like, totally do-
able…I mean, just look at Deb!" "Oh, gee, thank you," Deb said, shaking her head.
"Youre welcome," Chelsea said sweetly, oblivious to the backhandedness of her
compliment, and Debs sarcasm, and she went on, "I vow to be an awesome mother to
Jenny, to protect her and guide her and help her be as hot as she can be…I mean, when
shes older of course…and to teach her to respect herself and never let anyone disrespect
her." Chelsea looked at Genevieve who nodded her approval. Chelsea continued, "I vow
to always keep some secrets, and never completely reveal everything there is to know
about me, because a little mystery is hot. I vow every day to make you feel like we just
met, and to make every time we…kiss and stuff…feel like its the first time were doing
it. I vow to make life with me surprising and thrilling and amazing." The minister said,
"And now, if youll place the rings on each others fingers…" Chelsea cried, "Oh my
God, fingers! That reminds me…I totally vow to never, ever cut my incredibly awesome
long nails!"
Sam took a jewelry box from his pocket, and inside was a stupendous diamond wedding
band. Chelsea extended her left hand, and Sam slipped it on next to her huge diamond
engagement ring. Genevieve handed Chelsea a gold wedding band and she took Sams
hand and slipped the ring on his finger. As she withdrew her hand she curved her fingers
and scratched his hand slowly, giving him a sultry gaze. The minister clasped his hands
in front of himself and began, "Friends, when a man and a woman embark on a life
together…" Sam looked at Chelsea and saw her luscious breasts rise and fall as her
breathing quickened, and her eyes narrowed and she licked her lips, and he whispered to
the minister, "I dont mean to be rude, but believe me, you need to skip the sermon and
pronounce us." "But its customary…," the minister protested. "Trust me, Reverend,"
Sam pleaded, glancing nervously at Chelsea, who was starting to pant. "Very well," he
said, somewhat perturbed at being denied his chance to sermonize, "By the power vested
in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss…" Chelsea clutched
Genevieves face tenderly with her nails and gave her a strong kiss on her lips. "…each
other…," the minister finished, a look of befuddlement on his face. "Sorry," Chelsea
giggled, "I had to thank my BFF for helping me get through it without freaking."
Chelsea turned to Sam and slipped her hands inside his jacket, scraping his nipples
seductively with her one inch-long thumbnails. Slowly she scratched her fingernails up and
over his shoulders and behind his neck as she pressed herself tight against him. She
tossed back her long, silky brown hair and gently pulled his face down while she turned
hers upward, closing her eyes and parting her lips. As their lips met, Chelseas tongue
slithered forward into Sams mouth. "Ewww!" Jenny whispered. As Chelseas kiss
lingered it grew more frenzied, and she rubbed her bare foot up Sams leg, raising his
pant leg, and she scratched her longish red toenails down his calf. Suddenly she lept up
and wrapped her legs around him, and as he caught her instinctively, she quickly undid
the clip holding her white silk sarong and it slipped off her back. Deb gasped and quickly
turned Zacks and Jennys faces to herself; Sterling and the minister covered their eyes,
and the minister gasped, "Merciful Lord!" Genevieve plucked Chelseas sarong from the
beach, shook the sand off of it, and tried to cover Chelseas nude backside while the rest
of the wedding party could make a hasty retreat. When she saw they were out of sight,
Genevieve dropped the sarong and ran to join the others, as Chelsea clawed Sams jacket
off and raked her nails down his back and panted, "Take me in the water!" Carrying her
wrapped around him, Sam stumbled across the sandy beach while Chelsea worked his
pants down with her feet, and still maybe ten yards shy of the oceans edge, she impailed
her hot, slippery pussy on his cock and began to pump herself against him urgently.
"Run faster!" she panted, "I want my first orgasm as your wife to be in the ocean." As
Sam ploughed into the surf, Chelsea dug her longish toenails into his asscheeks, clawed
his back with her one inch-long natural fingernails and screamed, "Yesssssssssss!" at the top
of her lungs as the oceans waves and the waves of her orgasm washed over her
incredible, perfect body.
CHAPTER 14…
After about a half-hour of intense sex in the ocean, Sam carried Chelsea out of the water
and up the beach. The sun had gone down, and it took him a while to find Chelseas
white sarong on the white sand, in the dark. Sam told Chelsea to go on ahead while he
searched for his pants and jacket on the dark beach, and hed catch up with her later. It
was a long walk up the beach to their beach house, and Chelsea stopped to rest on a large
hunk of driftwood, and suddenly a tall young man in swimming trunks came bounding
out of the surf. Chelsea shrieked, and the young man cried, "Oh, shit! I didnt see
anyone there." "You scared the crap out of me!" Chelsea shouted. "Im sorry if I
frightened you. I was just out for a last swim," he said, "The beach is usually deserted
now. I definitely didnt expect to see a girl all by herself." As the guy came closer,
Chelsea could see that he was very good-looking and she regretted yelling at him.
"Maybe Im not a girl," Chelsea said, inviting him to share her driftwood seat, "Maybe
Im a mermaid. Did you ever think of that?" "Well, if youre a mermaid, wheres your
tail?" he joked, sitting next to her. "I traded it for a pair of legs and feet," Chelsea
responded, "Which just happen to be awesomely perfect and gorgeous." "If you do say so
yourself," he grinned. "Dont you think my legs are awesome?" she asked, lifting her leg
and caressing it with her hand. "Theyre definitely that," he said, starting to get up.
Chelsea took his arm and didnt let him stand. "You didnt say anything about my feet,"
she said, turning her ankle and spreading her toes, "Do you like my pedicure?"
"I…ah…cant see too well…its kinda dark…," he muttered. "You can feel," Chelsea
said quietly, stroking his leg with her toenails. "Your toenails are kinda sharp!" he
remarked with surprise. "My toenails are very sharp," she purred, "So are my fingernails.
Theyre reaallllly long too. All mermaids have looonnnng, sharp nails. So they can
grasp their prey." Chelsea lightly dug her one inch-long natural fingernails into his thigh.
"Look, miss…?" he began. "Chelsea," she said softly. "Chelsea. Look, Chelsea, its
been really nice meeting you, but…uhh…my wife is waiting for me, and…" "Youre
married?" Chelsea said. "Sorry," he said. "Dont be," she said, tracing a nail down his
chest and around his nipple, "Im married too." "Really? Long time, huh." he asked,
somewhat facetiously. "Like, an hour maybe," she answered. The young man laughed.
"Seriously. It was a sunset wedding on the beach," she said, "Arent you going to
congratulate me?" "I really have to go," he said, his voice betraying his anxiety, which
excited Chelsea. "Well, congratulations," he said, offering her a handshake. Chelsea
gave him a disappointed look. "Hug?" she pleaded. The young man hesitated, but his
inner voice told him to humor her, and then run. "Sure," he sighed, embracing her. He
felt her warmth against him, her soft cheek against his, the feel of her long, damp hair on
his skin…and the gentle stroke of her long fingernails on his bare back. Her hot breath
caressed his face as she turned to him. "Kiss?" she whispered softly, and then her sweet,
warm lips and tongue overpowered his senses and in seconds she was on top of him with
his hard cock deep inside her.
CHAPTER 15…
Sam had catered a reception buffet at the house, and everyone was waiting for him and
Chelsea when they walked in. "You guys are unbelievably late!" Deb exclaimed. "Its
Sams fault," Chelsea said with a straight face. "Right, we believe that," Deb said
sarcastically, "Especially after your little performance on the beach." "That was his fault,
too," Chelsea insisted, then she smiled, "Because hes so hot." Deb laughed, "Ahh,
young love." And she smiled at Chelseas father, and he smiled back at her, and they
looked into each others eyes. "Stop that!" Chelsea cried, "Stop looking at each other
like that!" "Chelsea!?" Deb and her father both exclaimed almost at the same time.
Chelsea folded her arms like a petulant little girl and pouted. Jenny tugged Chelseas
sarong and asked quietly, "Mommy? Why dont you want Deb and Grampa to like each
other?" "Oh my God! You called me Mommy for the first time! Oh my God! I love
you Jenny!" Chelsea cried, her voice breaking and tears pouring from her eyes. She
grabbed Jenny and hugged her and kissed her, sobbing with joy. "Dont you want Deb
and Grampa to be happy like you and Daddy?" Jenny asked, "Mommy?" "Of course I
do," Chelsea cried, and she turned to Deb and her father and said, "Im sorry for being
such a selfish bitch." As Jenny walked past Sterling he discreetly whispered, "Thank
you, Jenny, youre an amazing little girl." "I know," she said. Jenny gently scratched the
back of his hand with her long nails and whispered, "Dont forget my birthday Grampa."
Chelsea insisted she had to take a quick shower. "I have sand under my toenails!" she
whined, "Sam, you could use a shower too." "Maybe wed better take separate showers,"
Sam said when they got to their bathroom and he turned on the water. "Thatll take
forever," Chelsea said, letting her sarong fall to the floor. Sam said, "Ok, but promise
me…no fooling around…because the others are hungry and waiting and it would be rude
not to join them as soon as possible." "I promise," she said sweetly, giving him a quick
kiss on the back of his neck as they got in the shower. Chelsea leaned her back against
Sam and brought his hands in front of her to her breasts, while she moved her perfect,
tight ass against his cock. "Chelsea! You promised!" he exclaimed, as she turned to face
him and slowly dragged her long, sexy fingernails up his back and pulled herself up by
his shoulders, wrapping her long, toned legs around him and driving her hot pussy onto
his cock. "I meant it when I promised, thats what counts," she said just before she
engulfed his lips with hers, "And plus, I never vowed to keep all my promises."
"Oh my gosh your father is charming!" Deb whispered to Chelsea as they stood by the
buffet, "And…I hope this isnt weird for you to hear about your father, but hes
incredibly sexy." "Of course hes hot, hes my dad," Chelsea said, "So…are you gonna
do him tonight?" "Chelsea!" Deb blushed. Then after a moment of silence, she said
quietly, "Maybe. Are you sure youre ok with it?" "Yeah," Chelsea said quietly,
"Excuse me." And she ran to her bedroom and closed the door. Sam saw her and started
after, but Deb stopped him, "Let me." Sam shrugged his shoulders. He smiled at Zack
and Jenny dancing together, her little hand on his little neck, scratching him softly with
her very long nails that Chelsea kept so perfectly manicured for her. Sterling asked
Genevieve to dance and she accepted. "Are you feeling ok?" she asked him, "Youre
shivvering." "Im f-fine," he said, swallowing hard, staring at her long, tapered dark-red
nails resting softly in his hand.
Deb knocked on Chelseas bedroom door and went inside, closing and locking it behind
her. Chelsea was lying across the bed on her stomach. "We have to have this out," Deb
said, "Can I sit next to you?" "Whatever," Chelsea said, rolling on her side to make room
for Deb. "Would you mind telling me why you have a problem with your father and I
being with each other?" Deb began. "I dunno," Chelsea said, "I know its immature, but
I cant help it. Im afraid youll move away." Deb said, "I dont think thats too likely.
My ex was allergic to work, and your father is a workaholic. For mine and Zacks sake,
Id prefer someone who isnt at one of those extremes." "My dad only works all the time
because he doesnt have someone like you to come home to," Chelsea said. "Thats the
sweetest thing youve ever said," Deb smiled, stroking Chelseas long brown hair.
"Youre the sweetest person Ive ever met," Chelsea smiled, taking Debs hand and
kissing it lovingly. "You know, Chelsea, bizarre as it seems considering what
we…um…did…with each other," Deb started. "You mean, had sex," Chelsea stated.
"Right…that," Deb sighed, "Anyway…if Id had a baby the first time I got pregnant, he
or she would be about your age now. So I think…I mean, well…I kind of have this
maternal feeling toward you." "Really?" Chelsea said, sitting up, "You too? I mean, I
kinda feel like that also." Tears streamed down Chelseas cheeks, and Deb clasped
Chelsea to her tightly. "You wont ever leave me?" Chelsea sniffled. "Never," Deb said.
"Promise?" Chelsea whispered in her ear, and she gave Deb a soft little kiss on her neck.
"I promise," Deb said. "Thanks," Chelsea said softly, grazing Debs neck with her nails
and kissing her lightly at the corner of her mouth. "Use your nails," Chelsea whispered.
"Excuse me?" Deb said, her heart beginning to race from the feeling Chelseas warm
breath under her nose, along with the mesmerizing sensation of Chelseas nails on her
neck. Chelsea said, "On Daddy…when you have sex. Use your nails. Itll drive him
insane. Hes got a thing for girls long nails…I think maybe its hereditary." And before
Deb knew what was happening, Chelseas lips were on hers, making the room spin
around, and she felt Chelseas one inch-long fingernails scrape her breasts lightly as she
unwrapped Debs sarong, and she stroked her velvet-soft feet up and down Debs
smooth, shapely legs. "Say you love me," Chelsea purred as she began to fondle Debs
clit with her long nails. "I l-love you," Deb gasped. "When you and Daddy get married,
I can call you Mom cant I?" Chelsea whispered, licking her hot tongue around Debs
sensitive nipples. Deb looked at her startled and bewildered. Chelsea burned an urgent
stare into Debs eyes and repeated intently, "Say I can call you Mom." "Ok," Deb
squeaked. "Awesome," Chelsea smiled, and she slid her fingers deep inside Deb and
strummed Debs clit repeatedly with her long thumbnail until Deb convulsed and shook.
Then Chelsea kissed her passionately and started bringing her toward another climax, but
just at the crest of her second orgasm, Chelsea withdrew her hand, leaving Deb wide-
eyed, gasping and panting. "I bet right now youre like, hornier than youve ever been in
your life, huh," Chelsea laughed softly. She took Debs hands in hers and felt the edges
of her fingernails, which had grown some and were almost a half-inch long now. "I bet
you scratch the skin off Daddys back tonight," Chelsea said lustfully, and she sighed, "I
so wish I could watch…but like, that would be weird, wouldnt it. Oh well, Ill see the
marks tomorrow." Deb just looked at Chelsea with incredulous eyes. "Oh! And I expect
a full account of all the juicy details in the morning," Chelsea exclaimed, and she
shivvered, "Ooooooh, its getting me hot just thinking about it." Chelsea gave Deb a
long, deep kiss and then she wrapped her sarong around herself and walked barefoot out
to the living area.
"There you are! Is everything alright?" Sam asked when Chelsea came out of the
bedroom. "Everything is perfect," Chelsea smiled, kissing him tenderly. "Wheres
Deb?" Sam asked. "She needed to freshen up a little," Chelsea said, then she whispered
in Sams ear, "She and my dad are totally gonna have sex tonight. Isnt that awesome?"
When Deb came out, Sterling whispered to her, "Did you and Chelsea have a productive
meeting?" "Uhh, you could say that," Deb answered. "So…are we on?" he asked. "Oh
were soooo on," Deb purred, reaching inside his open shirt and scratching her nails
across his hairy chest. Deb was startled by how strongly he reacted, shuddering and
inhaling sharply, but it just made her hornier than she already was. "Would you like to
go for a midnight swim in the ocean?" Sterling asked. "What time is it now?" Deb
asked. Sterling looked at his watch, "Two minutes to eleven." "Lets make it an eleven
oclock swim," she said with a leer, dragging her fingernails slowly along his arm, and
then she grabbed him and pulled him to the lanai and out onto the beach.
Zack and Jenny had gone to bed earlier, and with Deb and Sterling somewhere outside
having sex in the surf, Chelsea grabbed an almost-full bottle of rum and handed it to Sam,
then she pulled him and Genevieve toward the bedroom and said, "Lets have a drink!"
"Oh…Id love to," Genevieve lied, suspecting that Chelsea was plotting a threeway,
"But Ian is coming over in a couple minutes and I dont want to pass out on him." "Party
pooper," Chelsea pouted. "Ill have a drink with you," Sam said. "Cool, Ill be right
there," she smiled. When he was out of earshot, Chelsea grabbed Genevieve and kissed
her hard and raked her nails softly over Genevieves little breasts and whispered, "You
know its only a matter of time, dont you."
Chelsea came into the bedroom and Sam poured them each a shot of rum. "To you,"
Sam said, holding up his glass. "To me," Chelsea said, clinking hers against his, and she
downed the shot. "How about a toast to us?" Sam asked. "How about we have sex?"
Chelsea said, crawling on top of him and driving her tongue into his mouth. "I wish we
could stay on this island forever," she sighed. "It is romantic, isnt it?" Sam said. "If I
lived here Id never have to wear shoes," she said, stretching her leg and spreading her
toes, "I could let my toenails grow as long as my fingernails." Sam chuckled, "That
would be a little over-the-top." "You know youd totally love it," Chelsea purred,
dragging her longish red-painted toenails slowly up his leg, and then scratched his cock
seductively and giggled when he hardened instantly. Then she climbed over him and
lowered herself onto his dick. As Chelsea got closer to orgasm, she reached under Sams
back and dug her nails into his back and pulled him up so they were sitting facing each
other, then she pulled him on top of her and crossed her ankles behind his head as he
pumped her. Chelsea started to climax, and she panted, "Suck my toes," forcing them
into his mouth. She put her other foot against his collarbone and clawed her sharp
toenails down to his nipple and dug them in. Sam grabbed her ankle but her strength was
incredible when she was that sexually aroused, and he couldnt budge her. Chelsea
flexed her other toes and they jabbed into the roof of his mouth and he tried pulling her
foot away but again, he couldnt. Chelsea screamed as her orgasm began, and she
wrapped her legs around his neck and clawed his back with her toenails while she dug her
fingernails into his asscheeks. Her orgasm lasted a couple minutes, and when it was over,
she was even wilder than before, grabbing his wrists and slamming him down against the
bed and climbing on top of his cock and pounding him fast with all her weight, screaming
and moaning and dragging her long fingernails slow and hard down his chest and
stomach. She orgasmed a second time, stronger than the first, and she leaned forward
and bit his shoulder. "Owww! Christ! Chelsea! Stop!" Sam cried. She lifted her head
and looked at him. Her sultry hazel eyes were wild, her face flushed and her lips were
plumped from lust. "Tell me you love me," she growled. "I love you…you know I love
you," Sam gasped. Chelsea flashed a satisfied grin and leaned down, opening her mouth.
"Please…be careful," he said. "I wont bite," she said, sucking gently on his neck.
"Thanks," he said. As she undulated her hips, driving him relentlessly toward cumming,
Chelsea spread her hands on his chest and pressed her nails into him, and she put her lips
to his ear and whispered, "But I might scratch."
CHAPTER 16…
By 2AM, even with her lips, hands, feet, all twenty of her incredibly sexy nails, and her
most seductive techniques, she just couldnt get Sam hard enough for sex. Getting
fingered by a guy always disappointed her, partly because she needed to feel long nails,
but long nails on a guy made her sick to her stomach, and partly because she knew that
only someone with a clit of their own knew best how to touch hers. So she sat on Sams
face and made him eat her until he could barely move his tongue, and then she kissed his
forehead and whispered, "Rest." She spooned him, and almost instantly she could hear
that he was deep asleep.
Restless, Chelsea slipped into a thin, silk kimono and padded barefoot quietly out onto
the lanai. She tiptoed into Jennys room and smiled to herself, seeing her and Zack
sleeping back-to-back, separated by a wall of pillows. She bent over Jenny and combed
her long fingernails through Jennys soft blond hair, and she leaned down and kissed her
gently on her forehead. Jenny stirred and half-opened her eyes. "I love you Mommy,"
she whispered. "I love you too, sweetie," Chelsea whispered, sniffling. One of Chelseas
teardrops splashed onto Jennys face, and she reached up and stroked Chelseas wet
cheek with her very long fingernails and whispered, "Why are you crying, Mommy? Are
you sad?" "Oh, no, baby," Chelsea whispered, "Sometimes I cry when Im really, really
happy."
Chelsea passed by her fathers room and it was dark and quiet inside. She tried the
handle on the screen door and it turned, so she padded in. She could see two lumps in the
bed, and she stood over the larger lump for several minutes, until suddenly her fathers
eyes snapped open. Chelsea quickly put her hand over his mouth and her long-nailed
finger to her lips. He pointed to where Deb was sleeping and put his finger to his lips,
and Chelsea nodded. Sterling spread his arms in a welcoming gesture, and Chelsea bent
down and they hugged. "I love you, Chelsea," he whispered. "Thanks," Chelsea
whispered. As she withdrew from her fathers embrace, Chelsea let the tips of her one inch-
long natural fingernails glide lightly down his arms, and she smiled as she felt him
tremble and heard him inhale quickly. When she was on the lanai, she paused and put
her ear to the screen. She heard Deb giggle, "Oh my gosh! Sterling! Youre insatiable!"
There was a dim light in Genevieves room, and Chelsea listened outside on the lanai.
She heard the sound of heavy breathing and the repetitive creak of bedsprings. She could
see Genevieve on top of Ian, her knee-length black hair draped over both of them, and
quickly Chelsea was kneeling behind Genevieve. "Oh my God! Chelsea!" Genevieve
squeaked, startled by her sudden appearance, "You almost gave me a heart attack!"
"Know what Id like to give you?" Chelsea asked, kissing the back of Genevieves neck
and reaching around to stroke her nipples with her long nails. "Dont you dare!"
Genevieve cried as Chelsea started to lift her off of Ian, "Im almost there, and I dont
think he can last much longer." "Uhh…hello," Ian said. "Hi," Chelsea said, lying on the
bed next to him, on her side. "Thank you," Genevieve sighed, and she closed her eyes
and resumed slowly rotating her hips. Chelsea stroked Ians forehead with her
fingernails, and she stroked her velvet-soft foot up the inside of his thigh. "Remember
my amazing toenails?" Chelsea asked softly. Genevieve opened her eyes and cried,
"Chelsea! No!" Chelsea curled her toes and scratched down the inside of Ians thigh,
while she leaned over with parted lips and whispered, "When I kiss you, youre gonna
cum like a volcano." And as soon as he felt her tongue slither into his mouth, Genevieve
felt him start to shoot inside her. "Dammit Chelsea!" she screamed. "Aww, dont worry
lover, Ill take good care of you," Chelsea purred. She turned to Ian and said, "Youre so
done here, so like, get out, ok?" He quickly got dressed and stumbled out through the
lanai. "Why do you keep doing that to me?" Genevieve whined. "Shhh," Chelsea
whispered, and she smothered Genevieve with an intoxicating kiss, "Its my wedding
night. I want you all to myself." Genevieve just looked at Chelsea with utter incredulity.
"Did you like the vows I made up?" Chelsea asked, tracing her one inch-long fingernail
slowly down Genevieves chest and around her little breasts in circles. "Actually, they
were amazing," Genevieve said. Chelsea began breathing faster and she grasped
Genevieves nipples with her nails, pulling them gently. "I meant them for you," Chelsea
said softly, clawing her longish red-polished toenails lightly against Genevieves ribs as
she wrapped her long legs around her, and she brushed Genevieves luxuriant black hair
away from her face and stroked her cheek with her long, sexy, unpolished fingernails.
"Oh my God!" Genevieve gasped with shock and alarm, "Chelsea…I…I dont know
what to say." Chelsea held Genevieves face with her one inch-long nails and leaned in.
Genevieve felt Chelseas hot breath under her nose. "Just say that you love me," she
smiled as their lips barely touched. Genevieve was dumbstruck, shaking with anxiety,
and her dark, espresso-colored eyes darted furtively in a futile attempt to escape
Chelseas burning, penetrating stare. She felt Chelseas sharp nails press into her face
harder, and Chelsea repeated slowly and firmly, "Tell me you love me." Genevieve
swallowed hard. Her mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. "I…love you," she
squeaked. Chelseas nostrils flared, and she drove her hot tongue into Genevieves
mouth, engulfing her lips in a warm, honey-sweet kiss that made her swoon. She slid her
one inch-long nails deep inside Genevieve and ushered Genevieves hand between her legs,
inhaling deeply when she felt her wonderful long, dark-red nails slide up her dripping-
wet pussy and sensually scratch her swollen clit. Chelsea began to pant heavily, and she
closed her eyes and sighed, "Awesome."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
SEX, LIES and AWESOME NAILS - Part 5
SEX, LIES and AWESOME NAILS - Part 5
Chapter 1…
Two years had passed. Chelsea was now 24. With the exquisite features of a supermodel,
she could still captivate with a single glance of her smoldering hazel eyes. Despite the
overwhelming style trend which has women keeping their nails clipped androgynously
short, Chelsea never for a moment entertained the idea of shortening hers the least bit.
Her perfectly-manicured natural inch-long fingernails were her pride and obsession, the
epicenter of her sensuality, her weapons of mass seduction. And Chelsea did seduce
massively. She was sexually insatiable, and the concept of monogamy was as
unfathomable to her as having short fingernails. Marriage hadnt tempered Chelseas
promiscuity in the least, yet she had kept her husband Sam blissfully unaware of her
multitudinous infidelities. Lying came naturally to Chelsea, and she had an uncanny gift
for evading culpability. But having to come home every night was tedious for her, and
she began to feel trapped and caged. Soon she grew restless and resentful.
Chelsea had adopted Sams nine year-old daughter Jenny right after the wedding.
Chelsea saw in Jenny the opportunity to replicate herself. And the more Jenny---now
almost twelve---came to resemble Chelsea in both looks and mannerism, the deeper
Chelseas obsessive attachment to her grew. Jenny desperately longed for a mother, and
succumbed completely to Chelseas manipulative charm. She emulated Chelsea in every
way possible. Shed begun growing her nails long at age nine, and by now they were half
an inch, appearing on her little hands quite in-proportion to Chelseas. Jenny talked like
Chelsea, carried herself with the same entitlement, and had captured Chelseas uncanny
flirting ability to get whatever she wanted. It had somewhat amused her father at first,
but now that Jenny was on the cusp of puberty, it was beginning to worry and disturb
him, because it wasnt just boys her own age that Jenny turned her charms on. More and
more, Sam had begun to try to pull Jenny back to being the innocent little girl he felt she
should be. Of course his efforts met with nothing but resistance and resentment from her.
And, from Chelsea. Since she saw Jenny as a mirror of herself, she took Sams attitude
as a personal rejection…something Chelsea could not abide. Unbeknownst to Sam,
Jenny was the only thread holding Chelsea to their marriage.
Chapter 2…
Seated at a long, marble-topped table in a glass-enclosed conference room, Sam and his
lawyer were on one side, Chelsea and her lawyer on the other. The table was strewn with
files and yellow legal pads, and a middle-aged woman in half-glasses sat at the far end of
the table recording the negotiations. "Come on, Chelsea, be reasonable!" Sam urged,
with frustration and desperation in his voice, "All youre doing is running up your legal
fees." "Please tell your client to address my client through us," Chelseas lawyer said
with a professional demeanor. She was an attractive woman in her early forties, no doubt
having been quite beautiful in her youth. "Its ok," Chelsea said softly. Looking warmly
into the womans eyes, Chelsea spoke as though to the others and said, "Marybeth is very
protective of me." She turned to Sam and, smiling, said, "Im sure she wont charge me
extra." Beneath the table, Chelseas hand rested on Marybeths leg, her inch-long
fingernails catching the womans panty-hose as she stroked her thigh. Marybeth smiled
and forced a little laugh, trying desperately not to let distraction show on her face. "You
dont think Im being unreasonable, do you?" Chelsea asked Sams attorney across the
table, with tone of innocent sincerity in curious juxtaposition to the wry smile on her lips.
"Sam…I…think we should…that is, I believe…perhaps we ought to consider Chelseas
offer," the attorney said. "Are you crazy?" Sam exclaimed. "It…its…n-not
that…un…r-r-reasonable," the lawyer replied. Sam leaned aside to his attorney and
whispered, "Whats wrong, Don? Are you sick? Your face is all red and youre
sweating." "Im fine!" the attorney shot back defensively, straightening himself in his
seat and tightening the knot of his tie. "Well, if you really think its a good settlement,"
Sam sighed, clicking open a ballpoint pen, and he signed the documents in front of him.
Sam, Chelsea and Chelseas lawyer Marybeth got up. "Oh…uh…Sam, could you hand
me my overcoat?" his lawyer, Don, asked. "Um, sure," Sam replied, somewhat puzzled
at the request, since the coat was merely folded over a chair at the end of the table. Don
got up quickly and spun around with his back to the others and put his coat on. "Are you
sure youre not sick?" Sam asked him, "Its at least seventy-five degrees in here, and
youve got your overcoat buttoned up." "Oh. Yeah. So I have," Don chuckled nervously.
He was the last to file out of the conference room, right behind Chelsea. She stopped and
turned to him and slipped her foot out of her high-heeled Manolo sling-back. "Do you
like my pedicure?" she asked in a whisper, spreading her toes and wiggling them slowly.
Don coughed nervously. "I keep my toenails kind of long, like past my toe-tips," she
continued, and with a smile and a wink added, "My toenails are why it felt so awesome.
I just thought you might want to know."
Chelsea caught up with her attorney, Marybeth, at the elevator. A paunchy, older
attorney attempted to get on with them, but Chelsea smiled at him and said assertively,
"This ones full," blocking the way while the doors closed. She pushed the Lobby button
with her knuckle, and then she crowded Marybeth against the elevator wall, slipping one
hand up under her blue business suit skirt, and the other hand inside her blouse. "I want
to thank you," Chelsea said, licking and biting at Marybeths neck. "For what. I didnt
do anything. I just sat there while your ex and his lawyer gave you everything you asked
for," the attorney said panting, succumbing to Chelseas advances. "I want to thank you
for what youre going to do," Chelsea said, tearing open the crotch of Marybeths panty-
hose with her inch-long fingernails. "You mean, for sex?" Marybeth asked. "As if!"
Chelsea laughed, "If it were for sex, youd obviously be the one thanking me." She
pressed her lips to Marybeths and drowned her in a warm-honey kiss that left the woman
swooning. "Im thanking you because youre going to get me full custody of Jenny,"
Chelsea said, staring resolutely into her attorneys dilated pupils. "Chelsea, I have to tell
you the chances a judge will grant you sole custody are like a million-to-one," she
exclaimed. "Im one in a million," Chelsea replied confidently, as she deftly worked her
long fingernails inside Marybeths pussy and expertly brought her to orgasm just as they
landed on the ground floor. Chelsea licked her long nails and blew Marybeth a kiss,
saying, "Youre welcome. And I know you wont let me down," as she exited, leaving
her attorney clinging to the elevator wall, her knees still too weak to move.
Chapter 3…
Chelsea and Marybeth arrived in the courtroom at the same time as Sam. He was
accompanied by a thin, fragile-looking man with moussed hair and high-style glasses. "I
cant believe youre trying to take Jenny from me, Chelsea," he said choking back tears,
"How can you be so evil?" "Im not. Im awesome," Chelsea said. "Yeah, right," Sam
said bitterly. Marybeth stepped in and took Chelsea by the arm, lifting a finger to her lips
and shaking her head. "Id like you to meet Miles Boyle," Sam said with a quick arch of
his eyebrows, "My new attorney." The thin man extended his bony hand limply to
Marybeth, and with a little flutter of his eyes, said, "Charmed." It was immediately
obvious that Sams new lawyer was openly gay, and Sam gave Chelsea a smug look.
She realized to her chagrin he wasnt quite as naEve as shed thought, and for a moment
she seemed flustered. The bailiff announced ceremoniously, "All rise…Family Court is
now in session, the honorable Harold Lattimore presiding," and a tall, gray-haired but
good-looking man in robes ascended the bench with purposeful strides. Chelseas usual
look of entitled confidence quickly returned. "Please be seated," the judge said in a deep,
resonant voice, and rapped his gavel once. Miles Boyle stood quickly and said, "Your
honor, we move for an immediate dismissal of the petition to grant sole custody of the
minor child Jenny to this…girl…who is not her biological mother and isnt even old
enough to have a twelve year-old child." "Motion to dismiss is denied," the judge said
with a dismissive hand gesture, "Ill hear arguments from both parties. Folks this isnt a
murder trial and theres no jury here. Ill ask the questions, the parties will answer, and
the lawyers will please try to be as inconspicuous as possible. Agreed? Good. Now lets
see here…hmm…Sam and Chelsea, married two years…Jenny, age eleven, is Sams
biological daughter…birth mother deceased…Chelsea legally adopted Jenny immediately
following the marriage to Sam. Alright then, Chelsea, tell me why you feel you should
have sole custody of Jenny." Without hesitation, Chelsea answered, "Because Im
awesome." Muffled laughter resonated around the courtroom, and the judge banged his
gavel. "Ill stipulate to your…er…awesome-ness," the judge said, humoring her.
"Thank you, youre really sweet," Chelsea answered genuinely. "Uh…yes. Well,
Chelsea, could you please be a little more…detailed?" he requested. "Sure," Chelsea
replied, and her face took on a serious look. "A girl Jennys age desperately needs a
mom," she began. "Dont you think she needs a father, too?" the judge asked. "Not as
much as a mom, and plus, Sam works like, twenty-four seven," Chelsea replied. "Thats
a lie!" Sam shouted. "That kind of outburst isnt helping your case I can assure you," the
judge barked, "Thats going to serve as your one and only warning. Next time, Ill find
you in contempt. Are we clear?" Sam nodded contritely, "Yes your honor. Sorry your
honor." "Now then Chelsea," the judge said, "Please explain to me why you think Jenny
needs a mother more than a father." "I dont think it, I know it, your honor," Chelsea
said, her voice breaking, "You see, my mom died when I was Jennys age." Chelsea
began to weep softly. "Im so sorry for your loss," the judge said kindly, "Do you need a
brief recess to compose yourself?" Chelsea sniffled and took a deep breath, then drew
herself up straight. "No, thank you your honor. Im fine," she said bravely, "Im not sad
for me. Im sad for Jenny. I only lost one mommy. Jenny might lose two. I cant even
begin to imagine how much that will hurt her." The judges face was somber, and he
nodded. Sam gave his attorney a look that said, "Do something, were getting killed
here." Miles Boyle gave a little shrug. Sam realized that hiring a gay attorney to thwart
Chelseas flirtation was turning out to be a bad strategy. Women, little girls and
mothering were outside Miles comfort zone, and anyway, Chelsea seemed to have
turned her attention to wrapping the judge around her long-nailed pinkie.
Sams turn to talk came next, but he knew he was sunk the moment the judge asked how
many hours a week he worked. Marybeth seized on it like an alligator, and by the time
she was done shed made Sam admit Jenny had been a latch-key child before he and
Chelsea married, and would need to hire a nanny if Jenny lived with him. She was quick
to establish that he could not afford one, given the terms of the divorces financial
settlement. Chelsea motioned to her attorney and Marybeth leaned to Chelsea. "Can you
ask the judge for a ten-minute recess?" Chelsea whispered. "What for?" Marybeth asked.
Chelsea cupped her hands around Marybeths ear and licked inside it with her tongue.
"Youre awesome, and I want you, now," Chelsea whispered. "May we continue?" the
judge asked. "Oh! Certainly your honor," Marybeth said snapping to attention, trying to
compose herself despite tingling all the way to her toes from Chelseas ear-lick and
proposition. "Folks, this is not the open-and-shut case I expected," the judge said, "I
want to hear from little Jenny. Ill caution you not to try influencing her testimony in any
way. Ive been doing this a long, long time and believe me, I can tell when a child has
been bribed, intimidated, or coached. Court is adjourned until ten oclock tomorrow
morning." He banged his gavel once. As they filed out of the courtroom, Marybeth took
Chelseas arm and said to her quietly, "If youre still in the mood, we could go back to
my apartment." "Im always in the mood," Chelsea laughed, "But I want to be home
when Jenny gets home from school." "Ok, your house then," Marybeth said amicably.
"Genevieve is making dinner for us," Chelsea said apologetically. Marybeths face
flushed. "You have a girlfriend?!" she cried. "Genevieves my BFF, since college,"
Chelsea said. Marybeth sighed with relief. "Maybe tomorrow youll come back to my
place?" she asked hopefully. Chelsea smiled coyly and gave a non-committal shrug.
Chapter 4…
The next morning at a quarter to ten, Marybeth saw Chelsea from across the huge marble
lobby at the courthouse, walking with a little girl in tow. She waved at them and hurried
to meet up. "This is my daughter, Jenny," Chelsea said. "Its so nice to finally meet you,
Jenny. Im Marybeth. Im your mommys attorney," Marybeth said, offering the girl
her hand. "Hi," Jenny said sweetly, shaking Marybeths hand. "Oh! My God!"
Marybeth gasped. Jenny looked to Chelsea with confusion and fear. "Your…" Marybeth
began, and quickly looked up at Chelsea and cried with despair, "Her nails!" Almost in
unison, Chelsea and Jenny grinned and gushed, "Arent they awesome!" "Dear God
Chelsea, please tell me theyre press-ons and just peel off," Marybeth implored her.
"Well of course theyre not press-ons! Theyre her real nails," Chelsea said, spreading
her own hands next to Jennys, "Fake nails are like, eeeuuuww!" Marybeth took a series
of deep breaths as though trying to ward off a panic attack. "Ok, be calm," she said
mostly to herself, then turned to Chelsea and said, "Dont worry. Someone around here
must have a set of nail clippers. We still have a few minutes to get those…talons…cut."
Jenny turned to Chelsea and screamed, "Mommmmeeeee!" and began bawling. Chelsea
held Jenny to her tightly and smoothed her long hair, soothing and reassuring her that
nobody was going to cut her nails. "Chelsea," Marybeth protested, "Like pretty much
everyone else, we have to assume the judge believes that long fingernails are age-
inappropriate on an eleven year-old, and hell doubt your parental judgment." "Well then
hes a dork," Chelsea replied. "Be that as it may, hes the one to decide whether you get
custody or not," Marybeth observed. Jenny sobbed into Chelseas embrace, "Mommy
please, please dont let them cut my nails. Please!" "Nobody is going to cut even a sliver
of your awesome nails, baby," Chelsea assured her. Marybeth held her head in her
hands and rubbed her temples in frustration. Just then the judges clerk, a skinny middle-
aged woman, emerged and summoned them. "His honor wishes to interview the child in
his chambers rather than in open court," the clerk said. She stopped Chelsea and
Marybeth at the door. "His honor wishes to interview the child without her parents or
their attorneys present," she said, "I shall be there to chaperone the interview, along with
the court reporter." "Just be yourself, Jenny, and dont worry if the judge will like you,"
Marybeth counseled. "Im not worried. The judge will love me," Jenny said with a
confident smile, batting her thick eyelashes and slowly combing her shockingly-long
nails through her silky hair. Jenny reached to take the clerks hand, and the womans
eyes popped when she saw the young girls fingernails. Marybeth closed her eyes and
rubbed her temples. "Jenny will do fine. She knows exactly what to say and do,"
Chelsea said. "Oh, no! Dont tell me you rehearsed her," Marybeth whined. "Ok. I
wont tell you," Chelsea said with a smile.
Inside the judges chambers, Jenny looked around at the walls lined with leather-bound
volumes, and then at the imposing gray-haired figure seated behind a formidable
mahogany desk. "Im Judge Lattimore," he said to her in a most kindly voice, "And you
must be Jenny." She nodded as the clerk showed her to sit down in a large, wooden chair
in front of the judges desk. "Do I have to call you your honor?" she asked, in the
uninhibited way kids have. The judge smiled. "No, thats not necessary," he said kindly,
"Id like you to think of me like as sort of a grandpa, ok?" "You look a little like my
grandpa," Jenny said earnestly, recalling Chelseas debonnaire, silver-haired father,
"Hes really handsome too." Judge Lattimore laughed, "Well now, arent you the
charmer! Thats the nicest thing anyones said to me in a while…even if it isnt the
truth." "It is the truth!" Jenny exclaimed with a serious look, "Everyone has to tell the
truth to a judge, or get put in jail! I learned that back in first grade!" Again Judge
Lattimore laughed, "You would be surprised how many grownups either dont know
that, or have forgotten." The judge leaned forward in his chair and folded his arms on the
blotter. "Im going to ask you some questions, Jenny," he said, "And I want you to know
that there are no right or wrong answers. Just tell me what you feel in your heart. Ok?"
Jenny nodded. "If it was up to you, which one of your parents would you choose to live
with full-time?" he asked. "Both of them, together," Jenny answered directly. Judge
Lattimore sighed, "Thats what I wish would happen, too, Jenny. But your parents have
decided they arent going to live together anymore. Of course they both still love you
just as much as ever, but I have to decide whose house youll live in, and whose house
youll visit on weekends and holidays." "Cant you order them to live together, so I can
have both of them?" Jenny asked. "Im afraid not," the judge replied, "And, you
wouldnt want them to live together if they really didnt want to, would you?" "I guess
not," Jenny acknowledged sadly. "This is really, really hard," she said. "I know, Jenny.
Its probably the hardest thing youll ever have to decide," the judge said, "So take your
time." "I dont need to take time," she said forthrightly, "If we cant all live together then
I want to live with Mommy." "Ok, I know how hard that was, and I admire your
bravery," the judge said, "Now Jenny, it would really help me if you could tell me why
you picked Chelsea instead of your father." "You mean, Mommy. Shes not just Chelsea
anymore," Jenny corrected him. Judge Lattimore made a notation on his yellow legal
pad. "Yes, Im sorry. I meant, your mom," he apologized, "Why would you choose to
live with your mom?" "Because shes awesome," Jenny replied. The judge smiled and
chuckled. "Isnt your father awesome, too?" he asked. "I guess," Jenny pondered, "But
not as awesome as Mommy. Nobodys as awesome as Mommy." "What makes your
dad less awesome?" he asked. Jenny took a deep breath and said, "My daddys great at
math and helping me with my homework and things like that, but when Im sad he tells
me not to cry, and then he talks about sports…like hes a coach or something. Mommy
explains to me why Im sad, and she says its ok to cry, but after Im done crying she tells
me that Im really awesome. And like magic Im not sad anymore." Judge Lattimore
nodded and made another notation on his pad. "And plus, I need help with my nails
every day, and Mommys the only one who knows how!" Jenny exclaimed.
"Your…nails?" the judge questioned. Jenny nodded and placed her hands on the desk.
Judge Lattimores eyes bulged when he saw her ten little fingers with nails a half-inch
long. "Arent they beautiful!?" Jenny gushed, tapping them on the glass desktop. "Yes!
Er, I mean, uhh, that is…well, theyre quite…that is to say…" the judge stammered,
quickly looking away from Jennys hands at his watch, "I think were done…I believe
were done…okay…Ms Saunders?" "Yes your honor?" the clerk replied. "Kindly escort
Jenny back to her mother," he requested brusquely. "I never scratch anyone with them,"
Jenny said. "Uhh…Im sorry?" the judge said, still looking at his watch. "My nails,"
Jenny said, "I never scratch anybody with them. Or myself. I figured I should tell you,
because some grownups say that my nails are dangerous. But theyre not. Ok?"
"Uhhh…ok," the judge replied uneasily, looking furtively at everything in the room
except Jenny. The clerk held out her hand to Jenny, who slid off the large chair, but
before turning away she walked around the side of the huge desk and held out her hand to
the judge. "It was so nice to meet you," she said with a haunting smile. "Yes. You too,"
the judge replied, shuffling papers around in front of him. Jenny stood there with her
hand out, looking up at him. Finally he shook her hand. She held his hand in her little
grasp, looking into his eyes that were darting to and fro, and placed her other hand on top
of his warmly, resting her very long nails on his weathered skin. "Please let me live with
Mommy," she said, letting go slowly, her nails trailing gently across his hand. Then she
turned slowly, and followed the clerk toward the door. "Your honor, shall I tell the
bailiff to call the court into session now?" the clerk asked. "Uhh…give me five minutes,
I need to…freshen up," he said blotting his brow with a white linen handkerchief, "Make
it ten minutes." "Yes, your honor," the clerk said, with slight uneasiness in her voice.
When the clerk had come take Jenny in to see the judge, Marybeth wrung her hands and
fiddled anxiously with her watch. "I need to use the ladies room," she said to Chelsea.
"Ok, Ill go with you," Chelsea smiled. Once inside the restroom, Chelsea observed,
"You look tense." "Tense doesnt even begin to describe how I feel," Marybeth replied,
opening the door to the stall. "I know what will help," Chelsea smiled, pushing inside
with her, and locking the door behind them. "What are you doing…?" Marybeth began,
but the rest of her thoughts evaporated as soon as she felt Chelseas soft lips on hers, and
the tug of long fingernails on her panties. She brought Marybeth to a climax standing
up, and then let her slip limply onto the seat. "Youre the most amazing woman Ive ever
known," the fortyish attorney gushed. "Yes," Chelsea said, pulling her skirt up and
lifting one leg to rest her high-heel against the back wall above Marybeths shoulder,
"And now its your turn to be amazing." Marybeth looked slightly shocked that although
Chelsea was dressed conservatively for court, she wasnt wearing panties. "Fingers or
tongue?" Marybeth asked with a giggle in her voice. "Tongue," Chelsea replied, "Those
short nails of yours just wont do it for me."
Marybeth exited the stall massaging her jaw. She gasped out loud when she saw herself
in the mirror, makeup smeared grotesquely, and her face dripping with Chelseas juices.
"I felt like you were going to tear all my hair out by the roots!" she exclaimed as she tried
to comb her style back into shape. Chelsea seemed annoyed, "Oh stop bitching. If I
didnt have to get back to Jenny I would of made you finish me." "Y-you didnt finish?!"
Marybeth cried with astonishment. "Duh! I only came twice. Thats like nothing for
me," Chelsea said, admiring her long fingernails, "Ill see you outside."
The clerk brought Jenny to join Chelsea and Marybeth in the hallway, just as Sam and his
attorney arrived. "Hi, princess!" Sam said to her, kneeling and opening his arms. Jenny
walked slowly to him and obligingly let him hug her, but she kept her arms stiffly at her
sides. "Cant I have a hug?" he asked, hurt. "Can I live with Mommy?" she asked
pointedly. "Jenny, sweetheart…" Sam began. Sensing a yes wasnt coming, Jenny
turned abruptly and walked back to Chelsea and put her arms around her waist. Sam
looked at Chelsea hatefully. She cast him back a triumphant look. "I did just like you
told me," Jenny whispered, looking hopefully for Chelseas approval. "And?" Chelsea
asked. With a big grin, Jenny gave her a thumb-up. Chelsea wiggled Jennys little
thumb playfully and kissed the half-inch thumbnail. "He acted weird about my nails, just
like you said he would," Jenny smiled, "Just like Grandpa does." "Thats awesome,
baby. Youre awesome," Chelsea whispered, with a satisfied smile on her model-perfect
lips. The bailiff came to usher them into the courtroom. The judge ascended the bench
and rapped his gavel. "Folks, as I said yesterday, this is a very difficult case. There are
good arguments for both sides," he said, "It all comes down to who will give Jenny the
most stable home, and who will be the best influence on her. After talking with little
Jenny, I feel that I still need some time to consider this case further. Court is adjourned
until ten AM tomorrow, at which time I will render my decision." The judge banged his
gavel, and descended from the bench back into his chambers. Marybeth whispered to
Chelsea, "I didnt like that part about the best influence. I really wish you had listened
to me about cutting Jennys long fingernails." Chelsea stared daggers at Marybeth, then
took Jennys hand and turned silently. "Chelsea, wait!" Marybeth said, walking briskly
to keep up with their pace. She whispered in Chelseas ear, "Listen, after you drop
Chelsea at home, why dont we get a drink…or something…to unwind." Chelsea said,
"Tomorrow we can celebrate winning the case." "I dont want you to be too optimistic,"
Marybeth said. "Im going to win," Chelsea said with a smile. "Ok, but…" Marybeth
began. "I always win," Chelsea whispered, patting her on the cheek, and caressing it
softly with her inch-long fingernails. Chelsea took out her iPhone and with a tapping of
long nails on glass, sent a text. She put her arm around Jenny as they walked. "I texted
Aunt Genevieve to come pick you up, ok? I have something I need to do," Chelsea said.
"Can we get pizza?" Jenny asked. "Sure. Anything you want. Just tell Aunt
Genevieve," Chelsea said. "What do you want on yours?" Jenny asked. "Oh…whatever
you get. We like all the same things," Chelsea replied. Jenny beamed. When Genevieve
pulled up in front of the courthouse, Chelsea let Jenny in the back seat. "When are you
coming home, Mommy?" Jenny asked. "Maybe late, baby," Chelsea replied. "Pizza gets
my nails all greasy. I need you to help me with them," Jenny whined. "Pizza grease is
like, a great moisturizer!" Chelsea said brightly. "Ok!" Jenny smiled. Genevieve
reached through the open car window and grasped Chelseas arm. "Chels! Where are
you going? What are you going to do?" she asked suspiciously. "Dont worry," Chelsea
answered. "Just dont get into trouble," Genevieve warned. "You know that never
happens," Chelsea smiled. Genevieve sighed and nodded. A parade of instances flashed
through her mind, of outrageously despicable things Chelsea had done and never once
been held accountable.
Chapter 5…
The sound of two quick yelps from the car alarm resonated off the concrete walls of the
parking garage, and all four lock buttons jumped up on the big Mercedes sedan parked
alone in the section marked "Parking For Judges Only". There were no other cars
around, and Judge Lattimore got in quickly. But before he could hit the lock button, the
passenger door opened and shut quickly, and Chelsea was sitting beside him. "Good
God! You scared me half to death!" he cried. "Im glad it was only half," she replied
with a smile. Regaining his composure, Judge Lattimore said sternly, "Chelsea, I dont
know what youre doing, but I have to warn you its absolutely inappropriate for you to
approach me outside the courtroom…not to mention that jumping into my car, I could
have you arrested and charged with assault." "Im truly sorry. Ill leave. I just had to…"
she began fearfully. Judge Lattimore interrupted her, "I know you feel desperate and
want to plead your case to me, but I assure you doing it this way is not going to help your
case in the least. Quite the opposite in fact." "I was going to say, I just had to meet you
up close. Jenny told me you reminded her of my dad. I just had to see for myself. She
was right. Youre strong and handsome and authoritative, just like Daddy," Chelsea said.
"I dont know what to say, except, Im flattered, but you really need to leave before you
say or do something jeopardizing," the judge warned, in as compassionate a voice as he
could muster given the situation. "Oh Id never say or do anything like that," Chelsea
whispered, resting her hand gently on his thigh…and making little toying scratchings
with her inch-long fingernails. She could sense him tensing every muscle in his body, his
face alternated between ashen and red, and his lips parched from the outpouring of
adrenaline. She caught him in her gaze and asked with hushed interest, "Do you like my
nails?" His mouth moved but no words came out. "Daddy likes them. A lot," Chelsea
whispered, bringing her other hand to his opposite thigh and stroking both of them
together with her long nails. "Y-y-y-you…g-g-g-go," the judge stammered in a hoarse
gasp. "Shhh, its ok," Chelsea said softly, reassuringly, as she slithered over the polished
wood console into his lap. "N-n-n-noooo…" he whimpered as she ran her hands up the
front of his shirt and caressed his neck softly with the tips of her inch-long nails. "I used
to sit on my Daddys lap like this," Chelsea said, ignoring his pleas, "I knew from the
time I was very young what my long nails did to him, and it amused me to watch him
struggle to deny his reaction. It thrilled me to stare into his eyes while I innocently
stroked and caressed his face with my nails…like this." Judge Lattimore trembled and
wheezed as Chelsea brought her hands to his face and slowly stroked her inch-long
fingernails over his cheeks, repeating it over and over, smiling. "Sssstoppp…." he
croaked. "Yes, I always stopped," she said, "No matter how exciting it was, no matter
how strong my curiosity got, he was still my father, and I could never cross that line."
Chelsea ran her fingers through Judge Lattimores silver hair and breathed hotly into his
ear, "But with you there isnt that line. With you I can complete the fantasy." Quickly
she swept her lips from his ear to his mouth and plunged him into her dizzying,
suffocating, warm-honey kiss. He could feel the power seat gliding all the way to the
rear, and then it reclined them fully. Chelsea undid his belt and her hand found his cock.
"Its a little soft," she observed, "When you jerked off this afternoon you probably didnt
think youd be needing it again so soon, huh?" Judge Lattimore gasped. Chelsea smiled
as she stroked and kneaded his cock, "You didnt think I knew you jerked off before, did
you? But I did. I know lots of things. Like, that you never in your wildest dreams
expected to ever have sex again with someone as young and awesomely hot as me…and
with amazing, perfect, long real nails." Chelsea gave his cock a gentle stroke with her
inch-long fingernails. She laughed, "Oooh, that got you hard in a hurry." Chelsea
lowered herself onto his erection. "My God!" he wheezed as he felt her steaming-hot
pussy contract around him tightly, as though she were gripping him with her fist. She
sucked his ear into her hot mouth and chewed gently with her teeth, and then put her lips
on his, licked them, and then gave him another long, suffocating kiss, probing her tongue
deep inside his mouth. Chelsea ground her hips hard and fast, pounding and gyrating like
a sexual tornado. The big Mercedes sedan bounced and rocked on its springs. When she
finally let Judge Lattimore up for breath, his face was beet-red and his eyes bulging. It
suddenly occurred to her that, at his age, he could drop dead of a heart attack. For a
moment she pondered the notion that she could actually kill a man with sex, and it gave
her a surprise orgasm. But Chelsea knew he couldnt very well hand down his decision
tomorrow if he died tonight, and remembered she was there for a purpose, not merely for
her sexual pleasure. So although she had only begun what typically was a long series of
climaxes, she decided to finish the judge. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear,
"I know what you want," as she slid her hands under him. Feeling her ten sharp, long
fingernails dig into his back, Judge Lattimore gasped and sat upright. "Ooooooh,
yesssss!" Chelsea moaned for his benefit, to spur him on, as she thrust herself in and out
on his cock, spreading her fingers on his back and raking long, passionate strokes with
her nails. The judge only lasted a couple of seconds, cumming with a comical squeal that
belied his normally dignified demeanor. "Youre welcome!" Chelsea said as she
dismounted. Judge Lattimore grabbed her arm. "I hope youre happy, young lady," he
choked, still struggling to regain his normal rhythm of breathing, "Now I shall have to
recuse myself." "Really? Again? Here, let me!" she offered cheerfully, taking his cock
in her hand. "Recuse myself means Ill have to step away from your case and hand it
over to another judge," he snapped. "Wont you have to give a reason for stepping
down?" Chelsea asked, still toying with his flaccid penis. "I could claim to be ill," he
said. "Or hurt," Chelsea suggested. "Hurt?" he repeated scoffingly. Chelsea said, "All
those fingernail scratches on your back." "Oh, well, surely I wouldnt…" the judge
began laughingly, but suddenly halted and stared at Chelsea, who was staring at him,
smiling. He turned red. "Thats extortion! You…you…conniving bitch!" he shouted.
"Jenny is mine, and no one is going to take her away from me. Ever," Chelsea said with
a chilling edge to her voice, and her burning stare made Judge Lattimore look down.
Chelsea leaned in and gave him a soft kiss. He felt her inch-long fingernails cup his balls
lightly, and he drew a ragged breath. Chelsea stroked his shaft with her nails and felt him
harden against his will. She hesitated and smiled, "Ask me nicely to recuse you." "P-p-
please r-r-re-recuse me…" the judge groaned. "Can I call you Daddy?" Chelsea asked
teasingly. "Anything! Anything you want!" he gasped as she gave his cock a tantalizing
stroke with her inch-long fingernails. "Thats right," she said softly, leaving wet kisses
on his neck while she began sliding her velvet-soft fingers up and down his shaft, "I get
anything I want."
Chapter 6…
Sam buried his head in his folded arms on the wooden table in the courtroom when the
judge read his decision, granting Chelsea sole custody of his daughter. Jenny jumped in
her seat, clapping and squealing with glee. Both attorneys looked across the aisle at one
another, exchanging looks of bewilderment at the outcome either one would have bet
against at all odds. Chelsea stretched her arms in front of her and admired her long
fingernails, merely a pleasant smile on her covergirl-beautiful face. She cast a glance
backward at Genevieve who was sitting behind her in the first row of spectators seats,
and winked. Genevieve rolled her eyes and shook her head in disbelief and awe.
Marybeth turned to Chelsea and beamed. "Well, congratulations. We won," she said. "I
told you I always win," Chelsea shrugged, checking her long, perfect nails. Marybeth
was taken aback by Chelseas blasI response, not to mention the absence of even a
passing word of thanks. She busily gathered up papers and shoved them into her
briefcase, watching jealously as Chelsea and Genevieve walked out arm-in-arm.
Out in the hallway, Sam approached Chelsea. He was wiping his eyes, unable to control
his sorrow and disappointment. "I hope youre proud of yourself," he choked. Sarcasm
always lost on Chelsea, she responded by rolling her eyes and saying, "Of course Im
proud of myself. Im awesome, and hot." "I wish to God Id never met you," he said
bitterly. "Youre saying that but you still want to have sex with me," she replied, casting
him a sultry look and sucking the length of her thumbnail. She watched his pupils dilate.
He hesitated a moment, and she smiled. "A goodbye kiss?" she asked, licking her lips
slowly and sensually. Sam felt himself drawn toward her. Miles, immune to Chelseas
charms, took his client by the arm and led him down the corridor. "My God, Chelsea!"
Genevieve whispered harshly, "You got everything you wanted from him. Cant you just
let him get on with his life?" "Like thats going to happen," she replied, admiring her
nails, "I mean, how can he go on? Hes had sex with…me!"
Marybeth hurried to Chelseas side and took her arm. "So Chelsea, now that the case is
over, what do you say about that little…celebration…we talked about yesterday?" she
asked with a sly smile. "Um…about that," Chelsea began. Marybeth felt a knot appear
in the pit of her stomach. She forced a smile and hastened to add, "Look, Chelsea, I
appreciate that you just got out of a relationship, and I promise I wont pressure you
to…" "Oh, its not that," Chelsea said, rummaging in her purse. Checking her makeup in
her compact mirror, she continued, "Maybe if you were straight." "Excuse me?!"
Marybeth screamed, but quickly blushed when she realized shed caught everyones
attention and they were all looking at her. She pretended to laugh, and she pulled
Chelsea aside and said in hushed tones, "That makes absolutely no sense. If I were
straight I wouldnt want to have sex with you!" "Sure you would. Lots of straight
women want to have sex with me," Chelsea said. Marybeth looked at her with utter
confusion. "They just need a little encouragement from me," Chelsea added. "Youre
saying youre not interested in me just because Im a lesbian?" Marybeth questioned,
completely flustered. "Well…um…not just that. I mean, youre also like waay too old
for me," Chelsea said. Marybeths face turned purple. "So why did you…why have we
been…I mean, what was going on between us these past weeks?" she asked with tears
welling up in her eyes. "It was something we both needed," Chelsea said, and added
pointedly, "At the time." "Youll have my bill in the mail," Marybeth said tersely, "And
believe me, itll be a big one." She turned and walked away briskly, but it was obvious
from her posture that she was crying. "Good God Chelsea, dont you have an ounce of
compassion?" Genevieve exclaimed in a whisper, "Cant you see shes in love with
you?" "How about having some compassion for me?" Chelsea chided her, "Just try
imagining what its like to have people fall in love with you all the time." Genevieve
bowed her head and shook it from side to side in futility. Her straight, knee-length black
hair shimmered, and it caught Chelseas eye. "I need to use the restroom," she said to
Genevieve, "Come with me, ok?" "Ok," Genevieve replied, not suspecting Chelseas
intentions.
Chapter 7…
On the way home from the courthouse, an exhausted Genevieve fell asleep in the
passenger seat of Chelseas Range Rover. She jolted awake to the screech of brakes.
"Whats happening?" she screamed. "You forgot we had to pick up Jenny from school,"
Chelsea said as she held up traffic in two directions making an illegal three-point turn. "I
forgot? Shes your daughter, remember?" Genevieve said. "Its so cute when you try to
be, like, assertive with me," Chelsea chuckled. "Im not trying to be cute!" Genevieve
insisted. "Thats what makes it so cute," Chelsea replied. Genevieve fumed. "And when
youre cute it gets me hot," Chelsea smiled. "Oh, no! Please, Chelsea! Not now! Not
again!" Genevieve gasped, putting her hands up defensively. "Know whats even cuter?
Its that you still havent got it that resisting me gets me the hottest of all," Chelsea said
raking Genevieves bare thigh playfully with her inch-long fingernails, and then grasping
it. "Ow! Youre nails are sharp!" Genevieve whined, then she looked up and screamed
as she saw they were drifting into oncoming traffic, "Chelsea! Watch out!" Chelsea
swerved back into her lane. "You almost got us killed!" Genevieve cried, trying to pry
Chelseas fingers from her thigh. "God, sometimes you can be so negative!" Chelsea
complained, letting go of Genevieves leg. "Yeah, everything is always my fault,"
Genevieve muttered under her breath as she rubbed the red half-circles Chelseas long
nails had left in her delicate white skin.
In front of Jennys school, Chelsea forged ahead of a long line of waiting cars and pulled
her Range Rover in at the head. Dozens of horns blared, and parents leaned out of their
car windows to complain. Chelsea opened the door and slowly swung her long, shapely
legs out, then walked equally slowly around to the curb, swaying her hips and tossing her
long brown hair. When the school doors opened, a burst of children ran forth, but Jenny
came down the walkway leisurely, surrounded by an entourage of girls, and trailed by
several boys. She waved excitedly at Chelsea, and Chelsea waved back. "Is that your
daughter?" a mans voice asked, "She certainly seems popular." Chelsea turned around,
sizing him up to decide whether to answer him or ignore him. Seeing that he was tall and
very good-looking, Chelsea smiled and replied, "She is my daughter. So, like, naturally
shes popular." The man smiled and chuckled, unaware that Chelsea wasnt trying to be
witty. "Im Dave Ralston…Im Heathers dad," he said offering Chelsea his hand. "Im
Chelsea," she said, letting her inch-long fingernails dimple his hand as she wrapped her
fingers around it and gave it a warm squeeze. "Wow, those are some nails youve got,"
he remarked with surprise. "Do you like them?" she asked. "Well, I…" he began, but
just then a little dark-haired girl came running up to him and tugged on his sleeve.
"Daddy, lets go!" she whined. Unseen by Dave, Chelsea glowered at Heather, who
ducked behind her father fearfully. Disgruntled by the lost momentum, but unfazed,
Chelsea recomposed her smile and asked, "So, Dave, are you a single dad?" "No," he
replied somewhat defensively, "What made you ask that? Because Im picking up my
daughter at school?" "Actually, I asked because it seems like youre trying to pick me
up," Chelsea replied. "I wasnt!" he insisted with surprise. "I know when a guy has the
hots for me. And FYI Im amazing in bed," Chelsea said. "Jesus! My eleven year-old
daughter is standing right here!" he gasped. "Hi, sweetie!" Chelsea said peering around
him and waving her fingers at the flabbergasted little girl. "H-hi," she said tentatively,
"A-are y-you J-Jennys mommy?" Chelsea nodded joyfully, "Howd you guess?" Little
Heather swallowed hard, "Um…Be-because of…um…your…um..." "My awesome long
nails?" Chelsea suggested. Heather half-smiled nervously. "So youre definitely
married?" Chelsea asked, returning her attention to Dave. "Definitely," he answered.
"Awesome," Chelsea whispered under her breath, then she asked, "So, like, what do you
do?" "Im a podiatrist," he replied. "Thats someone who fixes ugly feet, right?" she
asked. "Well…I wouldnt exactly put it like that…" he said. "Do you have a card or
something?" she interrupted. "Er, sure," he replied, handing her his business card, "Do
you have a particular problem with your feet?" She plucked the card from his fingers
with her nails and flicked it with her inch-long thumbnail. "Well theyre definitely not
ugly. In fact theyre awesomely sexy. Sometimes that can be a problem," she offered,
with a coy smile, and she turned and walked away. "Everyones afraid of Jenny, cause
she has super-long fingernails," Heather whispered to her father, "And whenever some
boy likes a girl, Jenny steals him away." "Thats nice, honey," Dave replied absently, as
he watched Chelseas hard buns churn under her thin, tight skirt as she walked.
Just as Chelsea was hugging Jenny, a woman in her late thirties came running up.
"Excuse me," she said, "Im Ms. Beckwith, Jennys phys-ed teacher. May I have a word
with you aside?" "Ok," Chelsea said, helping Jenny into the back seat of the Range
Rover and closing the door. "Is there a problem?" Chelsea asked. "Sort of," Ms.
Beckwith said, "Its about Jennys fingernails. Nails like Jennys are dangerous in sports,
both to herself and others. Will you please see to it they are cut back to a normal
length?" "No, I wont" Chelsea replied. The teachers face reddened, and she said
sternly, "Look, Jenny cant play sports with her nails like that. I can have Jenny
suspended until she cuts them." Chelsea stepped up to Ms. Beckwith and slipped her
inch-long pinkie nail under the thin gold chain around the teachers neck, pretending to
admire her simple crucifix. Ms. Beckwith glanced down at Chelseas nails and then back
up into her cold stare, and she swallowed hard. "Ms. Beckwith," Chelsea began in a
chillingly-soft undertone, "Some girls are meant to play sports, and other girls are meant
to be feminine. Jenny is meant to be feminine. She is not going to cut them, and she is
not going to be suspended." "B-but how am I supposed t-to…," the teacher stammered.
"Im certain youll figure something out," Chelsea whispered, never taking her gaze off
the womans eyes, and she stroked a single long nail slowly down the teachers cheek and
neck, "Are we good?" Ms. Beckwith nodded, and quickly lowered her eyes. "Ok then,"
Chelsea said, her face and voice transforming to cheerful, "Im so glad we had this
chance to chat." And she left the flabbergasted and thoroughly intimidated woman
trembling as she strode confidently around to the drivers side of her Range Rover and
got in. "I think I need a podiatrist," she mused. "What for?" Genevieve asked, puzzled
because Chelsea never spoke of her feet other than in superlatives. "To sharpen my
claws on," she giggled. "Heather Ralstons daddy is a foot doctor," Jenny offered
helpfully. "Yes, baby, we met just now," Chelsea said, holding up his card. "Chels,
thats not what that sign means by Pickup Lane," Genevieve sighed. "I hate it when
you get judgmental," Chelsea said, "Im your BFF. Youre supposed to support me."
"Sometimes I dont like you very much," Genevieve said. Chelsea reached over and
traced a long fingernail up and down Genevieves delicate arm, raising goosebumps and
leaving a white line on her skin, and she smiled and whispered, "But you always love me,
right?" Genevieve said nothing. Chelsea indented Genevieves arm with her long nails.
"Ow, youre hurting me," Genevieve whined, trying to pry Chelseas fingers away.
"And youre hurting me," Chelsea said, her voice breaking, tears flowing down her face,
"Say you love me!" "Ok! Ok! I love you!" Genevieve said. "I know," Chelsea said with
a smile, and let go of her arm. Jenny reached between the front seats and took hold of
Genevieves arm with her little but very long fingernails. "Ouch! Jenny!" Genevieve
shouted, "Your nails are like knives!" "Do you love me, too, Aunt Genevieve?" Jenny
demanded insistently. "Yes! Yes! I love you! I love both of you!" Genevieve cried,
then muttered, "Shit! My arm!" as she rubbed the scatter of red marks. "Mommy, Aunt
Genevieve said a bad word," Jenny giggled as she sat back in her seat.
Chapter 8…
"Ms. Larson? Come right in," the perky little nurse said from the doorway in the waiting
room. Chelsea put her magazine down and stood up. She tossed back her long brown
hair and smoothed her very short, tight black spaghetti-strap dress. Her legs were bare,
her feet perched on high-heeled black sandals with tiny rhinestones on the straps, her
toenails freshly-done in cherry red. "Just down the hall, the third room on your right,"
the young nurse said holding the reception door for Chelsea. As Chelsea walked by, the
young nurse eyed her up and down. Chelsea beamed with a satisfied smile and eyed the
nurse up and down. She met Chelseas intent stare for a moment, then the nurse blushed
and looked away. "Just have a seat, and the doctor will be in to see you in a moment,"
she said ushering Chelsea into the little exam room. Chelsea reclined on the patient chair
and crossed her bare legs at the ankles. In a few moments, Dr. Dave Ralston came
briskly into the room, his eyes buried in the chart he held. "How do you do,
Ms…Larson? Im Dr. Ralston," he said still reading the chart. "I thought we were at
Chelsea and Dave?" Chelsea said in her soft, alluring way. Ralston looked up from the
chart, startled. "Oh…uh…its…you," he said fidgeting with his tie and looking
anxiously at his watch. "Thats your bedside manner?" Chelsea asked facetiously.
Ralston laughed apologetically, "Im sorry, I just wasnt expecting to see you in my
office." "Where would you rather see me?" Chelsea asked with a coy smile. "Look," he
said closing the chart, "Lets get one thing straight." "Im very good at that," she
giggled, hiking the hem of his white coat with the toe of her sandal. "Chelsea," he said
sternly, brushing his coat back down and stepping back, "One, Im married. Two, Im
not interested in you. And three, this…you and me…its not going to happen. Are we
clear?" Chelsea smiled, "One, I like married guys. A lot. Two, you are totally interested
in me. And three, it so is going to happen." "Ok, Im going to have to ask you to leave
my office," Dr. Ralston said bluntly. "Before you treat me? Isnt that like, against some
kind of oath or something?" Chelsea asked with a hurt expression. "Fine. If you promise
to behave yourself, Ill treat you…as a patient. Nothing more, understood?" he said.
Chelsea nodded. Dr. Ralston walked around in front and sat on his rolling stool. "So
what seems to be your problem?" he asked. "You tell me. Youre the doctor," she said
with a sexy smile. "Youll need to remove your…uh…shoes," he said. "Of course,"
Chelsea replied cordially. She put one leg off to the side and sat up to undo the straps of
her other sandal. Her tight, short dress rode up, and Dave Ralston gasped when he saw
her wet, pink pussy gaping at him. "Jesus! Close your legs!" he said in a whispered
shout. "If I do, I wont be able to I take my sandals off," she observed innocently. "Did
you ever think to…Oh, I dont know…wear underwear to a doctors appointment?" he
asked facetiously. "I never wear underwear anywhere," she replied, catching his eye to
monitor his reaction, "I dont own any. I bet your wife always wears underwear though,
doesnt she." "Thats absolutely none of your…" Ralston began indignantly.
"Underwear makes it hard to be spontaneous," she observed, "And I know how much
guys like a girl to be spontaneous. You like spontaneous, dont you Dave?" "Look, just
close your legs and Ill get the nurse to come take your shoes off," Dr. Ralston said.
"Really? The nurse? How do you expect me to trust you to doctor my feet if you cant
even take my sandals off?" Chelsea asked with a grin. "Fine. Anything to get this
moving," Ralston sighed, unbuckling the strap.
"You should really trim your toenails," he remarked, brushing them with his thumb, "Its
not good to have them that long, they rub inside your shoes." "I dont wear closed
shoes," she said. "Never?" he said. "Never. My feet are way too sexy to hide, dont you
agree?" she said. "No comment," he said. "None needed," she smiled. He picked up one
of her feet and began to examine it, pressing and prodding, spreading her toes, bending
and feeling them. "I bet you dont ever get to touch such soft feet. Do you?" Chelsea
said, and brushed her other foot against his hand, curling her toes and stroking with her
toenails. "Stop that!" he exclaimed quickly. "Well, if you insist," she said, withdrawing
her foot slowly and drawing it up against her opposite calf to her knee. Dr. Ralston
glanced up, and there was her pussy staring at him again. "Leg down," he said tersely.
"How did you know it was up?" she asked, but before he could answer she sniffed the air
quickly and giggled, "Oh." "I really cant see anything wrong with your feet at all," Dr.
Ralston began. "There isnt anything wrong with them. Theyre absolutely perfect,"
Chelsea said, "And thats the problem." "Im afraid I dont understand," Dr. Ralston
stated. "I think you do," she said, "In fact, I know you do. I suspected it the moment
you held my foot in your hands…and I confirmed it when I stroked you with my toenails,
the way you reacted…yelled at me to stop. You were terrified I would discover, but it
was too late. I already did." "I…I dont know what youre talking about," Dr. Ralston
said defiantly. "You so know," Chelsea smiled, "Youre sweating, and your heart is
pounding. Its okay Dave, really. Im not, like, weirded-out or anything. In fact, it turns
me on." "I think…I think you should go," Dr. Ralston said, composing himself in his
most professional manner. "Oh, Dave, we both know thats not what you want," Chelsea
purred, and she put her feet on his hands and rubbed gently in circles with her toes.
"Your hands are shaking," Chelsea observed, "In fact, your whole body is trembling.
Here, I can help." Chelsea grabbed his face between the soles of her feet. "What are you
doing?" he demanded, grabbing her ankles and trying with all his might to pry her legs
apart, but unable to budge them. "My legs are awesomely strong. Can you imagine them
wrapped around you?" she asked in a seductive undertone. "Let go of me right now!"
Ralston growled. "Fine! God! Like, what a party-pooper!" she said rolling her eyes, and
shoved him back. Propelled backward on his chair, he slammed into the wall and slid
off, banging his head on the counter. "Shit!" he grumbled, rubbing his head and trying to
get off the ground. "Ohmygod! Im like, soooo sorry!" Chelsea exclaimed, rushing to
his aid. Down on her knees, stroking his head, she apologized, "I didnt mean to push
you so hard. Honest. Sometimes I dont know my own strength." "Look, just let me
up!" he whined. "I was just being playful. Please say you forgive me," she begged,
peppering his face with little kisses. "Yes. Anything. Just please get out of my office.
Get out of my life!" he cried. "You dont mean that," she said softly, her little kisses
slowing and becoming wetter and more lingering. "Yes I do!" he whined. "No. You
dont," Chelsea whispered, stroking his face and neck with her inch-long fingernails, and
she sealed her lips on his. Dr. Dave Ralston felt as though the earth had begun to spin at
break-neck speed, his thoughts became jumbled, his muscles weak. It felt like he was
going under, drowning in Chelseas warm honey kiss. "Why are you doing this to me?"
he gasped weakly. "Because I want to," she replied, and just before she sealed her lips
over his mouth again she added, "And because you want me to." When his head stopped
spinning again, somehow he was on top of her on the reclined exam chair. He could hear
the sound of his zipper, feel the sharpness of her long fingernails on his testicles, the
warmth of her hand on his rock-hard dick…guiding it gently…feeling it being swallowed
inside the wet heat of her pussy. Still another intoxicating kiss rendered him helpless to
resist. He felt her inch-long nails stroke his back passionately. He could barely breathe
within the crushing grip of her toned legs. He could feel sharp sensations scratching up
and down the backs of his legs in cadence with their mutual thrusting, and it was driving
him completely insane with lust. For a moment Chelsea broke their kiss and whispered
knowingly, "You dont still want me to cut my toenails, do you." And then she quickly
resumed her suffocating, dizzying kiss. After she had climaxed several times, she let
him cum, and then she flipped him over sprawled on his back, his clothes and white coat
half-off and his hair matted with sweat, and she stepped off. Chelsea straightened her
short black dress and ran her long nails through her hair, and suddenly she looked as
together as when shed arrived. Dangling her strappy sandals from one long-nailed finger
she smiled at the exhausted, gasping Ralston and said, "I told you it was going to happen.
I never lie. Oh…and, youre welcome!" Chelsea slipped her sandals on and strutted out
to the reception desk. "I need to make an appointment for next week at the same time,"
she said to the receptionist. "You need to come again?" the receptionist asked. "No Im
ok for now," Chelsea replied. The receptionist gave her a puzzled look. "Let me ask the
doctor about the charges for today," the receptionist said, moving on. "Im sure its quid
pro quo," Chelsea said with a smile. Again the receptionist gave her a puzzled look.
"Thats Latin. It means, you scratch my back and Ill scratch yours. Except that I do
all the scratching," Chelsea laughed, displaying her ten perfect, inch-long natural
fingernails as she turned and walked out.
Chapter 9…
The inky-blue late-evening sky was clear and strewn with stars, and a soft, warm breeze
wafted across the poolside patio. Genevieve sat on the edge of a chaise lounge, barefoot
in a t-shirt and cut-offs, brushing her knee-length black hair, while Chelsea reclined on
another lounge in a tiny thong bikini, gently shaping and buffing her perfect inch-long
natural fingernails. Little Jenny sat with her legs folded in a beanbag chair reading her
homework. There was no conversation, just the sound of Genevieves hairbrush,
Chelseas emery board, the intermittent turn of a page, and the occasional snap of Jenny
absently picking her toenails. "Sweetie, dont do that," Chelsea said softly, "Thats how
you can chip one." Jenny looked at her toenails, which were slightly long like Chelseas
whom she idolized, and clasped her book with both hands. "I wont ever again, I
promise," she said. "When youre done with your homework, Aunt Genevieve will brush
your hair," Chelsea volunteered cheerfully. "Awesome!" Jenny squealed. Genevieve
glanced up at Chelsea, annoyed. "Aunt Genevieves the best at hair," Chelsea said
brightly to Jenny, while staring daggers at Genevieve until the delicate young woman
lowered her eyes. Then Chelsea added, "But Im the best at everything else." Jenny
closed her book and stood up, stretching. She padded barefoot across the tiles to
Genevieves lounge and sat down between her legs with a silent air of entitlement. With
obedient resignation Genevieve stopped brushing her own hair and began making slow
brush strokes through Jennys. After a few moments Jenny yawned and leaned back,
resting sideways against Genevieve. As Genevieve continued her slow, rhythmic
brushing, she could feel Jenny growing heavier. "Youre falling asleep. How about
going upstairs to bed?" Genevieve asked hopefully. "Nuh uh, its not my bedtime yet,"
Jenny said burying her face in Genevieves neck with a deep, contented sigh. Chelsea
held up her iPhone and took a picture of them. "You two are so cute," she said.
Genevieve rolled her eyes. "Jenny, come on, go to bed," Genevieve whispered. "Why?
Am I squishing your boobies?" Jenny asked sweetly, lazily tracing her little half-inch
long index fingernail in a circle around the tiny bump that was Genevieves breast.
Chelsea clapped her hands together and rocked with laughter. "Its not funny!"
Genevieve said insistently. "Its like, hysterically funny!" Chelsea laughed. She
admonished Jenny with obvious pretend-seriousness, "Jenny, apologize to Aunt
Genevieve for making fun of her itty bitty boobies." "Im sorry for making fun of your
itty-bitty boobies Aunt Genevieve," Jenny said with obvious pretend-sincerity.
Genevieve scowled, peeved that her flat-chestedness was the subject of amusement for an
eleven year-old. But at that moment Jenny turned her face up to Genevieve and said
quite sincerely, "I love you Aunt Genevieve," and gave her cheek a long, wet kiss while
stroking the other cheek gently with her very long fingernails. "Um..I..love you too,"
Genevieve replied with the uneasiness of someone embarrassed by the involuntary
triggering of her maternal instinct. She prayed the little girl would now go contentedly to
bed. But Jenny merely put both arms around Genevieves neck and turned her face into
her, closed her eyes, and once again grew heavy. Jenny put one bare foot up on
Genevieves leg, and Genevieve winced from the prick of Jennys sharp toenails.
Genevieve looked pleadingly at Chelsea, who rolled her eyes and grudgingly got off her
lounge chair and ushered Jenny off to bed. "Thanks," Genevieve said stretching, "I think
Ill go to bed too." She noticed Chelsea looking at her intently, and it made Genevieve
look down at herself. The heat from Jennys body against her had made her perspire and
her thin t-shirt was soaked and revealing, and the sudden cooling of the breeze had
caused her nipples to stand out like bullets. "Oh god," Genevieve whined, knowing what
the sight of them did to Chelsea. In a heartbeat her t-shirt was up, and Chelseas lips
were fastened around first one nipple and then the other. "Youve got the hugest nips,"
Chelsea said with a breathy sigh, between sucking, "Especially considering how small
your…" "Yes, Chelsea," Genevieve interrupted with annoyance, "Can we please not talk
about my flat chest anymore tonight?" "Come for a midnight swim with me," Chelsea
demanded. "Chels, you know I hate the water!" Genevieve stated, instantly cursing
herself for not remembering that resisting Chelsea only made her hornier. "But you love
me," Chelsea said, and before Genevieve could respond she scooped her up and dove
with her into the deep end. Their heads popped up, Chelsea laughing and shaking her wet
hair off her face, Genevieve spluttering and thrashing, tangled in her several feet of wet
black hair. "Damn it Chelsea, I just brushed my hair! And Im in my clothes!"
Genevieve whined. "Easily fixed," Chelsea smiled, working one hand into Genevieves
shorts and panties while pulling her t-shirt off with the other. "Dont let me drown!"
Genevieve exclaimed terrified. "I never did before, did I?" Chelsea reminded her, just as
she let go of Genevieve in order to slip out of her bikini. "Chelsea!" Genevieve screamed
as she went under. Laughing, Chelsea grabbed Genevieve around her waist and
propelled her above the surface. "This is not my idea of a good time!" Genevieve
exclaimed angrily, coughing out water. "Well then, lets try something else," Chelsea
said with a sudden look of lust, and she wrapped her arms and legs around Genevieves
little body and gave her such a driving kiss that Genevieve felt as though she was caught
in a whirlpool. Chelsea paddled them to the edge of the pool, still engaging Genevieve
in her dizzying kiss. She penetrated Genevieve with her fingers, working her little bud
between her inch-long thumbnail and the others. "Do me! Do me with your nails! "
Chelsea demanded, crowding Genevieve against the side of the pool as her sexual fervor
mounted. "Ow! The tiles are digging into my back!" Genevieve whined. "So learn to
swim so we can do it in the middle," Chelsea snapped unsympathetically, annoyed that
Genevieve had interrupted her ascent to orgasm, and resumed thrusting her hips against
her. "Owww! I mean it, Chelsea! Im going to be all black-and-blue!" Genevieve cried.
"Like, god, it always has to be about you!" Chelsea huffed. Genevieve gasped at the
immense irony of that statement. "Ok, fine, whatever," Chelsea snipped petulantly, and
she hoisted herself quickly out of the pool. Genevieve screeched, splashing and trying to
pull herself out of the pool, but unable to get a grip on the slippery tile. "Chel-sea!" she
whined. "God youre like, totally helpless," Chelsea sneered, then lifting Genevieve
under her armpits and scooping her quickly from the water she smiled, "But it makes me
want you like crazy." Chelsea held Genevieves nakedness against hers and kissed her
until her knees buckled, then she picked the small woman up, carried her into the house,
up the staircase to the master bedroom, tossed her onto the bed like a rag doll, and came
down on top of her, kissing her wildly and stroking her little body passionately with her
inch-long fingernails.
Chapter 10…
"Mommy wake up! Its after eight. Im gonna be late for school!" little Jenny exclaimed
urgently, tugging at the covers. Genevieve popped her head up suddenly. "Aunt
Genevieve?" Jenny gasped. Genevieve clutched the covers to her neck and went white
with panic. Chelsea tossed the covers off herself in a grand gesture and stretched like a
cat. "Hey sweetie. Aunt Genevieve kept Mommy up late talking and then we both fell
asleep and she forgot to wake me up," Chelsea said yawning. Genevieve rolled her eyes
at Chelseas facility concocting an instant lie and deflecting all blame even while still half
asleep. "And so Aunt Genevieve will drive you to school," Chelsea finished. "Cool,"
Jenny said, gave her long fingernails an admiring check, and then turned and skipped out
of the bedroom. "Great. Now Ill be late for work," Genevieve said, perturbed. "Always
about you," Chelsea reiterated. Genevieve held her tongue, knowing any retort would be
pointless. She sighed and stood up from the bed, but just then Chelseas arms went
around her waist and she pulled Genevieve onto her lap. "Just a wake-up quickie, I
promise," Chelsea whispered, nibbling Genevieves delicate neck. Genevieve closed her
eyes and sighed. She felt her fingers swallowed-up into the steamy wetness of Chelseas
womanhood, and held there in a vice-like grip. "Tell me you love me," Chelsea
whispered, raking Genevieves back tenderly with her inch-long fingernails. "Honestly
Chelsea, youve got me taking care of Jenny 24/7, why did you want full custody of her?"
Genevieve asked. Chelsea reached around and grabbed Genevieves thighs with her
nails. "Owww! Owww! Ok, I take it back! Stop it, Chelsea! Im sorrrrryyyy!"
Genevieve shrieked. "I said, Tell me you love me," Chelsea demanded urgently. "I
love you! I love you!" Genevieve cried, trying to pry Chelseas nails from her thighs, and
realizing it wasnt her question that had upset Chelsea, in fact she probably hadnt even
heard her. Chelsea moaned loudly and then sighed and relaxed the stabbing grip of her
sharp inch-long nails and kissed the back of Genevieves neck. "I came," she announced,
and then asked, "Did you ask me something like a second ago? I like, totally wasnt
listening." "I forget what it was," Genevieve said quickly, seeing the deep-red welts
Chelseas nails had left on her soft, white thighs and not wanting to risk angering her.
"Keep going, Im almost there," Chelsea moaned softly in Genevieves ear, thrusting her
hips to Genevieves fingers, "More nails. I need more nails. Yeahhh! Just like that.
Thats awesome!" "Mommeeee!" Jenny yelled from downstairs. "Im coming!" Chelsea
yelled back, then she whispered to Genevieve in between sucking on her delicate neck,
"And cumming, and cumming, and cumming."
"Im going with you to drop of Jenny," Chelsea announced, quickly brushing her
luxuriant brown hair and slithering into a short, clingy chiffon dress, "You can drop me
off downtown on your way to work." Genevieve was always amazed at how Chelsea
could go from naked and disheveled to looking like a covergirl in seconds. She was
much less amazed at how callously Chelsea cared less if she made her late for work.
"How will you get home?" Genevieve asked. "Ill manage to find a ride," Chelsea
replied, admiring her ten perfect long fingernails. Genevieve rolled her eyes. But as
much as she disdained Chelseas promiscuity, she couldnt help but be in awe of her
irresistible power of seduction.
Genevieve pulled up in front of the school, and Jenny bounded out of Genevieves Honda
Civic waving and calling, "Hi Heather!" Chelsea turned her head quickly, already
licking her lips in anticipation of seeing Heathers dad, Dr. Dave Ralston. But he was
nowhere in sight. Instead, she saw Heather getting out of a Prius, and a woman leaned
out of the drivers window and waved good-bye to her. A woman Chelsea presumed was
Heathers mom. Daves wife. She had flaming red hair, piled on top of her head and
secured with a scrunchee, as though shed done it quite hastily. Chelsea opened the car
door and began to step out in her graceful, attention-getting way. "Where are you going?
We really need to get downtown in a hurry. I dont want to get fired," Genevieve
protested. "Nevermind," was all Chelsea said as she shut the door behind her.
"You must be Heathers mom," she said to the red-haired woman. "Yes…Kathleen
Ralston," she said extending her hand through the window of her car, "Hi." "Hi. Im
Jennys mom. Im Chelsea," she said taking Kathleens hand gently. "Nice
to…meet…you," Kathleen said, her words becoming more halting when she glanced at
Chelseas hand. "Do you like my nails?" Chelsea asked with hopeful eagerness.
"Theyre definitely quite…um…," Kathleen hesitated. "Awesome?" Chelsea suggested.
Kathleen Ralston gave a polite little laugh. Chelsea forced a smile. "I was wondering,"
Chelsea began, "Actually, more like hoping…no, nevermind." "What?" Kathleen asked.
Chelsea bit her lip and looked Kathleen in the eyes with sincerity and replied, "Well…the
thing is, Genevieve---thats my BFF---is late for work, and if she drops me back home
she might get fired, and…" "Say no more!" Kathleen smiled warmly, "Id be happy to
drive you home." "Are you sure?" Chelsea asked. "Absolutely. Hop in!" Kathleen
answered. "Ok, thanks," Chelsea said brightly, and she sprinted around to the passenger
side of Kathleens Prius and plopped down in the seat. "Would you mind if I stop at
Starbucks on the way home?" Kathleen asked politely, and laughed, "Im practically
addicted to my morning cup of mocha-hazelnut." Chelsea laughed, "My addiction is
caramel latte." Kathleen glanced at Chelsea and smiled broadly. Chelsea smiled back
shyly. "I have an awesome idea!" Chelsea exclaimed, turning to Kathleen, "Weve got
this awesome coffee maker at home with like a gazillion different flavors of Starbucks.
Why dont we go to my place and we can sit out on the patio by the pool? Its way nicer
than Starbucks at this hour, all crowded and stuff. What do you say?" Chelsea put her
hand on Kathleens shoulder, bare in a sleeveless white top, and gazed at her with her
big, warm, hazel eyes. "Ok, that sounds nice," Kathleen said sweetly, in fact, almost
meekly. "Awesome," Chelsea sighed as she sat back in her seat admiring her inch-long
perfect fingernails.
Chelsea rummaged through the kitchen drawer and brought out two individual plastic
tubs of coffee mix. "One mocha-hazelnut, one caramel latte," she said smiling. When
the steaming brews were done, she ushered Kathleen Ralston through the sliding glass
doors onto the pool patio and motioned her to a chaise lounge. Kathleen held her skirt
and lay down, keeping her legs together demurely, aware and mildly uncomfortable that
Chelsea didnt take her eyes off her. She crossed her ankles and smiled politely as she
took the first sip of coffee. "Is it ok?" Chelsea asked. "Its delicious, thank you, hows
yours?" Kathleen replied. She spoke like someone trained from childhood in proper
etiquette, and Chelsea found it cute. "Youre a natural redhead," Chelsea said, more a
statement than a question. "Yes. Curse of the Irish," Kathleen laughed. "I think its
awesome," Chelsea said. "Well…thank you," Kathleen smiled, "I thought about dyeing
it some other color, but my eyebrows and eyelashes are red too, so my hairdresser said it
would look strange." "Do you have red hair…everywhere?" Chelsea asked with a grin.
Kathleen blushed, and giggled embarrassedly. "Ill take that as a yes," Chelsea said
taking a loud slurp of her caramel latte. "Im sorry. I must seem like a complete prude to
you," Kathleen said apologetically, "I come from a really strict Catholic upbringing, and
its still hard for me to talk about…you know…private things." "Genevieve says I
should learn to filter," Chelsea remarked. "I think your openness is refreshing," Kathleen
said. "Thats exactly what I tell Genevieve," Chelsea said brightly. "Sometimes I wish I
could be more open," Kathleen admitted. Chelsea smiled. "We can work on that," she
offered. Kathleen chuckled, but just then Chelsea sat at the foot of her lounge and began
to untie Kathleens shoelaces. "What are you doing?" Kathleen asked as Chelsea pulled
her sneakers off. "Opening you," Chelsea giggled. "I really dont…um…," Kathleen
wriggled anxiously as Chelsea ran her fingers over Kathleens feet. "What?" Chelsea
asked, looking up innocently. "I dont like having my feet touched," Kathleen said
almost apologetically. "Why not?" Chelsea asked, rubbing her soles. "Because theyre
ugly and stinky…I guess," Kathleen responded. "Theyre not ugly, theyre kinda cute
actually," Chelsea said sliding her fingers between Kathleens toes. "Thanks, but…,"
Kathleen began. "And not stinky. They smell nice," Chelsea continued, lifting
Kathleens feet to her face and burying her nose into the fleshy part just below her toes.
Kathleen tried to sit up and reach for her ankles, but Chelsea had her off balance.
"Theyre very soft, too," Chelsea said nuzzling Kathleens soles with her cheek. "Ok,
Chelsea, I really think…," Kathleen protested, "Oh my gosh!" Kathleen gasped as
Chelsea opened her mouth and slowly extended her tongue. She licked Kathleens foot
from her heel to her toes, and then sucked them one at a time. "Your toes go great with
caramel latte," Chelsea giggled, "Way less calories than a jelly donut."
"Please stop," Kathleen asked meekly. "Why? Doesnt it feel great?" Chelsea asked. "It
feels…embarrassing," Kathleen replied. "Is that why you wont let your husband do it?"
Chelsea asked. Kathleen turned beet red. "H-how do…how could you know about…?"
she gasped, shocked. "Lets go for a swim," Chelsea said quickly changing the subject.
"Ok, good," Kathleen said, relieved that Chelsea had let go of her feet, "Can I borrow a
suit?" "Oh…actually I dont own one," Chelsea said flinging her little chiffon dress up
over her head and tossing it on the lounge. Kathleen blushed and averted her eyes.
"What? OMG, do I have fat somewhere?" Chelsea asked with desperation. "No! God
no!" Kathleen cried, and stammered, "Youve got a…youre body is…" "Awesome?"
Chelsea suggested. "Definitely awesome," Kathleen admitted. "Come on, get
undressed! Last one ins a chicken!" Chelsea encouraged. "Are you kidding? Me? Swim
nude?" Kathleen exclaimed. Chelsea rolled her eyes, "Fine, keep your bra and panties
on. You can toss them in the dryer after. Now come on." Hesitantly Kathleen took off
her blouse and skirt. She stood, pigeon-toed, with one hand over her bra and the other
over her panties. Chelsea came and stood very close to her, and brushed Kathleens
cheeks with the backs of her fingers. She put her arms around Kathleen and hugged her
very tightly. Feeling Kathleen stiffen, Chelsea gave her a little kiss on her shoulder and
giggled, "OMG you really are like, totally repressed!" "Im not touchy-feely with other
women, if thats what you mean," Kathleen said. "I can fix that," Chelsea said softly,
and she began leisurely scratching Kathleens back. "Ohhhmmmmm," Kathleen sighed
out loud. "Do you like my nails?" Chelsea whispered in her ear. "They feel amazing,"
Kathleen sighed. "Your bras in the way," Chelsea whispered, slipping her hands
underneath and deftly removing it, continuing to scratch Kathleens upper back sensually.
Gradually she worked her way down to her lower back, and Kathleen sighed with
pleasure. She offered a momentary protest when Chelseas fingers slipped under the top
of her panties, but Chelsea made a long stroke of her nails up her back with her other
hand, and Kathleen sighed out loud. Chelsea stroked a foot up Kathleens leg and
hooked her panties with her big toe, and in a moment they were down around her ankles
and she stepped out of them. Chelsea took her by the hand and led her to the edge of the
pool. "I was right, it is red, too," Chelsea giggled, gazing at Kathleens snatch. Kathleen
covered it quickly with her hand and blushed.
"It feels great to swim nude, doesnt it," Chelsea asked as they floated in the warm, still
water. "Yes, it does. But I cant believe Im actually doing it," Kathleen smiled. "Stick
with me and youll be doing lots of awesome things you never thought you would,"
Chelsea smiled. "Thats what Im afraid of," Kathleen laughed. "Dont be," Chelsea
said, stroking a one-inch nail along Kathleens collarbone. Kathleen watched, and smiled
nervously. "Are you wet?" Chelsea asked. "Well yeah, Im in the pool," Kathleen
replied. Chelsea giggled musically. "Thats not what I meant," she said. "Huh? Oh.
Oh!" Kathleen exclaimed as it dawned on her, and quickly blushed a deep red. "OMG
youre like, so innocent," Chelsea laughed. "Im glad you think its amusing," Kathleen
said sarcastically. "Actually I think its sweet," Chelsea assured her, putting her arms
slowly around Kathleens neck, "And sexy." "Um…," Kathleen began, glancing around
furtively and anxiously. But all at once she felt Chelseas nails stroking her back, her
legs wrap around her, and those soft, tender lips envelop hers and draw her into a head-
spinning warm-honey kiss. It was as though Chelseas spirit had entered her mind just as
her fingers were entering her beneath the tranquil water. Chelseas long nails inside her
fondling expertly, sent wave after wave of pleasure coursing through her body as she
floated in Chelseas grasp. Pleasure like shed never experienced before. Exhausted, she
crawled out of the pool and lay on the cold, wet tiles, breathing in gasps. Kathleen felt
Chelsea gently help her to her feet, but then as if in a dream state, she found herself
accompanying Chelsea upstairs.
Chelsea heard "The Sound of Music" theme playing, and dragged herself out of bed
yawning. She looked at the clock, it was 3:30PM. Chelsea followed the music
downstairs to Kathleens purse laying on the hall table where shed left it that morning.
"Hello?" Chelsea answered sleepily. Dave Ralstons voice crackled from the speaker,
"Kathleen? Where are you? Heather called from school and said you never showed up
to get her." "Kathleens still asleep," Chelsea yawned. "Who is this? Wheres Kathleen?
What do you mean shes sleeping?" Dave Ralston asked excitedly. Chelsea stretched,
coming more awake. "Were at my house, Dave. This is Chelsea," she said.
"Chelsea?!" Ralston gasped, "Whats my wife doing at your house?" "I told you:
sleeping," Chelsea replied. "Why?" Dave asked. "Why does anyone sleep? Obviously,
because shes tired," Chelsea answered, sounding annoyed. "Let me talk to her!" Dave
demanded. "Wake her up? That would be so mean," Chelsea replied, with a hint of
coyness in her voice. "Look, I cant leave the office and Heather is stranded at school.
Wake her up and tell her to get over there!" Dave Ralston barked. "Chill out," Chelsea
told him, "Jennys got flute practice until four, and Genevieves picking her up on her
way from work. Just call the school and give permission for Heather to come home with
them." "Fine," Dr. Ralston huffed, then added, "Tell Kathleen to stop and pick up pizza
on the way home, will you? Obviously she wont have time to cook dinner." "I have a
suggestion. You stop for pizza and come over here, and we can all have dinner together,"
Chelsea said cheerfully. "I dont think so," he said gruffly. "Actually, I was basically
being polite by calling it a suggestion," Chelsea said coldly. There was a silent pause
from Daves end. Finally he asked nervously, "You didnt say anything to my wife
about…you know…did you?" "No…why? Do you want me to?" Chelsea asked
innocently. "No! Of course not!" he cried terrified. "I like extra pepperoni on my
pizza," Chelsea said, and she pressed "END". She padded back across the foyer,
enjoying the sound her bare feet made on the marble, and the way it felt. Upstairs she
climbed into the big, round bed where Kathleen was sleeping face-down, and ran her long
fingernails through Kathleens long, tousled red hair. She awoke with a squeak when
Chelsea warmed her ice-cold feet on her buns. "Hi," Chelsea said smiling lovingly,
running her fingers through her hair. Kathleen flipped over on her back, still exhausted
and a little disoriented. Chelsea took Kathleen by the ankles and sucked her toes. "No!
No more!" Kathleen groaned, "I cant take any more!" "Really," Chelsea smiled and she
pressed her inch-long thumbnails into the fleshy part of Kathleens feet just below her
toes. Kathleens body stiffened and shuddered, and she let out a long squeal, and then
she went limp, panting breathlessly. "I knew you had one more in you," Chelsea giggled.
Kathleen forced herself to sit up, and she gathered the sheet to her body. "What have we
done?!" Kathleen cried, her eyes filled with terror and remorse. "What havent we
done?" Chelsea giggled. Kathleen buried her face in her hands and kept sobbing, "Oh
god, oh god." "Funny, thats the same thing you repeated all day…only it sounded
different…more like Ohhhhh God! Ohhhhhhhh Goddddd!" Chelsea laughed. "This
never happened!" Kathleen snapped, "You cant tell anyone! Not anyone! Promise me!"
"Im the worlds best secret-keeper," Chelsea assured her. "And promise me it wont
ever happen again!" Kathleen pleaded. Chelsea brushed Kathleens red hair off her face
and stroked her cheek softly with her inch-long thumbnail. "Tell you what," Chelsea
whispered in her ear, "Ill make you one of those promises. You choose." Kathleen
gave her a pitiful, defeated look. Chelsea smiled triumphantly and leaned in to kiss her.
"Oh my god! Its almost four!" Kathleen screamed suddenly, "Heather! I completely
forgot about Heather!" "Chill out. Taken care of. Genevieve is picking her up and
bringing her here with Jenny," Chelsea said doing a quick touch-up of her inch-long nails
with an emery board. "Oh thank god!" Kathleen sighed with relief. "Thank me,"
Chelsea corrected her, "Im awesome."
"Yes, you are," Kathleen agreed, smiling. "Awesomer than the others," Chelsea stated.
"Others?" Kathleen queried. "Im not the first girl you slept with," Chelsea said
confidently. Kathleen turned pale. "How did you know?" she cried. "I didnt until you
just admitted it," Chelsea grinned. Kathleen said quietly, "Well, actually there werent
others, just one other. I went to an all-girls Catholic high school, and…well…I had
one adventure. " "But you liked it," Chelsea observed. "It was just experimenting. Im
straight," Kathleen protested. "Good. Im straight too. Want to experiment some
more?" Chelsea asked with a wink, dragging her long fingernails sensually over
Kathleens small breasts. Kathleen took Chelseas hands tenderly, and she looked her in
the eyes warmly. "Look, I love my husband, and Im very attracted to him," she said
emphatically. "Understandable. Im very attracted to him too," Chelsea laughed.
Kathleen laughed also, but in an uneasy sort of way. "Oh yeah, BTW hell be here in an
hour or so with pizza for dinner," Chelsea said matter-of-factly. "What!?" Kathleen cried
in a guilty panic. "We should get cleaned up," Chelsea said extending her hand to
Kathleen. With a look of hopeless confusion, she took Chelseas hand and followed her
into the bathroom. "Wow!" Kathleen gasped as she looked around at the huge marble
shower, and the adjoining jacuzzi designed to mimic a rock grotto. "Awesome, isnt it!"
Chelsea smiled. "You go first," Kathleen said still admiring the shower. "Ok," Chelsea
said stepping into the shower. Kathleen squealed as Chelsea grabbed her arm and yanked
her inside. "But lets try to cum together," Chelsea giggled as she pinned Kathleen
against the marble stroking her toenails up and down Kathleens leg and sucking her
breasts.
The tension and uneasiness at the dinner table was thicker than the pizza. Conversation
was small-talk and nervous laughter. Dave and Kathleen Ralston tried desperately to
avoid eye-contact with Chelsea, for fear some subtle expression or exchange of glances
might alert the other spouse to their infidelity. Chelsea sat next to Kathleen and across
from Dave. She made innocuous small-talk, at the same time with one hand under the
table stroking Kathleens bare thigh sensuously with her inch-long fingernails, and doing
the same with her toenails under Daves pant legs. They were desperately trying to
conceal their mounting arousal from showing on their faces, and Chelsea was clearly
enjoying herself. Every so often shed cast a subtle glance at Genevieve, who knew and
understood what was going on, to solicit her unspoken acknowledgment. Little Heather
felt desperately uncomfortable too, perhaps in part sensing her parents anxiety, but
primarily because she was fearful of and intimidated by Jenny, and the last thing she
wanted was for her parents to socialize with Chelsea. Genevieve felt very uncomfortable,
because she knew of all the intrigue, and by her silence therefore complicit in multiple
deceptions. Chelsea was having a great time, relishing being at the epicenter of
everyones emotions. She and Jenny both ate their pizza with a fork and knife,
explaining to the others the reason was to keep their long fingernails clean. But at one
point Jenny noticed Heather left a corner of pizza with a pepperoni and asked, "Are you
going to eat that?" and when she shook her head, Jenny reached across and stabbed it
with her half-inch index nail and slid the pepperoni off it very gingerly with her teeth,
explaining to Heather with an evil squint, "I have to be super careful not to cut my
tongue, on account of my nails are awesomely sharp." Heathers face turned ashen and
she looked like she was about to cry. Just then Chelsea chimed in with, "Heather, you
should grow your nails long like Jenny. Youd be such a pretty girl if you didnt have
boy-hands." Heather looked down at her hands. "My parents say eleven is too young for
long nails," she said, almost in a whisper, and suddenly realizing Jenny was eleven also,
looked up at her in abject terror. "Im sure theyll listen to me," Chelsea said to Heather,
but looking intently between Dave and Kathleen. Realizing her daughter was in the
crossfire, Kathleen interjected, "Heather loves the piano, and she couldnt play well with
nails." "Do you play too?" Chelsea asked smiling. Kathleen was relieved that shed
been able to deflect the conversation. "No, Im totally tone-deaf," she laughed. "Really.
Then how come you have boy-nails?" Chelsea asked. Kathleen reflexively closed her
fingers. "My nails are weak and break easily," she lamented. "I can help with that,"
Chelsea promised. Kathleen cast a quick apologetic look at Dave. "My husbands not a
fan of long nails," Kathleen confided. Chelsea gave Dave a sultry side stare, and watched
his Adams apple jump as he swallowed hard. "I think he might surprise you," Chelsea
said. Dave turned red and coughed. "Its settled then! Youll start growing them now. I
cant wait you to have long nails," Chelsea said with a sexy smile, rubbing her inch-long
thumbnail slowly against her equally-long middle finger nail, imitating the way shed
used them to fondle Kathleens clit. Genevieve sat witnessing silently, wishing she
could disappear.
After dinner, Dave and Kathleen quickly tried to excuse themselves and leave with their
daughter, but Chelsea wouldnt hear of it. Her subtle gestures with raised eyebrows
telegraphed the threat of dire consequences should they refuse her hospitality. "Why
dont you take Heather up to your room and play?" Chelsea suggested to Jenny with a
smile. "Ok," Jenny smiled back, engaging in a momentary exchange of telepathy with
Chelsea between their twinkling eyes. Jenny began to lead Heather toward the staircase,
and Heather glanced down fearfully at Jennys hand gripping her wrist daintily with her
extremely-long fingernails just barely indenting the skin, and she cast a forlorn, pleading
look back at her parents. "Lets all go in the family room, shall we?" Chelsea offered in
her best cheerful-hostess voice. "Kathleen, Dave, it was really nice meeting you…,"
Genevieve began, intending to excuse herself from what was a very uncomfortable
situation before Chelsea could stop her. But Chelsea grabbed her around her waist and
with a cardboard smile, whispered, "Oh no youre not." Chelsea escorted them to the
family room, her arm around Kathleens and Genevieves waists, and sat them down on
the love seat. That left the single stuffed chair directly across from them to Dave.
Chelsea pulled an ottoman in front of her and propped her feet up. "Come on, stretch
out!" she encouraged Kathleen, giving her shoulders an uncomfortably strong squeeze,
which she understood wouldnt stop until she propped her feet up too. Dave tried not to
stare at their bare soles, and Chelsea grinned knowingly at his discomfort. Chelsea
brushed Kathleens feet with her toes and said, "It must be great having your own private
foot doctor to keep your feet gorgeous and sexy." Kathleen scrunched her toes as though
to hide them, and she lowered her eyes anxiously. "They are gorgeous and sexy. Dont
you think so, Dave?" Chelsea asked. "Yeah, I do as a matter of fact," Dave replied. "Her
toes look really tasty, dont they," Chelsea said with a nod. "Stop it. Please?" Kathleen
said under her breath to Chelsea. "My wife is very shy about her feet," Dave said.
"Yeah, we had a talk about that today," Chelsea said, and turning to Kathleen added,
"Among other things." Kathleen blushed. "Dont worry, from now on shes going to let
you suck her toes any time you want," Chelsea told Dave brightly. "No shit?" he
exclaimed with eagerness. "OMG, I never said that!" Kathleen gasped to her husband.
"Oh," he sighed with obvious disappointment, then shrugged, "Its ok. Its no big deal."
"It so is too!" Chelsea contradicted, and turning to Kathleen stated, "Your husband has
like a major foot fetish!" "I do not!" he protested. "Oh give it up," Kathleen said
dismissively, "How stupid do you think I am? Weve been married twelve years. You
think I dont know?" Dave turned red. Chelsea laughed. "Wait a second, but how did
you know about it?" Kathleen asked Chelsea. Dave turned pale and started to sweat, and
he stared in panic at Chelsea. "73% of foot doctors do," Chelsea said without batting an
eyelash, "I was a sociology major. It was an educated guess." "Oh, ok," Kathleen said,
calming. Chelsea gave Dave a smug look and arched her perfectly-sculpted dark
eyebrows.
"Would you like dessert?" Chelsea asked, looking at Dave. Before he could answer, she
grabbed Kathleens ankle and although she squirmed, Chelsea had far more strength in
her arm than Kathleen had in her leg, and Chelsea effortlessly brought Kathleens foot to
her mouth and licked her sole. "Mmmmm, yum!" Chelsea giggled, smacking her lips.
"Here, snack away!" she said to Dave, offering him his wifes foot. "Stop!" Kathleen
cried, trying in vain to wrest her foot from Chelseas grasp. "Come on, let her go," Dave
said, casting a pleading look at Genevieve to intervene. Genevieve looked as though she
wished she could burrow down through the floor. "Im really, really sorry," Genevieve
said quietly, "But I know her, and believe me she wont stop until she gets what she
wants." "Yeah I get that," Dave muttered. Chelsea sucked Kathleens toes loudly.
"OMG, these toes are the sweetest!" Chelsea gushed, then chewed on the bottom of
Kathleens foot and moaned, "OMG, like I could just totally devour your amazing feet!"
"Please, Chelsea, enough!" Dave cried, "This isnt fun." "Tell that to your dick,"
Chelsea laughed, and everyones eyes suddenly fell upon the comical tent in his lap.
"Oh…Dave," Kathleen sighed with utter embarrassment. "Take one tiny little lick and I
swear Ill let go," Chelsea promised Dave. "No. She doesnt want it, so…," Dave
Ralston began. "Oh for heavens sake, do it already, will you?" Kathleen exclaimed.
"Honey are you sure?" Dave asked. "Im sure," she sighed. Dave smiled big. "Thank
you, Kathleen," he said, taking his wifes ankles tenderly, and bringing her feet toward
his face, slowly. He gazed adoringly at them, contemplating the wrinkles of her tender
pink soles, and the subtle curves and nuances of her marshmallow-soft toes. He was
about to realize a dream, a fantasy hed harbored with frustration for more than a decade,
and drawing it out was making it that much better. Dave inhaled the sweet aroma of
Kathleens warm feet and slowly extended his tongue.
"Mine first," Chelsea said suddenly, snapping his reverie as she swept Daves hands and
Kathleens feet aside with hers, and placed them against his lips. "I got Kathleen to give
in, so like, you owe me," Chelsea said. Dave Ralston looked at his wife with contrition
and guilt. "She doesnt mind. Do you, Kathleen?" Chelsea asked, staring narrow-eyed at
her. "Its…ok," Kathleen said submissively. "Awesome," Chelsea said. Embarrassed
by the presence of his wife observing, Dave gave Chelseas toes a half-hearted little kiss.
"Open up!" Chelsea giggled, and poked her toes between Daves lips. "Ouch!" he cried,
reeling his head back and touching his hand to his lips. "Sorry," Chelsea giggled, and
aside to Kathleen said, "My toenails are kind of long and sharp," then turned back to
Dave and said, "But they feel great on your tongue." Genevieve said, "If youll all
excuse me…" "Dave needs a neck massage while hes loving my feet," Chelsea
interrupted her. Genevieve sighed a protest. "Like, now," Chelsea said. Genevieve
frowned, but she walked around behind Daves large stuffed chair. "Scoot forward,"
Chelsea said to Dave, and she smiled cagily at Genevieve. Genevieve closed her eyes for
a moment and sighed, and then as Dave moved forward, she climbed over the back of his
chair and kneeled behind him. She leaned forward, and as she put her hands on his
shoulders, her knee-length black hair draped over him. She went to brush it back with
her hand, but Chelsea quickly shook her head no. Genevieve began to knead Daves
neck and shoulders, and he closed his eyes and moaned softly, losing himself quickly
under her relaxing massage and the luxurious, silken blanket of her hair. "Genevieve can
work magic with her fingers," Chelsea said, and Dave nodded. "And also she gives a
decent massage," Chelsea giggled. Genevieve rolled her eyes and blushed with
embarrassment. Chelsea stroked Daves lips with her toenails and said, "My toes are
getting cold."
Relaxed, and yet stimulated by Genevieves massaging and the drape of her hair, Daves
foot fetish surmounted his inhibitions. He lapped and nibbled and sucked Chelseas
beautiful, perfect feet and toes, and in moments she bit her lower lip and her eyes rolled
back as her first orgasm washed over her. Like a reward, she offered Kathleens feet to
Dave, and Dave began ravenously devouring them. He heard Kathleen squeak, and he
smiled, encouraged that she was finding it enjoyable. He opened his eyes…and they
bugged wide like saucers when he saw that she and Chelsea were frenching each other.
He watched Chelsea unbutton his wifes white cotton blouse, slip her bra up off her small
breasts, and then begin to pinch and stroke her nipples with her clear, inch-long natural
fingernails. "Kathleen!" he cried after hearing her moan with pleasure. Chelsea lifted
her head and said, "She agreed to give you what you want, now let her have what she
wants." "Kathleen? Is…this…is it what you want?" he asked sounding heartbroken.
"I…dont know," she sighed, "Im all confused." "Are you?" Chelsea interjected with a
dollop of irony, sliding her hand up under Kathleens skirt. As Dave watched Chelseas
shiny, inch-long fingernails disappear into his wifes pussy, he heard her moan with
undeniable pleasure and watched her expression of pure bliss, more than hed ever been
able to give her, and he hung his head. "Most guys would like, totally dig watching their
wife make out with another girl. Especially an awesomely hot girl like me," Chelsea
observed. Genevieve whispered to him, "Im really sorry about all of this." Chelsea
continued fondling Kathleen with her nails, until the red-head was moaning wildly.
"Keep doing her feet!" Chelsea ordered Dave, "You want to pleasure your wife dont
you? And plus, yourself." She reached out one foot and began to rub his crotch. She felt
him harden quickly, against his will, the way she liked it best. Overcome by his own
needs, Dave Ralston resumed licking and sucking his wifes feet. In moments he
watched her toes clench tight and felt her shudder. She went limp, and her feet suddenly
got heavy in his hands. Dave looked forlorn and frustrated.
"Dont worry, the funs only starting," Chelsea said with a smile, tracing an inch-long
nail seductively up and down his arm. She waved Genevieve to get up, and followed her
with her eyes as she went back to her chair and resumed observing, as she knew Chelsea
wanted. Chelsea sat next to Dave in the large, stuffed chair, and stroked his face with
her long fingernails. She began to undo his pants, and he grabbed her wrists and looked
at her with panic. He motioned with his eyes at Kathleen, who was sprawled with her
eyes closed, breathing hard. Chelsea gave him an impish smile, and continued freeing his
cock, cupping his testicles with her inch-long nails, and stroking the sides of his cock
with the sides of her long thumbnails, until she could feel he was hard as marble.
Smiling, she brought Kathleens feet together, with his erection between her soft arches,
and began to stroke. Chelsea stared intently at Daves cock, moving slowly through
Kathleens arches, and at her perfect, natural inch-long fingernails holding Kathleens
feet and making it all happen. She put her lips against Daves ear and whispered, "I
know you like this. Me too. " She gave his neck a sensual drag with her long nails, and
drowned him with her warm-honey kiss while she climaxed. They heard Kathleen mutter
and stir. Suddenly she sat up pulling her feet back, and gasped, "What are you doing?!
Stop that!!" "You mean, this?" Chelsea said swiveling around, grasping Kathleens
ankles and darting her tongue between her toes as she massaged the balls of her feet.
"No…I meant…I…ohhhh…..ohhhhhhhh…..ooohhhhhhh," Kathleen moaned, louder and
longer. Chelsea winked at Dave. "Or, did you mean…this?" Chelsea asked with a
devilish smile, and pressed her long thumbnails into the fleshy part of Kathleens soles
just under her toes. Kathleen moaned and squealed, and she began to flop like a fish,
faster and harder. Dave watched with amazement at Chelseas long thumbnails
blanching his wifes usually pink soles, her toes curled and clenched tight, her knees
pumping as though she were running, her flaming red hair tossing left and right, her
hands grasping at the couch pillows. And then she went suddenly, completely
motionless. "Kathleen?" Dave cried with worry. Chelsea smiled, "Shes ok, she just
passed out. It happens to Genevieve all the time." Genevieve buried her face in her
hands and muttered, "Dammit Chelsea." "I need to help her!" Dave insisted. Chelsea
quickly unbuttoned his shirt and sensuously raked his chest with her long, incredibly
beautiful clear fingernails. "You need to help…me," she said wrapping her arms around
his neck and enveloping his lips with hers. As the room seemed to spin from Chelseas
erotic kiss, he felt the steamy heat of her pussy slide over his cock and grip it tight, and
then the sharpness of her long nails grasping into his back as she ground her pelvis
against him in a slow, driving rhythm. With each wave of orgasmic pleasure that washed
over her, she raked his back sensuously with her inch-long fingernails. He felt the fiery
burn of her scratching, the heat of her pussy on his cock squeezing like a fist, her
relentless kiss intoxicating him and sapping his strength and will. His cock felt harder
than he ever remembered, the pleasure felt more intense than hed ever known, he was
right on the brink of exploding…and yet every time he was sure he was going to cum,
Chelsea brought him back. Subtly, and just slightly. Just enough. It was like she was
driving a car down the interstate, holding the speed steady with just minute corrections on
the pedal. Softly Chelsea ended the kiss, and Dave felt her breath on his ear. She gently
stroked her long thumbnail over his Adams apple, and her exquisite fingernails along his
cheek. "Cum for me," she whispered, sensuously raking his neck with her nails, "Cum
for Chelsea." Firecrackers went off in his head, and something like an electrical shock
wave traversed his entire body as he erupted in the longest, most explosive climax of his
life.
Chelsea got up and held her hand out to Genevieve, who reluctantly but obediently took it
and allowed herself to be led upstairs. They stopped by Jennys bedroom and peeked in.
Heather was lying on her stomach across the width of Jennys lace-frilled four-poster
bed, her face turned forward, breathing slowly and deeply, her eyes closed tightly, t-shirt
rolled up to her shoulders, while Jenny was making long, leisurely circles on her back
with all ten of her perfectly-manicured, clear half-inch nails. "Mommy, can Heather
sleep over?" Jenny whispered. "Sure, sweetie. Her parents are sleeping over, too!"
Chelsea whispered with a bright smile. Genevieve turned and banged her head softly
against the doorjamb.
Out in the hall, Chelsea peered over the railing and could see Dave and Kathleen still
passed-out in the family room below. "OMG!" she cried jubilantly to Genevieve, "I just
realized what I want to be!" Genevieve regarded her inquisitively. "A marriage
counselor!" Chelsea gushed, "Id be like…totally awesome!"
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
SEX, LIES and AWESOME NAILS Part 6
Chapter 1…
Her statuesque, model-perfect figure wrapped in a clingy silk robe, Chelsea walked in to
Genevieves bedroom in the former maids quarters of the house she won in her divorce
from Sam. The closet doors were open, revealing nothing but empty hangers. Shocked
and confused, Chelsea noticed an envelope lying on the nightstand, with the word
"Chels" written on the outside in black pen. She sat on the bare mattress and slipped the
tip of her exquisitely-filed natural inch-long thumbnail under the envelopes flap and
cautiously slit it open. Slowly she unfolded the letter, and then began to read:
Dear Chelsea,
I know this may seem cowardly, but you intimidate me so much it
was the only way I could do it. I cant live like this any more. I
feel trapped and enslaved. I want a life of my own. I want a
boyfriend. I know youll never let me have any of that, so Im
going away, far away. If youre truly my "BFF" like you say, you
wont try to find me.
I hope the contents of this envelope will convince you.
Genevieve
Chelsea shook the envelope and heard it rattle, and she turned it over against her palm.
There in her hands she held what looked like pile of purple press-on nails. But Chelsea
knew what they really were, and what they symbolized. She closed her hand tightly. Her
face got red, her eyes narrowed, and the nostrils of her perfect magazine-models nose
flared. She clenched her teeth in rage. Chelsea took a deep breath and opened her hand
slowly, again regarding the clippings of Genevieves long, real fingernails, the nails
Chelsea had so often forced Genevieve to use to finger her ever since their first meeting
in the shower of their college dorm. Chelsea carefully placed the pieces of Genevieves
long nails back into the envelope and set it on the barren nightstand. She spread her toes
and gazed at the elongated tips of her red-polished toenails. Calmly she opened the
envelope and took out the longest purple-polished nail clipping, and then she spread her
legs and closed her eyes and envisioned Genevieves waiflike body and knee-length
black hair, and she began to masturbate with the piece of Genevieves nail. The orgasm
was nothing like the ones Genevieve had given her, and Chelsea flopped back with a
frustrated groan. She took a deep whiff of Genevieves pillow, pounded it, and screamed
at the top of her lungs. Chelsea never had a problem making herself cry on cue when it
served her purpose, but now when she desperately wanted to weep, her tears refused to
come.
Chelsea heard a light tapping sound and looked up. Her twelve year-old adopted
stepdaughter Jenny stood in the doorway, drumming her half-inch long fingernails on the
jamb impatiently. "Mommy, tell Aunt Genevieve to hurry up or shell make me late for
school," Jenny said with the air of entitlement shed assimilated so perfectly from
Chelsea. "Shes not here," Chelsea said quietly. "Where is she? Where did she go?"
Jenny asked. "I dont know," Chelsea snapped. "When is she coming back?" Jenny
asked, beginning to realize there was something wrong. "I dont know!" Chelsea whined,
"Shes gone, moved out." Then she turned and buried her face in the covers. "Oh my
gosh, no!" little Jenny exclaimed, "Whos gonna drive me to school?!" Chelsea looked
up and saw only a look of annoyed entitlement on Jennys pretty face . She looked
around at Genevieves empty room, and at Jenny gazing with self-absorbed admiration at
her own long fingernails, and Chelsea suddenly felt ice-cold. "Jenny? Sweetie? Hug?"
she whimpered. Jenny rolled her eyes. "If I do, youll drive me to school?" she
bargained. "I promise," Chelsea replied with her right hand over her heart. Jenny sighed
and put her arms around Chelsea. Chelsea hugged her so hard Jenny could barely
breathe, and she could feel Chelsea shake with sobs. "Dont cry, Mommy. Its gonna be
ok. I love you," Jenny said softly, her freshly-filed long fingernails sounding and feeling
exquisitely sharp as she scratched Chelseas back soothingly. She left a wet kiss on
Chelseas cheek and as Chelsea felt the coolness as Jennys saliva evaporate she stared at
Jennys plump little lips. Chelsea turned quickly and buried her face in the pillow.
"Mommy, get up!" Jenny whined. Chelsea shook her head from side to side and pointed
behind her in the direction of the door. "You promised to drive me to school!" Jenny
cried. Her voice muffled in the pillow, Chelsea replied, "I meant it when I promised.
Thats all that counts." "I know," Jenny sighed as she checked herself in her compact
mirror and smoothed her smoky eye-shadow with her long-nailed pinkie, "Ill call this
guy I know, Heath. Hes like totally in love with me. Hell drive me to school." Chelsea
asked, "Are you sure his mom wont mind?" Twelve year-old Jenny shrugged as she
bounded out of the room, "Why would she even care? Heaths got his own car."
Chelsea jumped to her feet and re-tied her short white terrycloth robe as she ran after
Jenny. "Hey! Are you telling me youre hanging out with a sixteen year-old guy?" she
asked with astonishment. "No. Hes seventeen," Jenny replied. "Oh, thats totally
different," Chelsea said sarcastically. "Whats your problem?" Jenny asked, annoyed.
"Hes five years older than you!" Chelsea cried. "Hes got a car," Jenny said,
enunciating each word slowly as though to help Chelsea comprehend the significance.
"Hes in high school!" Chelsea exclaimed. "No hes not, he quit. School was boring,"
Jenny said with a shrug. Chelsea took a deep breath. "So, um, Jenny," she asked, trying
to seem off-handed, "Are you two…um…er…dating?" "You mean, are we hooking-
up?" Jenny responded while she applied peach-colored lip gloss. Chelsea took several
more deep breaths. Hesitantly she asked, "Ok, well, yes…are you hooking-up?" Jenny
finished applying blush to her cheeks and put the brush in her purse. With her face
completely made up, Jenny looked much older than twelve. It had been a source of pride
and accomplishment for Chelsea who had taught her how to do makeup, but suddenly she
found it disturbing to the point she wanted to rush at Jenny and scrub it all off. Jenny
looked calmly into Chelseas eyes and said with heartfelt sincerity, "Dont worry,
Mommy. Im still a virgin." But Chelsea felt not the least bit comforted, for she had also
taught Jenny how to lie with a straight face. Suddenly Chelsea no longer felt the same
exhilarated pride at having moulded her little prodigy into a miniature replica of herself.
Visions of her own past raced by in Chelseas mind, the trysts, the seductions, the
conscienceless things shed said and done to close her innumerable sexual conquests.
She thought about her own childhood and how shed cast off her own innocence as
though it was simply a chore that needed doing. A horn honked outside, and Jenny ran
for the door hollering over her shoulder, "Heaths here! Bye!" "Wait!" Chelsea cried
running after her.
Chelsea stopped briefly at the door and slipped her feet into a pair of black open-toed
mules with six-inch heels, and then trotted down the walk toward the beat-up old Camaro
parked in front of the house with the stereo blasting rap music. "I want to meet Heath,"
Chelsea hollered, in an indignant maternal tone that surprised her coming out of her own
mouth. Jenny turned around and stamped her foot. "Mommy! Youre embarrassing me!"
she whined, glaring at Chelsea. At that moment the drivers door opened and Heath got
out. He had a buzz-cut and a pencil-thin sculpted stubble-beard, and hollow round silver
earrings in both ears. Wearing a sleeveless t-shirt revealed his muscular arms were
completely covered with ornate tattoos from shoulder to wrist. The thought of him
touching her little Jenny made her want to kill him. At six-two in six-inch heels, Chelsea
towered four inches over Heath. He looked up into Chelseas warm hazel eyes, at her
cover-girl face, her long, shimmering brown hair. She saw his eyes travel down, and she
subtly shifted her shoulders to spread her terrycloth robe a little for a view of her
cleavage. She watched his gaze drop further, down her long, silky legs to her open-toed
stilettos. Chelsea flexed her toes, letting her slightly-long glossy red-polished toenails
sparkle in the morning sunlight. "Cmon Heath!" Jenny whined, taking his arm. "Those
are some amazing tattoos," Chelsea remarked, also taking his arm. "Uh, thanks!" Heath
smiled. He looked down at Chelseas hand on his arm, right next to Jennys, with nails
twice as long, and was instantly compelled to look up into Chelseas eyes. "Lets go!"
Jenny huffed. She got in the old Camaro, slammed the door and sat with her arms folded
and a frown on her made-up face. "Do you have any tattoos?" Heath asked Chelsea with
juvenile curiosity. "Do you like girls with tattoos?" she asked. "Yeah. I dont think a
naked girl looks really hot without at least one tattoo," he proclaimed. Chelsea said,
"Thats because you havent seen me naked. Except in your imagination. Yet." Heath
swallowed hard. "It mustve hurt to get all those tattoos," Chelsea remarked. "Yeah, its
supposed to. Its part of the whole ink experience," he said. "So then…feeling
something sharp on your skin gets you hot?" she asked indenting her inch-long
fingernails in his arm. "Uhhhh," he stammered nervously. "Im teasing," Chelsea said
with a smile, then changed to serious and warned, "Jennys very important to me. Watch
your step." "Oh I will," Heath assured her. "And drive safely too," Chelsea added
arching a sculpted eyebrow. Again Heath swallowed hard. "Hug?" Chelsea asked
sweetly, opening her arms. Heath giggled bashfully as Chelsea embraced him. She held
him very close, and he inhaled the scent of her shampoo, and felt the heat of her body
through his thin t-shirt. Chelsea whispered in Heaths ear, "Come back after you drop
Jenny off at school." She felt him tremble, and he tried to step back but she held him
tight. "Come straight back. I dont like to be kept waiting," she whispered before letting
go.
"Thats your mom?!" Heath exclaimed as he and Jenny drove off. "Sort of. Its
complicated," Jenny informed him. "She seems, uh, really friendly," Heath remarked
with a slight cough. Jenny seethed inside. She kicked off her shoes and rested her bare
feet on the dash, spreading and flexing her plump little toes, her toenails slightly long and
painted glossy red like Chelseas, glinting in the sunlight. Jenny reached over and
stroked Heaths forearm up and down slowly with the tips of her half-inch long
fingernails. "Im already late for school…a little while more wont matter," she said in a
mischievous undertone, inserted her long-nailed thumb in her mouth and withdrew it
slowly with a slurp and an innocent smile, watching Heaths eyes grow wide with
excitement. He saw a big-box parking lot and signaled to turn in. But then he took a
deep breath and accelerated instead. "Sorry, Jen. I almost forgot, Ive gotta be
somewhere," he said. Jenny took her feet down from the dash and folded her arms, a
petulant pout on her lips, and for the rest of the ride she sat scowling in sullen silence.
Chelsea heard a car door slam and smiled to herself. The doorbell rang, and through the
peep-hole she could see Heath standing on the front porch fidgeting anxiously and
looking around nervously. Purposely, she took her sweet time before opening the door.
"Come in," she said sweetly, twisting strands of her luxurious dark hair around her long-
nailed fingers. She could see Heaths pupils dilate as he gaped at her inch-long
fingernails, and she smiled to herself. Heath wiped his feet dutifully on the mat before
entering, head bowed. "Hi, Mrs…um…," he began. "Call me Chelsea," she said with a
sultry hush. "Chelsea," he repeated, blushing. She smiled and traced the tip of her inch-
long index-finger nail over his sculptured stubble-beard. "Do you know why youre
here?" she asked, as Heath verged on hyperventilating at the sound her long nail made,
and the feel of its sharpness. "B-b-because you asked me to?" he proposed hesitantly.
Chelsea shook her head, "Because I told you to," she corrected him, emphasizing the
word "told". Heath turned red and then pale. "Why do you think I told you to come
back?" Chelsea asked. "I…um…uh," Heath stammered, as Chelsea immediately turned
and began walking across the marble foyer. "Close the door behind you. And make sure
its locked," she ordered curtly over her shoulder. Heath slammed and bolted the door,
then hurried across the marble foyer to fall in step with the sharp click of Chelseas heels.
She opened the sliding glass doorwall onto the glassed-in pool, stepped out of her heels
and walked barefoot to a glass-topped cast-iron patio table where she sat on one of four
matching chairs with her long, shapely legs gracefully crossed to one side. "Sit and lets
chat a while," Chelsea said. Heath took hold of the back of the chair opposite her, but
she gestured at the ground by her side. He blushed and sat crosslegged on the tile.
Chelsea stretched her legs, and Heath stared at them. She looked at him and smiled, and
he blushed like a small child caught in an embarrassing moment. His lips were parched
from the outpouring of adrenaline, and he tried to wet them but his tongue felt like
leather. Chelsea leaned closer to Heath as though about to impart a secret. "Its ok to
look at my legs, Heath. Youre allowed," she whispered. Heath turned beet-red. "All
men look at my legs," she said, "I enjoy it." Heath giggled stupidly. "Do you like
them?" she asked. "Yeah!" he replied enthusiastically. Chelsea flexed her red-polished
toes. "Do you like my pedicure?" she asked. "I…um…guess, yeah," Heath replied
bashfully. Chelsea gracefully swung one foot over the side of the chaise lounge and
rested her toes on Heaths leg. "You dont think my toenails are too long, do you?" she
asked innocently, as she grazed them lightly and slowly back and forth on his thigh.
Heaths mouth fell open but no words came out. "Jenny and I do our pedicure the same
way. Did you notice?" Chelsea remarked. Heath nodded quickly and grinned, unaware
of being tricked into revealing hed been lusting over little Jennys bare feet, and blind to
the spark of anger it ignited in Chelseas hazel eyes.
Chelsea held up Heaths arm by the elbow. "I really like all your tattoos. I wonder how
it felt to have all that done… enduring the sharpness on your skin," she mused, then
slowly dragging her inch-long nails toward his wrist asked, "Was it…exciting?"
"Uh…uh…," Heath stammered with staggered breath. "How do you like my nails,
Heath?" she asked staring him hotly in the eyes. Before he could answer---not that he
was even capable of speech at that point---Chelsea cooed, "Mine are much, much longer
than Jennys, arent they." She put her lips close to his ear and repeated in a breathy
whisper, "Much, much longer," and dragged her long nails slowly back from his wrist to
his elbow, this time a little harder. "And sharper," she added, staring and compelling
Heath to stare as her nails scratched superficial white lines upon the dark greens and reds
of his tattooed skin. "I taught Jenny everything she knows about…well, everything,"
Chelsea said, and then whispered, "But its not even a fraction of what I know. In fact I
didnt even begin to…scratch the surface." She turned his hand up and scratched her
nails across his palm, and then along the inside of his wrist and up his forearm, watching
the perspiration bead-up on his forehead. "You look hot," she observed, a purposeful
double-entendre which confused Heath just as she intended. "Lets get in the pool,"
Chelsea said, gracefully shrugging the white terrycloth robe off her shoulders to reveal a
red string bikini top that barely covered just her nipples, which were fully erect.
"I…uh…dont have my trunks," Heath said weakly. She turned around and watched
Heaths eyes bulge and the veins in his forehead stand out as she let the robe fall to the
ground. "You dont need them," she said. Chelsea turned and walked slowly toward the
pool, heel-to-toe to accentuate her perfect ass and the feminine curve of her hips. At the
pools edge she stopped and bent forward to test the water with her fingertips, offering
Heath a view that left little to the imagination. As she stepped into the water she called
over her shoulder, "Are you coming?" Hearing no response, Chelsea turned around.
Heath was frozen like a deer in headlights. "I…I dont know about this…maybe we
shouldnt…," Heath hesitated anxiously. "Is it that youre afraid I might tell Jenny?"
Chelsea asked. "I dunno, maybe," Heath answered with uncertainty. "Dont worry. Im
the worlds best secret-keeper," Chelsea said with her most disarming smile. "I still dont
know," Heath hemmed. "Heath! Pool! Now!" Chelsea shouted suddenly. Startled,
Heath snapped to attention and exclaimed, "Y-yes maam!" and hastened to disrobe.
Chelsea bit her lip to stifle her laughter as she watched Heath hopping and stumbling
clumsily on the tiles trying to struggle out of his clothes as fast as he could. "Lose the
boxers, too," Chelsea ordered as he stood at the edge of the pool. "Right now?" Heath
pleaded. "Are you afraid Ill think youre too small?" Chelsea asked.
"No! I mean, Im not!" Heath exclaimed with defensive fervor, then less confidently
added, "I mean, I dont think so. But size doesnt really matter to a woman…right?"
"Aw, sweetie," Chelsea laughed, "Of course it does." Heath turned pale. Chelsea
reached out from the pool and stroked his shin with her long fingernails, and she gazed
up and at his boxers. "Seems you might be adequate," she said, "But theres only one
way to really know." Suddenly Chelsea grabbed him by the arm and started to pull him
down. Heath resisted but she yanked hard and toppled him into the pool. As he fell,
Chelseas sharp inch-long fingernails skipped along his arm. "Shit!" Heath cried, holding
up his arm and staring at the three long raw scratches her nails had left. Chelsea turned
pale and gasped, "Oh my god!" She spread her fingers in front of her and stared at her
nails. Then she breathed a deep sigh said reassuringly to Heath, "Dont worry, theyre all
ok. Thank god I didnt break one."
Chelsea embraced his waist and pulled him tightly against her hip. Smiling seductively,
she curled the tip of her tongue over her front teeth and licked them, and began to rub her
foot slowly up and down his leg. After the third stroke, she applied her toenails as well.
Chelsea scratched Heaths back sensually with her inch-long fingernails, and then stroked
them up and over his shoulders and up his neck and then held his face between her hands,
with her lips just a fraction of an inch from his. She tilted her face slightly and parted her
lips, and she pressed her long nails against his face and felt his shallow gasps of hot
breath. "You want to kiss me," Chelsea stated. Nodding quickly, Heath parted his lips
and closed his eyes. "Tell me you want me," she whispered, her lips just a hairs-breadth
from his. "I want you!" he panted. "How bad?" Chelsea asked. "Bad! Really bad!"
Heath cried. "Bad enough to forget all about Jenny?" she asked. "Whos Jenny?" he
asked with a grin. Chelsea grinned back at him. "So we have an understanding?"
Chelsea asked. "Sure. Whatever you want, you got it," Heath answered eagerly. "Thats
so true," Chelsea sighed, giving Heath a warm kiss on his cheek. "Whens your
birthday?" she asked. "In a couple months. Why?" Heath panted impatiently. "Well
duh! We cant have sex until youre eighteen," Chelsea said. "Are you fucking kidding
me? Come on! Whos gonna know?" Heath pleaded. Chelsea nuzzled her soft cheek
against his and said softly, "Me. And the guilt would eat at me." "Cant you at least…I
dunno…give me a blowjob?" he whined. Chelsea genuflected and laughed, "I dont go
down on guys. Guys go down on me." "Ok, well, a handjob? Please?!" he begged.
Chelsea lifted a hand from the water and posed her fingers slowly, allowing the droplets
to trickle from the tips of her exquisitely-shaped inch-long fingernails. "Youd like that
wouldnt you," she surmised. "Fuck yeah I would!" he responded eagerly. Chelsea gave
him a sympathetic pout and playfully poked a fingernail around in his navel. "On your
birthday," she said breathily, and teasingly stroked her pinkie nail just under the waist of
his boxers. "Fuck," Heath grumbled. "I know youll be masturbating to the thought of
me every chance you get from now on, and that really turns me on," Chelsea informed
him, as though it should be consolation for the blue balls shed left him with. Heath gave
her his most-pitiable look, but Chelsea just patted his cheek and said, "Its time for you to
go." In the interest of her promise for his eighteenth birthday, Heath stifled the urge to
call Chelsea a filthy name, and instead silently climbed out of the pool, his boxers
stretched comically. After watching Heath towel himself dry and got dressed, Chelsea
then came slowly out of the pool. Heath stared at her perfect body, and watched the
water droplets fall from the tips of her incredible inch-long fingernails. "Remember,
Heath, if you want me you have to stay away from Jenny," she said coldly, "No calling,
texting, I.M.-ing, tweeting…nothing." "I wont. I swear!" he said. "Ill know if you
cheat on me," Chelsea warned him. "And you promise well do it on my birthday?" he
asked to confirm. Chelsea put her hand over her heart, gratified by Heaths lusty stare at
her breasts and nails, and said earnestly, "I promise, baby." With a silly, lovestruck
smile, Heath waved and walked away. Chelsea whispered to herself, "I meant it when I
promised. Thats what counts."
Chapter 2…
Chelsea lay down on the lounge and picked up her nail buffer and began to lovingly
refresh the sheen on her perfect, natural inch-long fingernails. As she gazed admiringly
at them, she felt a familiar tingle in her loins begin to grow, and in seconds it had already
ascended beyond the point of return. She masturbated herself to orgasm, but it only left
her hornier. The urgent need for a sexual conquest made her frantic, and she ran quickly
upstairs and slipped into a tight t-shirt and a short denim skirt. She wore no panties, in
fact she didnt even own any. A little mascara, some lip-gloss, and Chelsea dashed
downstairs. She poked her head out the front door, scanning the neighborhood for any
neighbors male or female, delivery men, yard workers…anyone who might be out and
about. But the street was deserted, and Chelsea screamed through clenched teeth.
Grabbing her little purse and her car keys, she went to the garage and jumped in her
Range Rover and backed it screeching out of the drive, then roared down the street.
Chelsea pulled into an apartment complex and parked sloppily across two spots. In
seconds she was upstairs banging on a door marked "206". Her startled ex-husband,
Sam, opened the door. "Chelsea?! Whats wrong? Is Jenny ok?" he cried. "Shes fine.
May I come in?" Chelsea asked, brushing him aside as she sashayed in without waiting
for an answer. "Nows not really a good time," Sam said. "Why? Is your ladyfriend
getting her beauty sleep? I guess at her age she needs it," Chelsea said, referring to
Sams new girlfriend whom Jenny had told her looked to be more his age than Chelsea.
"Were not living together, and youre way out of line," Sam snapped angrily. "Im
having a bad day," she said sounding like a declaration not an apology, "I need to talk."
"Its always about you and your needs, isnt it," Sam observed contemptuously. "You
used to enjoy me and my needs," Chelsea replied with a coy smile, fiddling with the
collar of his shirt. She brushed his neck lightly with the tip of her inch-long thumbnail as
though it were unintentional. "Dont," Sam said sternly, grasping her wrist. "You used
to enjoy my touch, too," she said, reaching with her fingers and stroking the side of his
neck with her long fingernails, "Especially my nails." He drew a sudden breath, and
Chelsea smiled to herself. "I mean it. Dont," he said pulling her hand down, "Its over
between us, Chelsea. If not for Jenny---who you stole from me---I wouldnt have
anything to do with you." "Dont hate me," Chelsea pleaded softly. Tears ran down her
model-perfect cheeks. "Stop it, Chelsea. I know you can turn your tears on and off like a
faucet," Sam said coldly, "Just tell me what you really want and let me get on with my
day." "I told you!" Chelsea cried, "I just need to talk." "Talk to Genevieve. Shes
your…how did you put it?…BFF," Sam said. "I cant. Shes at work," Chelsea lied
straight-faced. "You cant call her?" Sam asked suspiciously. "I tried but it just goes
straight into voicemail," Chelsea said, crafting another easy lie, "Shes probably in a
meeting." Sam sighed, "Ok. Ten minutes, Chelsea. Whats on your mind?" "Can we at
least sit?" she asked seating herself on the couch. "Ten minutes," Sam repeated as he sat
down beside her. "These are killing me," she said slipping off her toeless high-heels and
rubbing her feet as she spread and flexed her toes with their longish, gloss-red toenails,
"You dont mind, do you?" "Would it matter if I said I did?" he asked. Chelsea shook
her head and laughed. "You can always make me laugh no matter how bad I feel," she
said warmly, "I love that about you." "All you love is you, Chelsea," he said coldly.
"Thats not true, Sam. I still love you. And I know you still love me," she said taking his
face in her hands, "Me and you is the real thing. You know it in your heart. Whats-her-
name is just a fling, and Im willing to forgive you." "Youre delusional!" Sam cried
with astonishment. "Kiss me and then tell it to me," she said grasping his face firmly
with her nails indented, as she brought her full wet lips close to his, "I know you want
me." "I do want you…to leave," he said firmly. "Kiss me goodbye then," she
whispered and slowly licked the tip of her tongue across his lips. He gasped, and
Chelsea smiled and stroked his face tenderly with her inch-long fingernails. Sam was
now rock-hard, and his heart pounded with panic. Suddenly he grabbed Chelsea and said
lustfully, "Come on, lets go to the bedroom." "What?!" Chelsea exclaimed, startled.
"Youre right. I want you, Chelsea. I want you on top of me…just the way you like it,
remember?" Sam said forcefully as he stood grabbing her wrist and pulling her to her
feet, "I want you so bad, Chelsea." "Let go of me," Chelsea whined, wrenching free of
his grasp. "Whats the matter? Where are you going?" Sam queried as she slipped into
her heels. "I have a headache," Chelsea said, "I have to go." She quickly slipped into
her toeless high-heeled pumps and hastened for the door. Sam grinned triumphantly as
he locked it behind her. One of the few secrets about Chelsea he had uncovered during
their marriage was that she only wanted sex if she was the aggressor. It was the first time
hed ever used it against her powerful seduction, and it was empowering. Yet it was a
hollow victory, for it was impossible for Sam not to recall how incomparably good
Chelsea had been in bed...or any of the less-likely and even public places shed seduced
him during their time together. He wondered how he could ever have found her overt
narcissism sexy, how he could have mistaken lust for love and married her. And most of
all, he hated himself for not stopping Chelsea from turning his sweet little daughter into a
miniature replica of herself. His new lady-friend was everything Chelsea was not: warm,
caring, supportive, compassionate, intellectual. But Chelsea had been right all those
times she boasted that being with her would make it impossible for him to ever fully
enjoy sex with anyone else. Sam hated Chelsea for it, but he hated himself even more for
being unable to stop wanting her.
Downstairs in her Range Rover, Chelseas loins felt like they were on fire, and she
screamed at the top of her lungs. Then she started to laugh. Soon her laughter turned to
hysterics, and finally to uncontrollable sobs. Chelsea took deep breaths to compose
herself. Then she picked up her iPhone in its hot-pink case and scrolled through the
contacts until she came to Dr. Bruce Cronin, the therapist Genevieve had recommended
back when they were freshmen in college and whom Chelsea had seen a year or so
later…and seduced, along with his wife, son and daughter. She filled the Range Rovers
cabin with the sound of inch-long thumbnails tapping sharply on the glass iPhone screen.
She put the phone to her ear and in a moment said, "Hi, this is an emergency. I need to
see the doctor, like, right away." There was a pause. "No Im not a regular patient any
more, but I used to be, until I was cured," Chelsea said. Another pause. "Next week?! I
guess you didnt understand. I said I need to see him right away," Chelsea said, seething.
Another pause. "No opening?" Chelsea replied, "Tell him its Chelsea." Long pause.
"A referral to another therapist? I see," Chelsea sighed dejectedly, then added with
sinister sweetness, "Well, tell Dr. Cronin Im so very disappointed…oh and tell him I
asked about his wife Joan, and said that she and I should really catch-up on old times."
There was another long pause, then Chelseas eyes brightened. "Awesome! I can be
there in fifteen minutes," she answered. Then she pushed "end" and sat back in her
leather seat with a satisfied look on her model-perfect face.
Inside the elevator in Dr. Bruce Cronins office building, as the doors began to close,
Chelsea admired herself the mirrored wall and clicked her inch-long clear natural nails
against the shiny surface. "Youre awesome," she whispered encouragingly, and then
she put her lips to the mirror and kissed her reflection. Suddenly a hand thrust between
the elevator doors which stopped with a jolt and opened up again. A tall, well-built man
in this thirties wearing an expensive suit stepped into the elevator. Somewhat taken
aback at seeing a woman making out with her own reflection, he remarked jokingly,
"You must be a good kisser." He was expecting an embarrassed response, but Chelsea
turned to him in a models pose and replied, "Well, duh. Obviously." The young man
coughed at her complete lack of modesty. "You are nice-looking, Ill give you that
much," he said quickly. "Nice-looking?" Chelsea repeated with an angry-hurt
expression. She noticed him fingering a plain gold wedding band as he issued an
uncomfortable laugh, not knowing what to say. "Im waiting for an apology," she said
tapping her high-heeled toeless pump impatiently on the marble elevator floor.
"Apology?" he repeated, "You want me to say Im sorry for calling you nice-looking?"
"No, for implying that Im only just nice-looking," she replied brusquely with a toss of
her lustrous brown hair. Needing to stall for words, the man looked down. Chelsea
flexed her long toes with elongated gloss-red toenails. "Do you like my pedicure?" she
asked. "What? Oh, um, its nice," the man replied, then hurriedly corrected himself, "I
meant, its beautiful. Youre beautiful." Chelseas face lit up. "Thats better," she said
with a disarming smile and laugh. Rueing the slowness of the elevator he glanced
anxiously at his Rolex. "Is that a Daytona?" Chelsea asked. "As a matter of fact it is,"
the man replied with surprise. "Can I see it?" she asked. "Ok," he said, though she
hadnt waited for his reply before taking his arm. Chelsea placed one hand under his and
the other on top and lifted his wrist up to her eye-level to admire the watch, and as their
eyes met he stared at her hands. "Do you like my nails?" Chelsea asked. "Theyre really
long," he remarked. "Ill take that as a yes," she responded, and then asked in a
suggestive undertone, "Do they turn you on?" The young man fidgeted anxiously. "Um,
may I please have my hand back now?" he asked. "Not before you answer my question,"
Chelsea said as she slipped the tip of her inch-long clear natural pinkie-nail teasingly
under his wedding band. "Huh? What question?" he asked stalling for time and praying
the elevator doors would open quickly, tiny beads of perspiration beginning to dot his
forehead. "I asked you if my long nails turn you on," Chelsea repeated with calm
resolve. Just then the elevator bumped to a halt and the doors opened noisily. "Look, I
really have to go," the man said tugging his arm gently away from Chelsea. As she
allowed him to slip through her grasp, she pressed the tips of her long fingernails against
his hand. She heard his abrupt inhale, and they both watched the white lines on his skin.
"Did I scratch you?" she asked with a tone of innocent concern belied by her decidedly
sultry stare. "Its ok, its nothing," he replied quickly, and turned to get off the elevator.
"Are you sure it was nothing?" Chelsea asked softly, smoothing the lapels of his
expensive suit jacket. "Yes…I really need to go," he protested as the elevator doors
began to close with them still inside. Chelsea slipped her arms over his broad shoulders
and around his back. "What are you doing?" he asked nervously. "Giving you what we
both know you want ," she said, softly buffeting his neck with her warm breath. "Please
let me leave," he pleaded. "I might, if you hug me," Chelsea replied softly. He sighed
and reluctantly put his arms around her. Chelsea tightened her embrace, and he
reciprocated politely. She slipped her hands up and began to stroke his neck slowly and
gently with her inch-long fingernails. She felt him tremble, and she smiled. "You still
havent said if my nails get you hot," Chelsea whispered softly in his ear. She could feel
his erection grow against her thigh, and she rubbed against it. "But obviously they do,"
she said with a knowing laugh. "I think its enough hugging," he said anxiously, about to
push Chelsea away. "I agree," she whispered, and traced her lips across his cheek to his
mouth.
The second he felt Chelseas soft, warm lips touch his, it was as though his legs had
turned to rubber. His conscience was no match for Chelseas powerful allure, and as the
young man succumbed to her warm-honey kiss, she pulled the "stop" button on the
elevator. She tore open his shirt and ran her nails through his chest hair. "I will not cheat
on my wife!" he insisted. "Dont worry, I wont let you, I promise," Chelsea said
unbuckling his belt. "But…?" he began. "Shh, trust me," she whispered, and gave him
another intoxicating kiss. Chelsea slid his boxers down, freeing his hard cock. She
climbed his tall, muscular frame and wrapped her strong, shapely legs around him. They
moaned in harmony as she took him inside her. Chelsea dug her nails in the center of his
back and raked across his shoulders. "Shit! How am I going to explain the marks to my
wife?" he cried. "Shell think she made them," Chelsea replied casually. "No she wont!
She doesnt have nails," he gasped breathlessly. "Oh you poor, poor guy," Chelsea
sighed with a sympathetic kiss on the cheek…then raked her nails harshly across his back
again. He grimaced and groaned, and Chelsea softly purred, "Youre welcome." She
kept thrusting and in seconds she climaxed, digging her nails in his shoulders. Wild with
fervor, she thrust harder and harder until she exploded with another orgasm and raked his
back once more with her inch-long nails. Then she dismounted, leaving the young man
disheveled and half-dressed with his erection jutting unfulfilled and wet with her juices.
"Where the hell are you going?!" he cried as Chelsea let the elevator doors open. "Its
not cheating if you didnt cum," she said with a smile and a gentle toss of her long, silky
brown hair, "So, youre welcome!" The frustrated young man stood speechless with
exasperation, his cock still fully erect. "Bye," Chelsea said casually over her shoulder as
she disappeared down the hallway with the sharp sound of her high-heels on the marble
growing quieter in the distance. Halfway to Dr. Bruce Cronins office she stopped,
turned on her six-inch heel and strutted back from where shed come.
In the elevator, Chelsea again admired herself in the mirrored walls that surrounded her.
She noted the smears left earlier by her and her lovers perspiring bodies, and she found it
humorous to think of all the people who saw those smears with no clue as to what had
transpired inside that elevator. Chelsea thought back to her first week as a college
freshman when shed seduced a guy in the dorm elevator, and how when the doors had
opened a crowd of his buddies had discovered them in mid-fuck and given her a raucous
ovation. The memory made her long for those days, when she used to prowl the halls of
her dorm in nothing but an extra-long t-shirt, seducing every guy she found attractive.
Three, four, sometimes five different guys a night, every night. Chelsea thought life had
been so much more fun back then. All she had to do was flash her sexy smile and say in
a breathy way, "Hi, Im Chelsea," and then while raking her clear, inch-long talons
seductively up his arm, "Do you like my nails?" and in seconds she would be naked in
the guys bed, fucking him like an animal, again and again until he couldnt get it up
again. Then she would slip her t-shirt on and be out the door and on to find the next guy.
But here she was now, a divorcee with the responsibility for a rebellious pre-teen
adoptive daughter. And the one constant in her life, her submissive female lover
Genevieve, had suddenly run off. Chelsea looked at herself in the mirror while she put
her inch-long index nail in her mouth and slowly withdrew it along her wet pink tongue
and through her sexy, full lips. With a forlorn sigh she declared, "Its hard being so
awesome. Everyone is always jealous of me."
Chapter 3…
As Chelsea pulled her Range Rover up to the sprawling home she won in the divorce, she
noticed a battered Toyota parked out front. "Jenny? Jenny!" she shouted from the
kitchen as she tossed her purse and keys on the granite counter. "What?!" came the
young girls reply from upstairs. "Come down, I need to talk to you!" Chelsea shouted.
"Im busy!" Jenny yelled back. "Now!" Chelsea screamed. "No!" Jenny screamed back.
Chelsea took a deep breath to rein in her rage, and stormed upstairs. As she reached the
top landing, Jenny emerged from her bedroom and hurriedly shut the door behind her.
"Hi Mommy! How was your day?" Jenny asked jovially. Chelsea squinted suspiciously.
"Whos in your room?" she demanded. Jenny gave a puzzled look and replied,
"Nobody. I promise!" "Then why did you shut the door?" Chelsea asked. Jenny averted
Chelseas eyes and looked down at her feet, digging her little longish pink toenails into
the carpet. "Please dont be mad at me," Jenny begged quietly, "My room is a mess, and
I forgot to make my bed this morning." Jenny looked up with tears streaming down her
rosy cheeks, and Chelsea sighed and held little Jenny close to her. "Thats ok, baby, I
forgive you," she said soothingly, stroking Jennys long blond hair. Suddenly Chelsea
turned Jenny aside and swung the door open. Immediately the odor of marijuana
affronted her nostrils. A girl of about sixteen with green-streaked short black hair and a
silver eyebrow piercing jumped from the bed to her feet. She was barefoot and wearing
short cut-off jeans and a halter top, thick black eyeliner and glitter makeup. "Im Nikki.
You must be Jennys mom," the girl said amiably, at the same time she cast a guilty
glance at a pack of cigarette papers and a ziplock bag of weed on Jennys pink
nightstand. "You promised there was nobody inside," Chelsea scolded Jenny. "I meant
it when I promised. Thats what counts," Jenny replied copying Chelseas inflections
perfectly. "Thats like totally not how that works!" Chelsea exclaimed. "I better be
going, Jen," Nikki said. "No! You dont have to!" Jenny insisted. "Yes, she does,"
Chelsea said glaring at Jenny. "Im not a little kid!" Jenny screamed at Chelsea, "Youre
just like daddys new girlfriend. She thinks Im a baby. She keeps trying to get daddy to
make me cut my nails!" "She what!?" Chelsea gasped. "Really, I have to go," Nikki said
hurriedly brushing past Chelsea with a quick, "It was nice meeting you." As Nikki
passed her, Chelsea noticed a maze of long pink lines and half-circle welts on the girls
bare back. Chelsea turned to Jenny, who promptly raised her eyebrows and clicked her
long fingernails together. Chelsea took a deep breath to say something, but then without
speaking skulked off to her own bedroom and slammed the door behind her.
Chelsea dug her nails in the sheets and bit her pillow, muffling a scream of exasperation.
She sat up, valiantly fighting back the tears that were forcing themselves from her sultry
hazel eyes. "I wont cry. I dont cry. I never cry," she declared to herself, adding, "Not
for real anyway." There was a soft knock on the door, and Jenny opened it and came in.
"Mommy?" Jenny asked softly. Chelsea sat up and wiped a tear from her model-perfect
cheek with the heel of her palm. "Whats happened to you?!" she implored the little girl
with a look of sorrow. "You mean the weed?" Jenny replied, and looking deep into
Chelseas eyes, testified, "That was all Nikki. Ive never even tried weed." Chelsea
could see Jennys reddened eyes with dilated pupils, and she sighed. "Jenny, youre way
too awesome to be in the same zipcode with a skank like Nikki, let alone bring her up to
your room," Chelsea admonished. "Like, I totally know that," Jenny said rolling her
eyes, "But Heaths been ignoring my texts, and like, Nikkis his girlfriend, so, um…you
get it, dont you?" Chelsea swallowed hard. She traced the side of her finger around the
contours of Jennys angelic face, took her hands and caressed the little girls long
fingernails, and began sternly, "Ok, but the next time you want to have older kids over, I
need to be home. Understand?" Jennys face transformed with rebellious rage, and she
opened her mouth to say something, but Chelsea put her fingers over the girls pouty pink
lips. "…And they had better be awesomely good-looking, and rich," Chelsea continued,
"Those two are totally below your league. Any average-looking girl could get trash like
them to like her." Jenny burst into a smile, hugged Chelsea tightly and sighed, "Youre
so awesome!" "I know," Chelsea replied with a shrug. Suddenly Jenny said, "Mommy,
you miss Aunt Genevieve, dont you." Chelsea nodded quickly, unable to speak for fear
of bursting into tears. "If you want, I could sleep in your bed tonight," Jenny suggested
sweetly. "That would be awesome," Chelsea responded, combing her inch-long
fingernails through Jennys silky blond tresses, "Go get into your PJs and hurry back,
ok?" Jenny giggled, "Oh Mommy! I havent wore PJs in like, forever. I dont even have
any that still fit," and then added, "Maybe I could wear one of your nighties." "You
could…if I owned any," Chelsea laughed.
Chelsea and Jenny sat up side-by side in Chelseas bed with their legs and feet exposed
from the covers. Jenny put one foot next to Chelseas and spread her toes, comparing her
longish red-polished toenails to Chelseas identically-pedicured digits. "Its amazing
how totally alike we are," Jenny exclaimed with innocent wonder, unaware she had been
moulded and manipulated since the first moment Chelsea had set eyes on her three years
earlier. "Totally," Chelsea agreed, but with a tinge of melancholy as she reviewed the
days events in her mind. "Is Aunt Genevieve ever coming back?" Jenny asked. "Of
course she is," Chelsea stated confidently, "were BFFs, and the F stands for forever,"
Chelsea replied. "When is she coming back?" Jenny asked. Chelsea shrugged, "I guess
when she admits she cant live without me." "I already know that, so Ill never leave
you," Jenny said. Chelsea swallowed the lump in her throat and rested her head sideways
on Jennys. "Wanna scratch each others backs?" Jenny proposed. "Love it!" Chelsea
replied brightly, and they each put one hand behind the others back and began. "Isnt it
great that we both have really long fingernails?" Jenny remarked cheerfully. "Its totally
awesome," Chelsea replied with a sigh of contentment, basking in the relaxing,
pleasurable sensations, and thrilled by the sound of twenty long, natural nails skating
slowly and rhythmically on taut, feminine skin. "How bout we use both hands?" Jenny
suggested. "Twice as awesome," Chelsea agreed eagerly, so they faced and embraced
one another and began scratching each others backs two-handed. Jenny left a warm, wet
kiss in the crook of Chelseas neck and whispered, "I love you, Mommy," brushing
Chelseas soft skin with her lips. "I love you too, Jenny," Chelsea responded. Jenny
smiled and put her adorable little nose tip-to-tip with Chelseas. "Hug?" Jenny asked
sweetly, pressing her nails in Chelseas back as she embraced her, "…kiss?"
Hearing such an uncanny execution of the routine she so often used to seduce, shocked
Chelsea cold, and she pulled back with a gasp. "What do you think youre doing?!" she
screamed. Jennys lip began to quiver, and she burst into tears. "I was just trying to
make you feel better because you miss Aunt Genevieve," she bawled. Chelsea closed her
eyes and sighed. "Im sorry baby. I misunderstood," she said. "What did I do?" Jenny
asked, choking back her sobs. "Nothing, baby. I guess Im stressed-out or something,"
Chelsea said. She held Jenny close, stroking her little protIgIs long, silken blond hair,
and apologized, "Im so sorry, baby." "I forgive you," Jenny said giving Chelsea a soft
kiss in her neck. "Do you want me to go back to my own room, Mommy? Do you want to
be alone?" Jenny asked compassionately. "No! Stay!" Chelsea pleaded. "Ok, if you
really want me to, Ill stay," Jenny answered, looking away so Chelsea didnt see her
devious little smirk. She sat up and held her hands out. "Do my nails. Ok?" she asked,
with the same tone Chelsea phrased requests that were in fact orders.
The mere utterance of the word "nails" was enough to capture Chelseas full attention
away from anything else. She bought emery boards by case at the professional beauty
supply, obsessively kept a half-dozen in each of her hundreds of purses, at least a dozen
in the glove compartment of her Range Rover, and had them placed strategically
everywhere around the house, so that there would always be one within easy reach no
matter where she was. And she rarely used one more than once, fearful that a used one
might put microscopic cracks in her perfect, natural inch-long fingernails that could lead
to a crack. Chelsea could not recall the last time she broke a nail, and she aimed to keep
it that way. Bubbly with effervescent mirth, she grabbed a fresh emery board from the
pile her nightstand drawer, and took Jennys hand. "Mommy, you wont let daddys new
girlfriend make me cut my nails will you?" Jenny asked verging on tears. "I wont let
anyone make you cut them. Ever," Chelsea vowed. "When can I grow them as long as
yours?" Jenny asked, comparing the half-inch extensions of her own nails to the one-inch
extensions of Chelseas. Chelsea answered, "If you grow them any longer now, the white
part will be longer than the pink part, and theyll be weaker and break easier. Your hands
need to get bigger, then you can let your nails grow longer." Jenny sighed with youthful
impatience. She looked down at her flat little-girl chest and then at Chelseas ample
bosom. "Do you think Ill ever have nice boobs like yours?" Jenny lamented, reaching
out with her free hand and gently following the contours of Chelseas perky breast with
her fingers. "If not, well get you a boob job," she offered cheerfully. "Do fake ones feel
like real ones? " Jenny asked giving Chelseas breast a little bounce. "Almost," Chelsea
said as she continued shaping Jennys long fingernails. "Well, I still hope I get real
ones," Jenny said cupping her hand over Chelseas perky boob and giving it a test-
squeeze. Feeling the slight prick from Jennys long nails, Chelsea looked down, and she
blushed when she saw that her large nipples had become erect. Jenny giggled, "Its so
cool they do that!" and she stroked Chelseas nipple with the side of her long thumbnail.
Chelsea gasped and held Jennys hand still. "Does that tickle?" Jenny asked
apologetically. Chelsea swallowed hard and forced a smiling nod. "These are done,"
she said relinquishing the hand she had been manicuring. Jenny spread her fingers and
said wide-eyed, "Theyre totally awesome!" Chelsea picked up Jennys other hand and
began filing. "I love when my nails are just filed," Jenny related. Chelsea felt Jennys
warm hand on her upper thigh and glanced down, and the sight of those long nails made
memories of Genevieves touch come flooding back. "Cuz theyre really sharp, and they
make a cool sound," Jenny continued, and she scratched her freshly-filed long fingernails
lightly on Chelseas thigh. Chelsea inhaled suddenly with a squeak. "Was that too
hard?" Jenny asked with deep concern, gazing at the white lines her nails had left on
Chelseas smooth, tanned skin. Breathing in and out slowly, she shook her head "no".
Jenny scanned Chelseas face probingly. Chelsea looked away and declared, "Im like,
totally exhausted. Lets go to sleep, ok?" Jenny nodded as though in agreement, but at
the same time she traced the longish nail of her big toe up Chelseas calf and said, "First
do my pedicure." Chelsea cast Jenny a pleading look, but saw no inkling of compassion
in her adoptive daughters bright blue eyes.
Chelsea was genuinely exhausted by the time she tightened the brush-cap on the bottle of
clear top-coat she had used to finalize Jennys pedicure. With her legs extended and
foam toe-spreaders on both her little feet, Jenny gazed admiringly at the fresh, glossy-red
polish on her longish toenails. "I guess I better sit up till its completely dry so I wont
smudge it," Jenny reckoned. Chelsea heaved a sigh of fatigue, turned facing away from
Jenny and lay on her stomach, and declared, "Well Im going to sleep." "Nighty-night,"
Jenny said in a tiny voice. When she saw Chelseas shoulders rising and falling in the
slow rhythm of sleep, Jenny began giving her a slow back-scratch.
In Chelseas minds eye loomed Genevieve, knee-length black hair flowing freely over
her naked body, lips pursed with the promise of a kiss, and her hands and fingers
beckoning with long, delicately-tapered purple-polished nails. The hissing sound of
freshly-filed long fingernails on skin filled Chelseas head. Every nerve-ending in her
body was on fire. She opened her eyes and saw Genevieve leaning over her. "I knew
youd be back," she stated with haughty confidence. She licked her lips in preparation to
force Genevieves submission with a dizzying warm-honey kiss, the prelude to gratifying
the lust now boiling in her loins. "Stop! Stop it! Mommy, stop it! Wake up Mommy!"
little Jenny shrieked, shaking Chelsea violently. Chelsea awakened with a jolt from the
sharpness of Jennys nails digging in her shoulders. She stared into Jennys frantic,
terrified countenance framed by a disshevelled curtain of long, silken blond hair. Jennys
big blue eyes were wide with confused panic and overflowing with tears. For a moment
Chelsea seemed disoriented, but then she went cold and numb. "Oh god," she gasped,
and buried her face in the pillow. Jenny stroked her long fingernails through Chelseas
lustrous brown hair and asked, "Were you having a bad dream?" Chelsea turned over
quickly and looked up at Jenny and exclaimed, "Oh my god, it was totally the worst
ever!" "Maybe I should go back to my own room?" Jenny wondered aloud. "No! Dont
go! Dont leave me alone!" Chelsea cried, squeezing the little girl to her with all her
might, "Never leave me alone! Never!" "I wont. I promise," little Jenny vowed, patting
Chelseas back softly. And then she stroked with her long fingernails.
It seemed as though shed only slept a few minutes when Chelsea next opened her eyes,
but there was sunlight streaming through the window. She glanced at the clock, gasped,
and shook Jenny awake. Jenny rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands and stretched
languidly. "Get up! Get dressed! Oh my god, youre late for school!" Chelsea cried.
Jenny giggled, "Its Saturday!" "Oh. Right. I knew that," Chelsea said checking her
inch-long fingernails to camouflage her embarrassment. "Im hungry. Whats for
breakfast?" Jenny asked. "Whatever you know how to make I guess," Chelsea replied
with a shrug. Jenny rolled her eyes and declared, "We totally have to get Aunt
Genevieve back." "I dont know where she went," Chelsea said with a gesture of
frustration. "You could hire a private investigator, like they do on TV," Jenny suggested.
"Youre awesome!" Chelsea said with a grin. "Like mother like daughter," Jenny agreed
spreading her fingers to admire her long nails. Chelsea picked up her iPhone and said,
"Find private investigator." In a moment there was a ding, and the robotic female voice
replied, "I found several of them near you." Chelsea scowled. "How to pick one?" she
wondered. "Duh! The one with the coolest website of course," Jenny replied rolling her
eyes, "Go get me a yogurt and meet me in my room."
Chelsea came bounding back upstairs excitedly. Jenny was seated at her computer.
"Here you go," Chelsea said offering the little girl a carton of blueberry yogurt. "There
wasnt any peach-mango?" Jenny asked with mild annoyance as she took the yogurt
without a thank-you and began to eat. "Whatve you got?" Chelsea asked. With the
spoon in her mouth, Jenny clicked open a bookmarked website. "Delbert Harrison
Investigations?" Chelsea snickered, "Are you kidding me? No hot guy is named Delbert."
Jenny looked perplexed. "Why does he need to be hot?" she asked. "Duh! Cuz Im
going to have to look at him and talk to him," Chelsea replied rolling her eyes. "Duh!"
Jenny repeated slapping her forehead with the heel of her hand. She clicked another
bookmark. "How about this one?" she asked. "Hmm," Chelsea pondered, tapping her
front teeth with the tip of an inch-long fingernails, "Marcus Ashford Agency. Marcus
Ashford. That could totally be a hot-guys name." Jenny clicked on Bio. "Mmmm,
yes!" Chelsea purred as a picture of a handsome dark-haired thirtysomething man popped
up. Jenny heaved a disappointed sigh, and touching the tip of her half-inch index nail to
the on-screen text below the picture said, "Rats. It says hes married." "Awesome,"
Chelsea said under her breath, and circled the tip of her tongue around her lips slowly.
Again Jenny looked perplexed, but this time Chelsea offered no explanation, she simply
said, "Ill be back later. Oh, and no having guests in the house while Im not here, ok,"
Chelsea warned. "I promise," Jenny said nodding dutifully with her hand over her heart.
As soon as Chelsea left her room, Jenny whispered to herself, "I meant it when I
promised," and began tapping out a text with the tips of her half-inch thumbnails. In
seconds the phone chimed, and a text appeared that said, "B ovr ina sec. Nikki."
Downstairs the garage door opened, and in a moment closed again, and Jenny heard the
sound of Chelseas Range Rover drive away. She plucked a Zig-Zag from the pack on
her nightstand and expertly rolled a joint, lit it, took a bit hit and lay on her back on her
bed with her hands raised and fingers spread, admiring the way the light played through
her half-inch long fingernails.
Chapter 4…
Chelsea was expecting Marcus Ashfords office to look like a cliche from a famous old
detective movie, so it surprised her to drive up to a modern, glass-encased building.
Wearing a tight, low-cut cream-colored knitted top and a short, tight black skirt and black
open-toed pumps with six-inch heels that defined and accentuated the shapely curves of
her tanned, toned legs, Chelsea immediately reminded Marcus Ashford of the sultry
femme-fatale in that same famous old detective movie. He half expected her to pull a
linen handkerchief from her purse and begin sobbing for his help. Instead, she struck a
sexy pose, tossed her mane of lustrous long brown hair and said, "Hi, Im Chelsea."
"Marcus Ashford," he said offering his hand. "I know. I saw your picture on your
website," she said accepting his hand, but rather than make a quick perfunctory gesture
and let go, she continued to hold on. "How can I help you?" he asked. "I need to find
someone," she replied. "Thats the thing I do best," he said smiling. "Thats not what I
would have guessed," Chelsea replied with an impish look, sweeping him from top to
bottom with her sultry hazel eyes. Marcus Ashford laughed it off. "Why dont we step
into my office and you can give me the important details," he suggested. "An inch,"
Chelsea said. "Excuse me?" he asked confused. "Thats how long my nails are: an
inch," she said, "You asked for the important details." Ashford smiled uneasily as he
looked down at her hand upon his. "Um…can I have my hand back?" he said as casually
as he could. "Careful what you wish for," she whispered. Ashford gave her a puzzled
look. As she withdrew her soft, warm fingers against his strong hand Chelsea let her long
nails brush his palm. Absent Chelseas touch, Marcus Ashford felt a desperate sense of
loss, and the meaning of her last remark became clear.
Ashford gestured to a chair in front of his desk. Chelsea engaged his gaze and then sat
down gracefully and crossed her long, silky-smooth legs. She flexed her gloss-red
polished toes and saw him glance down, and she smiled to herself. Chelsea leaned
forward and turned around a silver frame propped on Ashfords desk. It was a
photograph of him and a pretty woman with short blonde hair. "Your sister?" Chelsea
asked with a note of hope. "Wife," Ashford replied. "Hot wife," Chelsea remarked.
"Thank you," he responded. "I mean, shes smoking hot," Chelsea said staring at the
photograph. Politely he reached and turned the picture back facing himself. "You said
you wanted me to find someone," Ashford began in a businesslike manner, attempting to
set things back on cordial ground. "Yes. My BFF," Chelsea answered, "Her name is
Genevieve. Shes five feet tall, really delicate and petite, with amazing black hair down
to her knees, and shes got amazing dark eyes and white-white skin, and she used to have
amazing long fingernails she always polished dark purple, but she cut them off just
before she…" "Left you?" Ashford finished. "She didnt leave me, she just left…period,
full-stop," Chelsea retorted narrowing her eyes hatefully, "Nobody leaves me. Ever."
"And shes your…BFF," Ashford reiterated. "Yes. I told you that. Didnt you hear?"
Chelsea asked becoming more incensed. "What I heard was someone describing their
lover," Ashford said. "Well of course I love her. Shes my BFF!" Chelsea exclaimed,
and rivers of tears spurted from her warm hazel eyes, "I love her as much as I love my
daughter. Heck, almost as much as I love my nails." Chelsea stood up quickly and turned
toward the door. "Coming to you was obviously a mistake," she said. "Wait, dont go,"
he cried, jumping to his feet, and he raced around the desk, grabbing a box of Kleenex
and offering it to Chelsea. She took a tissue and daintily dabbed her tears and looked at
him expectantly. "You must realize that in my business, clients have been known to lie,"
he said. "I would never, ever lie to you. I promise," Chelsea said with hurt in her voice,
looking him straight in the eyes. "I really want to take your case. Please, tell me what I
can say to make you stay," he pleaded, resting his hand warmly on her shoulder. Chelsea
put her hand on his. "You could start by telling me you like my nails," she proposed with
a sexy stare. "Well they certainly are…," he began. "Hot?" she interrupted. Ashford
coughed and said, "I was going to say long." "You dont think my nails are sexy?"
Chelsea asked with astonishment, and she took her hand off of his and tossed her long
brown hair as she turned away. "Wait!" Ashford cried, halting her with a firm hand on
her shoulder. Chelsea cast a contemptuous glare at his hand and then him, and he
instantly let go. "I guess Ive always been attracted to the athletic tomboy type, and they
have short nails," he confessed. Chelsea reached and adjusted his tie. "Well Im
definitely not a tomboy," she said. "Definitely not," Ashford agreed. "And I definitely
dont have short nails," she said. "Definitely not," he reiterated. "Definitely not,"
Chelsea repeated trailing her inch-long natural fingernails slowly under his chin, causing
Ashford to inhale sharply. Chelsea put her lips to his ear and whispered, "But I am very
athletic."
"Seriously, I am very athletic," she insisted, "Bet I can outrun you." "In six-inch heels?"
he asked skeptically. Chelsea smiled because he had obviously noticed her footwear.
"No. Barefoot," she whispered in his ear while she slipped one foot out of her pumps, and
proceeded to stroke up his leg slowly from his ankle, under his pant leg. Ashford gasped
and stood ramrod-straight. Sweat beaded-up on his reddened forehead, and he had a look
on his face like a scared adolescent. "You like my feet dont you," Chelsea affirmed, "I
saw how you looked at them before." Ashford trembled and could barely utter a
whimper. "Its ok. All guys like my feet. It delights me, " Chelsea whispered. She
slipped her big toe under the top of his sock and slid it down around his ankle, then she
scratched her toenails back up his calf. "Oh god," he gasped faintly. "Do you like my
pedicure?" Chelsea asked in her innocent-little-girl voice, searching his eyes expectantly.
Ashford swallowed hard. "I bet your wife keeps her toenails short, too, doesnt she.
Poor Marcus," Chelsea said with a sympathetic pout. Quickly she reverted to a sexy
smile as once again she dragged her toenails up his calf. "I bet youve never had footjob
with toenails have you," she said. Ashford shook his head. "Want one?" she asked
brightly. He nodded instantly, but then quickly gasped, "I mean, no…I mean, I cant.
Im married!" "Footjobs and handjobs arent cheating," Chelsea said authoritatively.
"Im afraid my wife wouldnt agree," he said. Chelsea replied, "Then we wont tell her.
Im the worlds best secret-keeper." "Ill bet youve had lots of practice," Ashford
quipped. Chelsea put her hand on his crotch and it made him gasp loudly. "Stop! What
if someone walks in on us?" he cried. "Oooh," Chelsea squealed, "The thought of that
totally excites me. Doesnt it excite you?" "Youre unbelievable," Ashford said.
"Thanks," Chelsea replied warmly, oblivious that he had been facetious . Then she
scraped his bulge with the tips of her inch-long natural fingernails, and his knees almost
buckled. "But Im way beyond unbelievable," she finished. Marcus Ashford looked at
his watch, looked around furtively, and then quickly undid his belt and let his pants fall
around his ankles. "Ok. Do it, but make it quick!" he said grasping Chelsea by her
shoulders. "As if!" Chelsea exclaimed, and her knee shot up in his groin. "Aaaaaagh!
Fucking bitch!" he bellowed as crumpled to the floor holding his crotch. "You might
want to get it together and pull your pants up," Chelsea suggested. Ashford looked up,
and when and saw her casually checking her nails, a battalion of curses and epithets
mustered on the end of his tongue ready to hurl themselves at her. But then his eye
caught the galaxy of little specular highlights glinting off her perfectly-buffed inch-long
fingernails, and he gazed back down her long, silky-smooth, toned, tanned legs to her
soft-looking feet perched in six-inch heels, with her longish, gloss-red toenails peeking
out at him. And the realization came with unnerving shock, that despite the throbbing
ache in his testicles, and her blasI lack of concern for his pain, his desire for Chelsea
remained undiminished.
"I mean it, get up. I dont have all day," Chelsea said impatiently, looking at her
diamond-rimmed Cartier watch. Marcus Ashford gritted his teeth and struggled to his
feet. Casting her a hateful look, he hobbled to the corner of his office, to a little wet-bar,
opened the ice bucket and dumped its contents in a plastic bag which he then held to his
crotch. Smiling, Chelsea walked over and poured a double-shot of scotch. "Thanks," he
said reaching for the glass. "Youre welcome, I guess," she said picking up the glass and
taking a sip. Ashford gave her a contemptuous look and poured himself a drink. "So
how soon can you find Genevieve?" Chelsea asked clicking her incredibly-long
fingernails on the glass. "Did you ever consider maybe she doesnt want to be found?"
Ashford suggested. "Did you ever consider maybe I dont care?" Chelsea replied.
"Damn, you really are the Ice Queen," he sighed. "Says the man holding the ice," she
retorted. "Very funny," he sneered sarcastically. Chelsea finished her drink and set the
glass on the counter, and she came around the bar and stood next to him. "Here, let me
do that," she said taking the ice bag from him and gently holding against his testicles for
him. Chelsea touched the tip of her inch-long thumbnail to his cock and laughed when it
twitched. With a promising smile, Chelsea set the ice-bag on the counter and cupped his
testicles with her cold hand, and she began to brush his cock with the side of her nail.
Almost instantly he became rock-hard. Ashford looked at Chelsea with trepidation and
asked, "Are you going to knee me in the balls again?" "Are you going to try taking
charge again?" she asked in retort. Marcus Ashford shook his head silently, and Chelsea
smiled. She wrapped all her fingers around his erection and began to stroke its entire
length with purpose. Soon she put her other arm around him and slid her hand up his
shirt and began to lightly scratch his back with her inch-long natural fingernails. Feeling
his cock respond, she scratched his back more sensuously. Chelsea left tender, wet kisses
in his neck, working her way slowly up to his earlobe, which she bit gently, and then
kissed her way along his cheek to the corner of his mouth. "This is starting to feel like
cheating," he whispered anxiously. Chelsea brushed his skin with her lips as she
whispered, "Just a little kiss. I promise." Holding the back of his head with her hand,
Chelsea opened her mouth and engulfed him in her warm-honey kiss, scratching his neck
lightly with her long fingernails to the rhythm of the slow, gentle circling of her lips, as
her hot tongue danced with his. Marcus felt a buzzing of electricity all the way down to
his shoes, and the room seemed to spin slowly. He felt Chelsea slide her leg up and over
his hip, and with her hand still stroking his cock, begin to guide him inside her steaming-
hot wetness. He opened his eyes suddenly with a look of terror, and he held her wrist and
put his hand against her shoulder to push her away. Chelsea stared with shock. It was
the first time anyone had not succumbed her kiss, and her immediate reaction was rage.
"What did we decide about you trying to take charge?" she hissed. "Im sorry. But that
was a lot more than a little kiss! You promised!" Ashford gasped. "I meant it when I
promised. Thats what counts," Chelsea replied. "Right," he said ironically, "Anyway, I
think wed better cool off." Chelsea seethed, as she was well past the point of cooling
off, and the fire in her loins was accelerating by the second. Marcus Ashford resisting
her kiss had enraged her, but at the same time it presented her with a challenge that
excited her like nothing before. A challenge she was compelled to meet, and to win.
There was a sudden twinkle of dawning in Chelseas hazel eyes. She lowered her leg,
scratching her longish red toenails slowly down the outside of his thigh and calf. Ashford
let out a croaking gasp and his eyes seemed to glass-over. With a satisfied smile on her
lips, Chelsea led him by the cock to the straight chair in front of his desk, pushed him
down in it. With careless abandon she swept the contents of his desk onto the floor and
sat on top. Casting him a sexy smirk and licking her lips, she placed her feet in his lap.
"Guess whats coming," she said teasingly as she flexed her perfect toes. "Me I hope,"
he quipped. Chelsea gave him a saccharine smile while she took his testicles between her
toes. "No talking," she snapped and squeezed his already-tender balls hard enough to
make him grimace and scream. "Ok! Ok!" he cried, "Ill shut up! Let go!" "Ive got
awesomely strong toes," she boasted and gave his nuts a further squeeze that instantly
elicited a falsetto shriek. Ashfords eyes were watering from the pain, and Chelsea made
a sympathetic pout that was obviously insincere. She raised her foot and wiped a tear
from his cheek with her big toe, smiled, and pointed it in his face. "Taste?" she offered.
Marcus Ashfords eyes grew wide as saucers, and he wasted no time taking her ankle and
sucking and licking her toes ravenously. Chelsea laughed with delight and raised her
other foot to his mouth. He gaped like a kid in a toy store, quickly took her by both
ankles and busied himself going back and forth between her feet devouring them with
wild fervor. Chelsea cooed and sighed with aroused pleasure, then suddenly pulled her
feet away. Ashfords expression was that of a toddler who someone had just taken away
his lollipop, like he was about to cry. Chelsea curled her toes and dragged all her toenails
down from his shoulders to his lap, which made him groan with lust. Then she clasped
his hard cock between her arches, smiled seductively and purred, "Footjob anyone?" She
began to stroke his shaft. Ashford moaned loudly. Chelsea laughed, and he looked up
into her warm hazel eyes. She gave him an alluring stare and proceeded to lick her long
fingernails one-by-one, all the while mewing like a preening cat. "God damn!" he
exhorted. Chelsea flashed him a self-satisfied smile. The she took his erection between
the first and second toes of one foot and began to slide it up and down his shaft with
excruciating slowness. "Fuckin A," he wheezed. Chelsea licked her top lip with the tip
of her tongue as she stared him down intently studying and savoring his every reaction to
her protracted tease.
"I think Im going to cum any second," Marcus Ashford related joyfully. "I think not,"
Chelsea contradicted with a wicked smirk, and she pinched the base of his cock mightily
between her surprisingly-strong toes. "Ow! Fuck!" he cried. She saw him about to reach
for her foot, and she warned curtly, "Touch me and Ill walk out." Ashford watched his
cock turning blue and looked pleadingly at Chelsea, but she ignored him and leisurely
raked her long brown hair back with her fingernails. Finally she loosened her grip
enough that the pain stopped, and Marcus Ashford said a facetious, "Thank you."
"Youre welcome," Chelsea said with sweet sincerity, checking and admiring her clear
inch-long fingernails. Then she gave him that wicked smile again, and still holding the
base of his cock steady between her toes, she brought her other foot up and began to trace
the edge of her pinkie-toenail slowly sideways up and down the shaft. Ashford began to
pant heavily, as though on the verge of hyperventilating. Chelsea made one more nail-
stroke up his shaft, and then she lifted her foot and began to slowly rub her baby-soft sole
back and forth across the tip of his cock with a feather-light touch. Ashford grabbed the
edge of his chair with both hands so hard his fingers were white. "Remember, touch me
and Ill stop and walk out," Chelsea reminded him. "I…n-n-need t-to c-c-c-cum!" he
spluttered. She traced her pinkie-toenail down and up his shaft again. "Well now you
know how you I feel," she said in her snippy, entitled way. Once more she rubbed her
sole lightly back and forth across his pee-hole. "I c-cant t-take any m-m-more!" he
moaned forlornly. "Wanna bet?" she asked with a smirk. "No!" he exclaimed instantly.
"Ill make you cum if you make me cum," she proposed. "Fine," Marcus Ashford
sighed, and he reached for the hem of Chelseas short skirt. "Eww!" she cried and
slapped his hand away, "With your man-fingers? So gross!" "Look, were not going to
have sex, and thats that," Ashford stated resolutely. Chelsea ran the edge of her pinkie-
toenail up his shaft once more, and then rubbed his pee-hole lightly with her baby-soft
sole. Ashford gasped and coughed. "There must be something we can do…" Chelsea
mused, pondering, then her expression brightened. "Ive got it!" Chelsea said happily
and slid off the desk. She stood over him momentarily, then she sat straddling his lap
facing him and pressed her wet mound against his raging erection. Feeling his willpower
eroding, Marcus Ashford cried with panic, "Didnt you understand me? Im not going to
cheat on my wife!" "Relax. Dry-humping isnt cheating," Chelsea said earnestly as she
began to move her hips and rub his erection between her pussy lips. "Are you for real?!"
he cried. "Shh," Chelsea whispered holding his face between her hands. He felt the
touch of her long fingernails and began to tremble. Chelsea smiled. She turned her face
slightly as she came closer, and she parted her lips, glistening-wet with anticipation. She
closed her eyes as their mouths came together, and she wormed her tongue deep inside.
Chelsea rose up slightly and then lowered herself, quickly swallowing his throbbing
erection deep inside her burning-hot pussy. This time he had no power left to resist.
Twenty minutes later Chelsea dismounted and stepped off of Ashfords lap. She looked
at him sprawled in the chair, covered with sweat, and she beamed with satisfaction at
having left the fit, muscular private investigator completely exhausted. Winded, he
gasped, "You...you made me cheat on my wife! You promised you wouldnt!" "I meant
it when I pr…" she began. "Dont say it!" he cried. "Oh boo hoo," Chelsea said
callously, "It was the awesomest sex you ever had and you know it." "What do you want
from me?" Ashford pleaded. "Duh! Find my BFF Genevieve," Chelsea replied, "What
else would I want from a private detective?" "It sure seemed like you wanted something
else," he remarked gesturing at his flaccid cock laying spent in his lap. "I had to make
sure you were the right man for the job," she said. "Do you honestly think Im going to
take your case now?" Ashford asked bitterly. "I know you will," Chelsea replied with
entitlement, "In fact you wont even charge me." "And why in hell would I do that?"
Ashford questioned angrily. "Because if you dont youll never see me again," Chelsea
replied. "Yeah? What makes you think I want to see you again?" he demanded. Chelsea
sidled up to him and rested her bare foot on top of his thigh, compelling Ashford to look.
She squeezed with her toes, making light indentations with her longish gloss-red toenails.
They both saw his cock respond instantly, and Chelsea leaned down to his ear, licked the
outside and whispered, "Any more questions, Marcus?" Ashford cast her a look of mixed
hatred and helplessness. Chelsea blew him a little kiss and stepped away, as she did she
let her inch-long fingernails drag slowly across his back. Ashford winced, and Chelsea
remarked casually, "Youll probably want to wear a T-shirt to bed for a week or two, so
your wife wont see the fingernail scratches." With a toss of her long, lustrous brown hair
she started away. At the door she turned momentarily and said, "I expect you to call me
the second you find Genevieve." "If she doesnt want to be found, it might take time,"
Ashford warned. "Well, you wont see me again until you find Genevieve," Chelsea
stated as she turned for the door, adding over her shoulder as she left, "So I know it
wont take you long."
Chapter 5…
Chelseas front doorbell rang at 7PM, and by the time she had scampered in from the
pool and crossed the marble foyer, the bell rang two more times. "Im coming!" she
called out, annoyed at the persistent knocking, and flung open the door. A forty-
something woman with streaked shoulder-length hair and wearing a business suit and
closed-toe pumps stood on the front stoop. "Oh my gosh!" the woman gasped covering
her eyes, "Do you always answer the door stark naked!" "If youre selling beauty
products, I dont need any," Chelsea replied with open arms, "Obviously." "I owe Sam
an apology. I thought he had to be exaggerating," the woman said shaking her head.
"How do you know my ex?" Chelsea asked, "Wait…I know his mother is dead…are you
his aunt or something?" The womans eyes filled with hate, but she forced an artificial
smile. "Im Mollie," she said offering her hand. "Hi. Im Chelsea," Chelsea responded
brightly. "Yes, I know. I came to see you," Mollie said. "Why?" Chelsea asked. "You
really dont know who I am?" Mollie asked. "Sams aunt?" Chelsea guessed. "Stop
saying that!" Mollie shrieked. "Jeez, chill!" Chelsea responded, "Who are you then?"
"Sam didnt mention he was seeing someone?" Mollie asked. "Jenny told me. So
what?" Chelsea replied, then suddenly it dawned on her that Mollie was Sams new
ladyfriend. "May I come in?" Mollie asked. "Sure," Chelsea said stepping aside so
Mollie could enter the marble foyer. She looked around nodding. "Very impressive.
Quite a departure from Sams little apartment. You did well for yourself," Mollie
observed. "Thanks," Chelsea replied warmly, seemingly oblivious to the frosting of
irony on Mollies remarks. "Would you like a glass of wine?" Chelsea asked sweetly
with a smile. "Well…Sure," Mollie replied. "Do you prefer red or white?" Chelsea
asked politely. "White please," Mollie answered. "Awesome. Me too. Theres a wine
rack in the kitchen," Chelsea said pointing, "Glasses are up above, and the cork-popper-
thingy is in the drawer underneath. Ill be out by the pool." Mollie cast her a disgruntled
look, but Chelseas back was already turned. Mollie watched Chelseas tall, lean, sexy
body, perfect legs and tight ass, and she sighed to herself.
Mollie came through the glass door onto the pool patio juggling a bottle of wine, two
glasses and the corkscrew and trying not to trip on the slick tiles in her heels. With
perturbed amazement she watched Chelsea lazily stretched out on a chaise on her side,
appearing amused, and not moving a muscle to help. Mollie set everything down on the
low glass table next to Chelseas chaise, and then she went and dragged a heavy patio
chair over. "Mind opening the wine?" Chelsea asked. "Of course," Mollie said with
sarcastic grace. "I might break a nail," Chelsea said spreading her fingers, "And I see
you dont have any, so…" "I have nails. I just dont have talons," Mollie said looking at
her little French tips, and having had about enough of Chelseas diva attitude.
"Acrylics?" Chelsea asked peering at Mollies hands. "As a matter of fact not," Mollie
replied. "Let me see," Chelsea demanded, reaching and taking Mollies hand.
"Satisfied?" Mollie asked. Chelsea rubbed her thumb on Mollies middle-finger nail.
"You have nice long nailbeds. You could grow amazing nails," Chelsea remarked. "I
had them when I was in high school and college," Mollie related, "Not as long as yours,
but at least half as long as the beds." "Really?! Thats awesome," Chelsea gushed,
sitting up and coming to life as she always did when the subject was nails. "Why did you
cut them?!" she enquired with astonishment. "A little thing called work," Mollie
replied looking around at the posh surroundings, "Something some of us have to do." "I
totally would never work if it meant cutting my nails," Chelsea said laying back on the
chaise. Mollie quickly opened the wine and poured them each a glass. "So how older are
you…like, fifty?" Chelsea asked. Mollie opened her mouth but couldnt get words to
come out. She downed her wine and quickly re-filled her glass. "Do you really think I
look old?" Mollie asked. Chelsea tilted her head from side to side studying Mollies face.
"Its not like you need a facelift or anything," Chelsea offered encouragingly. "Well
thats good news," Mollie answered facetiously. Chelsea nodded, "Maybe just a little
filler here and there, and some botox, and maybe a little…" "Enough!" Mollie sighed,
and she gulped her wine and refilled the glass again.
"So, um, like why exactly did you come here?" Chelsea asked. Mollie took a deep
breath. "I came to ask you to let Sam go," she said. "I divorced him," Chelsea replied
looking perplexed. "Legally yes. But emotionally you have some kind of a…a hold on
him," Mollie said. Chelsea snickered. "You think Im imagining it. You think Im
crazy," Mollie said accusingly. "I dont think youre crazy," Chelsea assured her. "Well,
thank you for that," Mollie laughed. "Youre totally not imagining it," Chelsea said
brightly, "I do have a hold on him." Mollie nearly choked on a sip of wine. "Do you still
have feelings for Sam?" Mollie enquired. "Me? Ive totally moved on," Chelsea said
with a toss of her lustrous long brown hair, "But he wont ever stop wanting me." "I
dont understand," Mollie said. "Seriously?" Chelsea exclaimed opening her arms in a
gesture of just look at me. "My gosh, you really love yourself dont you," Mollie
sneered. "Everyone loves me," Chelsea stated factually, and she raised one knee and put
her fingers on her mound and began to move them in slow circles. Mollie downed the
rest of her glass of wine hoping it might help her respond with tact to Chelseas
unabashed narcissism, but all the wine in the world couldnt mitigate the fact Chelsea
was unashamedly masturbating in front of her. "Is that really necessary," Mollie asked
gesturing at Chelseas circling hand. "Totally, believe me," Chelsea replied. "Fine. Ill
be going then," Mollie snapped. "A toast first," Chelsea said and she sat up slowly and
poured Mollie another glass of wine. "To us being friends?" Chelsea proposed, raising
her glass to Mollies. "Um, ok, sure. Why not?" Mollie replied not wanting to be
insulting. Waiting until Mollie had drained her glass, Chelsea leaned close to her ear and
whispered softly, "Intimate friends." Mollie felt a pang of shock and embarrassment, and
she turned beet-red. But being quite drunk, she also giggled like a schoolgirl despite it
being completely inappropriate to her anxious state of mind. A quizzical look spread
slowly across Chelseas covergirl face. "Did you think I meant it sexually?" Chelsea
asked. "What?! No!" Mollie insisted with a laugh of dismissal. Chelsea smiled and
refilled Mollies wine glass, which she immediately gulped. Mollie laughed. Chelsea
laughed with her…and poured her another glass.
"Im really glad we had a chance to get to know each other," Mollie gushed, "You know
what? I came here hating you, but now I like you. I really really really really like you."
"I like you too," Chelsea said eyeing Mollie carefully from top to bottom. "Can I see
your nails again?" Mollie demanded. Chelsea eagerly held out her hands for Mollies
inspection. "God theyre amazing!" Mollie exclaimed vehemently. "I know!" Chelsea
nodded. "Now let me see your toes," Mollie demanded drunkenly. "First let me see
yours," Chelsea answered. Mollie wrinkled her nose. "Come on," Chelsea encouraged.
Mollie giggled as she pulled off her conservative black pumps and threw them on the tile,
then she stuck her feet out at Chelsea. "I cant see them through your nylons. Take them
off," Chelsea said. "I cant. Im wearing pantyhose," Mollie whined. "Pantyhose do
come off," Chelsea observed. Mollie rolled her eyes in a wide arc. "I knew that!" she
exclaimed with a drunken guffaw. "Want me to help you?" Chelsea offered. "Ive got
it," Mollie insisted, and she clumsily pulled and struggled until she finally she managed
to have her pantyhose turned inside-out dangling from her feet. "Help," she whimpered.
Chelsea smiled and plucked the pantyhose off, then immediately took Mollies feet and
held them against her cheeks. Mollie felt the soft warms of Chelseas face against her
soles, and it made her blush. She cleared her throat and tugged back gently against
Chelseas grip, but Chelsea ignored her and began playfully nibbling Mollies toes.
"What are you doing?" Mollie asked timidly. "Snacking on your toes. You dont mind
do you?" Chelsea asked, but went right back at it without waiting for a reply.
"Um…This feels really weird," Mollie said with a nervous, and intoxicated, giggle.
"Give it a chance," Chelsea said calmly. "Chelsea, Im totally straight," Mollie asserted
softly. "Awesome. Me too. Totally!" Chelsea said with a bright smile. "But…what
youre doing…" Mollie began, her inebriated brain struggling to remain rational.
Chelsea laughed, "Oh come on! Girls are different than guys. Straight girls hold hands.
Straight girls kiss each other. Can you imagine straight guys doing that? Lighten-up!"
"Well, I…" Mollie started. "Guys care about getting off, not learning how to please us,"
Chelsea said. Mollie returned an affirming look. "So like, who can blame us for
touching ourselves?" Chelsea offered. Mollie took another sip of wine and shrugged in
agreement. "Or for touching each other," Chelsea continued, massaging Mollies soles
firmly with her thumbs, and Mollie closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "It doesnt
mean were not straight," Chelsea said softly. "I guess not," Mollie answered, dulled by
the wine and lulled by Chelseas sensual foot-massage. "Of course not," Chelsea
affirmed, "And besides, its just feet. Right?" "Hmm? What? Oh. Yes. Right. Just
feet," Mollie answered as though having to respond was an annoying distraction. "You
have pretty feet, by the way," Chelsea said softly. "Thank you," Mollie answered with
girlish shyness. "In fact, Id even say theyre sexy," Chelsea whispered, and she put
Mollies toes in her mouth and licked between them. Mollie opened her eyes suddenly.
"What are you doing?" she gasped. "Do you want me to stop?" Chelsea asked softly,
beginning to press with her inch-long thumbnails as she continued massaging.
"Umm…I…ohhhh," Mollie sighed. "Ill take that as a no," Chelsea laughed, and then
she pressed her long thumbnails into the fleshy part of Mollies soles just below her toes.
Mollie felt as though she were rocketing to an orgasm, and she pulled her feet back in a
panic. "I have to go! Id better go!" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet. But as soon as
she stood, everything started spinning, and she stumbled back into her chair. Chelsea got
up from the chaise and put her arm under Mollies and helped her to her feet. "The wine
mustve really gone to my head," Mollie giggled. As Chelsea led her into the house and
through the foyer toward the stairs, Mollie pointed and said, "Umm, the door is over
there." "I cant let you drive drunk," Chelsea said insistently, "Youll stay here tonight."
"Thats really nice of you," Mollie slurred as Chelsea led her upstairs, "You know what?
I was all ready to hate you. But I cant help liking you. You really are great!
Youre…youre…" "Awesome?" Chelsea proposed. "Yeah! Awesome! Youre
awesome!" Mollie gushed as Chelsea she led her into the master bedroom. "And about to
get even awesomer," Chelsea muttered as she closed the door behind them.
Morning light streaming around the drapes awakened Mollie, and she opened her eyes
and looked around quickly. Panic chilled her to the bone when she saw a sleeping
Chelsea lying next to her, and realized they were both nude. Chelsea opened her warm
hazel eyes and smiled at Mollie. "Good morning sleepyhead," she said sweetly, and gave
Mollie a tender but lingering kiss on the lips. Mollie sat up suddenly, wiping her mouth
with the back of her hand. "Oh my god!" she cried, and then quickly grabbed her head
and moaned as she flopped back down on the bed. "Somebodys hung over," Chelsea
teased. "Wh-what happened? What did I…did we…do?" Mollie gasped. "Id say just
about everything," Chelsea laughed. "No! I couldnt! Not me! I would never!" Mollie
cried. "Thats what you said last night at first," Chelsea laughed, "But then you like, got
really into it. It was totally hot!" Chelsea leaned to kiss her, but Mollie pushed her away
and jumped from the bed. "I dont believe you!" she cried, "I got drunk and passed out
and now youre messing with me." "If thats the way you want to be about it," Chelsea
said blandly while preoccupied with checking her long nails. "Thats the way it is!"
Mollie insisted. "Whatever," Chelsea said with ennui. "Ill just be going," Mollie said.
"You really need a shower before you go," Chelsea remarked. Mollie sniffed her own
armpits and frowned. "Fine," she mumbled, and she scampered quickly to the bathroom
and turned on the light. Chelsea looked at her diamond-studded Cartier watch, and in a
second Mollie screamed at the top of her lungs. Chelsea smiled wryly and walked slowly
to the bathroom where Mollie was gasping in hysterics as she gaped at multiple
reflections of herself in the surrounding mirrors.
Chelsea leaned against the doorjamb touching-up her perfect inch-long fingernails with
an emery board. Without looking up, she said, "So. Still think was messing with you?"
"Oh god," Mollie sobbed as she stared at the assortment of purple hickeys on her neck
and breasts and thighs, and at the latticework of nail scratches on her back and legs and
ass. "Oh…god!" she repeated over and over. Chelsea set her emery board down on the
marble counter and stood close to Mollie and brushed her streaked hair off her shoulders.
"Dont come near me! Dont touch me!" Mollie cried. "Its a little late to say that now,
dont you think?" Chelsea asked leaving a soft kiss on top of her shoulder, and then
another. Mollie buried her face in her hands and began to weep, even as she let Chelsea
hold her naked body close. "Are you going to tell Sam?" Mollie asked fearfully. "Are
you going to keep trying to convince him to make Jenny cut her nails?" Chelsea asked in
return, arching one sculpted eyebrow for effect. "Thats all you want from me?" Mollie
asked with surprise. "Thats it, I promise," Chelsea said smiling. "You arent going to
make me break up with Sam?" Mollie asked. "Why would I do that?" Chelsea asked.
"So you can sleep with him?" Mollie suggested. "Why would I need you to break up
with him for that?" Chelsea asked, genuinely perplexed. Mollie gritted her teeth and
muttered bitterly, "I really need that shower now." "Its all yours," Chelsea said
graciously as she turned to walk out of the bathroom. Mollie stepped into the large
marble shower and let the multiple water-jets massage her body. She closed her eyes and
let the needle spray of hot water transport her far from her present state of mind. "Isnt
this an awesome shower!" Chelsea said startling Mollie as she stepped in through the veil
of steam. Mollie squealed and tried to struggle free of Chelseas embrace, but Chelsea
engulfed her in a passionate, warm-honey kiss that made Mollies head spin and her
knees weak. Then came the sensation of fingernails raking sensually across her back, and
of toenails dragging up and down her leg. Chelsea flattened Mollie against the marble
and brought her quickly to an explosive climax using her long fingernails. Mollies
knees buckled, but Chelsea held her up. "Now its your turn to do me. Again," Chelsea
whispered, guiding Mollies fingers. "Oh, there is one more thing I insist," Chelsea said,
"You totally have to let your nails grow. I mean, really long. It gets me off way harder."
"You say that as if you think Im ever going to let you do this again!" Mollie said
bitterly. "You say that as if you think you have a choice," Chelsea replied, clutching her
nails into Mollies back and staring her down unblinking, until Mollie lowered her eyes
in surrender.
Chapter 6…
Chelsea was tanning nude on her patio when her iPhone rang. She sat up with an
annoyed huff and glanced at the caller ID. Seeing that it was Marcus Ashford, the private
investigator, she tapped "answer" with the tip of a perfectly-manicured one-inch
fingernail and snapped, "Youd better be calling to tell me you found Genevieve, not to
beg me for sex." A smile spread across her model-perfect features as she listened to his
reply. "Awesome!" she said jubilantly, "Im leaving right away!" "I wouldnt advise it,"
Ashford said, "She took out a restraining order on you. If you come within a hundred
feet of her youll end up in jail." "So then youll have to bring her to me," Chelsea said.
"Not a chance. Kidnapping is something Im not morally capable of, " Ashford stated.
"Thats the same thing you thought about adultery, until you met me," Chelsea laughed.
"Theyre hardly comparable," Ashford retorted. "I wonder if your wife would agree,"
Chelsea said with clear intent. "Go ahead and ruin my marriage. Im not going to prison
for you," Ashford declared, "Im not that big a fool." "Never mind. I know someone
who is," Chelsea mused, and tapped "end" with her long, elegant nail. Then she tapped
"recent calls". "Heath? Its Chelsea. I need you. Now. Dont make me wait," she
ordered in a sultry, urgent tone of voice, and tapped "end" before he could respond. With
a self-satisfied smile, Chelsea leaned back on the chaise. She spread her fingers and toes
admiring all her nails, then she hugged herself and sighed happily.
It wasnt even fifteen minutes until the doorbell rang. Chelsea opened the front door to
an excited, grinning Heath. He started to step toward her, but she quickly slung her
Louis Vuitton bag over one shoulder and came through the door and locked it behind her.
"Lets go," she said curtly as she stepped around him and strutted down the walk. "I
thought…," he began. "Dont," she said. "Dont what?" he asked as he ran after her.
"Dont think," she replied. Chelsea stood by the passenger door of Heaths battered
Camaro and waited while he rushed to open the door for her. "Are we going
somewhere?" he asked. "No, Heath. I called you because I want to do it in your back
seat," Chelsea said sarcastically. Heaths eyes lit-up. Chelsea rolled hers and whispered
to herself, "OMG what a moron." "Get in and drive!" she exclaimed. Heath pouted, but
scurried quickly around the car and did as he was told. "Where to?" he asked. Chelsea
took her iPhone from her Louis Vuitton bag and tapped the screen with her inch-long
pointer nail. "Get on the interstate going west," she said reading the GPS app. Then she
took an emery board from her bag to touch-up her inch-long fingernails.
Heath attempted to make small-talk several times while they were driving, but each time
Chelsea gave him a silent icy stare and he shut up. It was dark by the time Chelsea
ordered him off the Interstate, and told him to turn right at the first light. After driving
another twenty minutes over a circuitous route through quiet residential streets, she
pointed to an apartment building and told Heath to pull into the parking lot. It was unlit,
and Chelsea had Heath drive around until she spotted Genevieves Honda and said, "Pull
up behind that Civic." Heath obeyed. Chelsea said, "I need you to go up to apartment
201 and knock on the door. When a girl with really long black hair answers, tell her very
apologetically that you need her to come downstairs because you just hit her car in the
parking lot." Heath looked puzzled. "But I didnt…," he began, and just then Chelsea
grabbed her nails into his thigh and forced his foot down on the accelerator. The old
Camaro lurched forward and slammed into the Hondas rear bumper. "Why the fuck did
you do that!?" Heath cried, rubbing his sore thigh where Chelseas long nails had been.
"So you wouldnt have to lie," Chelsea said sweetly, "Lying is bad." Heath nodded in
agreement with a besotted look on his face. "When you get her down here, grab her and
shove her in the car," Chelsea replied, "Itll be easy. Shes little and weak, and youre
big and strong and totally hot." Heath beamed, but then he said, "Wait, isnt that like
kidnapping or something? Couldnt I get in trouble?" "Trouble? No!" Chelsea laughed,
"Its her birthday. Were fake-kidnapping her for a surprise party!" "Oh! Ok! I get it!"
Heath enthused, "Wow, youre one incredible chick!" "Glad you noticed," Chelsea said
wrinkling her pretty nose and grinning, and she stroked his arm with her long fingernails.
She saw him tremble from excitement and slipped her hand inside his shirt and lightly
raked his chest with her nails and tugged his earlobe between her teeth. "Now go," she
said, finishing with a lick of her hot tongue down along his stubbly jaw, and a fleeting
kiss on his lips, "And remember, its a surprise, so you cant mention me, ok?" "Got it.
Back in a flash," Heath said as he thrust open the car door and jumped out. "Oh, and
here, take this and put it over her just before you stuff her in the car," Chelsea said
pulling a king-sized pillow case from her Louis Vuitton bag, "We dont want the
neighbors to hear her scream and call the police. That would like, totally mess-up the
surprise." "Right!" Heath said with a wink as he stuffed the pillowcase inside his shirt.
Chelsea watched Heath bound across the parking lot and up the iron stairs to the second
floor apartments. She saw him knock on the door, and in a moment it opened and
Genevieve stood in the lit doorway. Chelsea could see Genevieve react when Heath told
her hed hit her car, and when she saw Genevieve willingly accompany a strange man
downstairs alone late at night to an unlit parking lot, Chelsea sighed to herself, "Sweet
Genevieve. So naEve. Youd never survive without me to protect you."
As Heath and Genevieve approached, Chelsea hunkered down in the seat. In moments
she heard Genevieves muffled cries as she fought ineffectively against Heaths strength.
The king-sized pillow case covered all of her tiny body but her feet, and he easily
muscled her into the back seat. Then he jumped behind the wheel and peeled out of the
parking lot in a squeal of rubber. "Help! Someone help me!" Genevieve screamed as she
tried to claw her way out of the pillow case, her arms tangled in her knee-length black
hair. "Hold still!" Chelsea scolded as she pulled the pillow case off. "Chelsea?! OMG!"
Genevieve cried, "Youre crazy! Let me go!" Chelsea grabbed her wrist and pulled her
hand where she could see it. Chelsea gazed at Genevieves purple-polished fingernails,
which had already grown almost a quarter-inch long, "You started growing them back,
because you knew Id come for you." "No!" Genevieve cried trying to wrest her hand
away. "Yes," Chelsea contradicted quietly, and grabbing a handful of Genevieves
unbelievably-long hair, pulled her face close and paused to stare into her eyes for just a
moment before engulfing her in her suffocating, intoxicating kiss. "Fuck!" Heath gasped,
wide-eyed with awe. The car swerved and horns honked, and Chelsea came up for a
second to admonish him to keep his eyes on the road before resuming the kiss.
Genevieves flailing and protesting ebbed quickly and gave way to a soft moan of
submission. Chelsea climbed into the back seat with Genevieve. "Fuck!" Heath repeated
as he felt the car shake and thump, and listened to the sound of two female voices cooing
and sighing and moaning in harmony. When it was over, Genevieve sobbed softly as
Chelsea coddled her in her arms. "I forgive you for running away from home," Chelsea
said. Genevieve looked up at her with exasperation and incredulity. Chelsea added a
somber warning, "This time."
As Heath pulled into Chelseas driveway, she took her key-fob remote from her Louis
Vuitton bag and opened the garage door. She had him pull inside and then she closed the
door behind them. "You cant watch me 24/7," Genevieve whimpered. "I dont need to.
You wont leave again. Ever," Chelsea stated confidently. "How can you be so sure?"
Genevieve asked sniffling and holding back her sobs. Chelsea replied, "Because you
know Ill find you. And because next time I wont be such a nice person about it."
Heath opened the door for Genevieve, and as she got out of the car he smiled and said
jovially, "Well, nice meeting you. And happy birthday!" "What?!" she cried, "My
birthday isnt until six months from now." Heath looked at Chelsea. She shrugged and
said , "Ooops. My bad." "Hey, um, look, Im sorry for…" he began to Genevieve, but
she slapped his face hard. Rubbing his reddened cheek, Heath sidled up to Chelsea with
a lecherous leer and put his hand on the small of her back. "Seriously?" was all she said
as she cast his hand away brusquely. "Oh come on, you have to give me something. I
deserve something," he whined. "Im sorry, but I told you it would have to wait for your
eighteenth birthday," Chelsea sighed apologetically. "Just a kiss?" he pleaded, and
leaned toward her. But Chelsea put her fingers on his lips and held him at bay. "A kiss
from me is not just a kiss," she said, "Trust me, this is for your own good." Heath gave
Chelsea a hateful glower and swore under his breath, but he dutifully got back in his car
and backed out of the garage. Chelsea slipped her arm under Genevieves and led her in
to the house. Genevieve slunk toward her room, which was just off the kitchen, and she
stood in the doorway staring vacantly at the empty closet and sheetless bed. "All my
things are back at the apartment," she sighed. "Tomorrow morning youll cancel the
restraining order on me, and well drive up and get your stuff as soon as youre back from
taking Jenny to school," Chelsea said kissing the top of her head. Genevieve looked up at
her and took a breath as though she were about to protest being put right back to work as
Jennys chauffeur, but thought better of it and exhaled. "My car is up there too," she
observed. "You can take mine," Chelsea offered. Genevieve continued, "And the whole
back end is bashed-in, thanks to you." "Yeah, it was pretty romantic of me," Chelsea
replied proudly as she admired her ten perfect inch-long fingernails. "We seriously need
to talk, Chelsea. I mean, very seriously," Genevieve said resolutely. "You dont have
any sheets. Lets have a slumber party. Well drink wine and eat cold pizza and talk the
whole night," Chelsea said scratching Genevieves back with her long, perfect nails.
Genevieve looked into Chelseas warm hazel eyes. "Just talk, nothing else," she said
emphatically. Chelsea crossed her heart with her inch-long pointer nail and nodded, "I
promise."
Chapter 7…
It was 6:30 AM and Genevieve lay on her back staring up at her reflection in the large
mirror above Chelseas bed. Her knee-length black hair was tangled around her, her skin
covered with thin red lines and purple hickeys. Her eyes were bloodshot and her lips
were swollen and tender. Keeping deathly still, she swept her eyes to one side, seeing
Chelsea was sound asleep, and then swept them in the other direction and back to
Chelsea. Genevieve gasped when she saw Chelsea now staring at her with a familiar
look of lust. "Please Chelsea, no! I hurt everywhere!" Genevieve whined. "Its your
own fault, you know," Chelsea said. "What else is new?" Genevieve sighed sarcastically.
"You were gone almost three weeks. We had a lot of catching up to do," Chelsea
explained as she stroked Genevieves arm with her nails, "In fact we still do." "I have to
get up so I can make Jenny breakfast!" Genevieve exclaimed. "Youve got plenty of
time," Chelsea insisted. "Well…um…I need to take a shower!" Genevieve responded,
but as the words came out she realized it had been the wrong thing to say. "Awesome!
Me too!" Chelsea said slipping over Genevieve and taking her hand as she got up pulling
her urgently to the bathroom.
Jenny came padding downstairs barefoot, dangling her little sandals from one long-nailed
pinkie by the straps. "Are you driving me to school Aunt Genevieve?" she asked seeing
her preparing breakfast. "Good morning, Jenny. Its nice to see you again, too,"
Genevieve said, disdainful of Jennys entitled rudeness. "So, are you?" Jenny asked,
ignoring the lesson in manners, "Driving me?" "Yes," Genevieve replied coldly.
"Awesome," Jenny replied blandly as she began to crunch her cereal. After a few bites
she wiped her mouth and smiled at Genevieve and said, "Im glad youre back." "Why?
So I can drive you around?" Genevieve asked bitterly. "No, thats not it. I know lots of
people with cars," Jenny answered quietly. "Dont mind me, I had a really rough night,"
Genevieve sighed. "I forgive you," Jenny said sounding exactly like Chelsea. "Youre
really glad Im back?" Genevieve asked with a bright smile. Jenny nodded, taking a
mouthful of cereal, and after she swallowed said, "Now that Mommys got you to obsess
over, she wont be obsessing over me." "Gee, thanks," Genevieve responded
sarcastically. "Youre welcome," Jenny replied sweetly, again sounding exactly like
Chelsea, and she stuck out her feet and said, "Put my shoes on for me, ok? I just buffed
my nails." Genevieve gritted her teeth but kept silent, and began to buckle Jennys shoe
straps. Jenny peered down at Genevieves hands and then spread out her own fingers and
remarked, "Wow, Aunt Genevieve, my nails are longer than yours now. How come you
cut them?" "Youre too young to understand," Genevieve replied. "I guess youre right.
I cant understand a lot of stuff grownups do. Like, why anyone would purposely make
themself ugly," Jenny said with a shrug. Genevieve turned red. Jenny slid off the
counter stool and grabbed her pink backpack. Then she handed it to Genevieve to carry,
and she skipped merrily toward the door to the garage.
Genevieve opened the rear passenger door of Chelseas Range Rover. "Mommy lets me
sit in front like a grownup," Jenny said with a tone of nasty entitlement. "Suit yourself,"
Genevieve answered slamming the rear door shut. "Wheres your car?" Jenny asked. "It
needs fixing," Genevieve answered with a hint of bitterness. "Did you crash it?" Jenny
asked. Genevieve glared at her. "Why are you such a bitch, are you getting your period
or something?" Jenny asked angrily. Genevieve suddenly buried her face in her hands
and started to sob. "Dont cry Aunt Genevieve," Jenny pleaded, "Ill be quiet."
Genevieve took a deep breath and wiped her eyes and said, "Its not your fault." "Well
duh!" Jenny retorted rolling her eyes, exactly like Chelsea. Genevieve sighed. Jenny got
on her knees on the seat and put her hand on Genevieves shoulder, "Its going to be ok,
Aunt Genevieve." "Thank you, Jenny," Genevieve said with a little smile. She could
feel her mood brightening, because if little Jenny had retained empathy and compassion,
it meant Chelsea wasnt unbeatable. "Hug?" Jenny said sweetly. Genevieve melted into
the little girls embrace. Jenny brushed a wisp of Genevieves long black hair from her
face with her long thumbnail, rested the tip of her nose against Genevieves and
whispered, "Kiss?" "Oh my god!" Genevieve shrieked as she pushed Jenny away.
"Youre scaring me Aunt Genevieve!" Jenny cried, and tears began to flow from her
sparkling blue eyes. Genevieve stared at Jennys look of innocent confusion and she
folded her arms against the steering wheel and buried her face. "Im sorry Jenny," she
said with a deep, heaving sigh, "I think Im having a nervous breakdown." "Well, do you
think maybe you could have it after you take me to school?" Jenny snipped. Genevieve
took a deep breath and started the engine. They didnt speak again until Genevieve
pulled into the drop-off lane at Jennys school. "Can I use your phone?" she asked
Jenny, "I dont have mine." "I guess so," Jenny answered and handed Genevieve her
pink-clad iPhone. Genevieve typed out a long text and sent it off, then she thanked Jenny
and handed her back the phone. "Youre picking me up this afternoon, right?" Jenny
asked. "Have a nice day at school," Genevieve said. She watched Jenny walk from the
car, almost immediately a throng of children began to follow alongside her, practically
tripping over one another jockeying for position closest to her. Genevieve shook her
head with mixed feelings of envy and pity. She couldnt decide whether Chelseas
tutelage had been a blessing or a curse for the little girl.
As Genevieve headed back, she heard a police siren, and when she looked in the mirror
she saw the lights flashing. "Pull to the curb!" came an authoritative voice over the
loudspeaker. Genevieve rolled her eyes and complied. "Step out of the vehicle and place
your hands on top of your head!" the voice demanded. Her heart racing, Genevieve did
as she was told. Two police officers approached with their weapons drawn. "What did I
do? Was I speeding? Whats going on?" Genevieve cried. "Keep your hands where I
can see them!" the nearest officer barked. In moments he handcuffed her behind her
back. "Youre under arrest for grand theft," the policeman said, and proceeded to read
her her Miranda rights. "This is my friends car! I just drove her daughter to school, and
now Im on my way home!" Genevieve protested, "Her name is Chelsea Larson. Call
her! Shell clear it up!" "Ms. Larson was the one who reported the vehicle stolen," the
other officer said dryly as he helped Genevieve into the back of the cruiser.
Back at Chelseas sprawling home, a red Hyundai pulled up and waited with the engine
running. Wearing a sheer cover-up over her string bikini, Chelsea slipped her feet into a
pair of flip-flops and walked out to the street. She came up to the car and tapped her
inch-long fingernails on the drivers window. The window rolled down, and inside was a
boyishly-handsome young man with messy hair and a few days stubble. "Hi, Tom. Im
Chelsea," she said warmly. The young man looked at her with piercing blue eyes and
said dryly, "I know who you are. Wheres Genevieve? She texted me to pick her up."
"Yes, I know," Chelsea replied, silently relishing how Jenny had instantly and dutifully
forwarded her the text Genevieve had sent using her iPhone. "Genevieves taking a
shower. She asked me to invite you in," Chelsea said. "I think Ill just wait here," Tom
said. "Nonsense," Chelsea insisted softly, gazing deep into his eyes, "I want to get to
know the man Genevieve is in love with." "She told you shes in love with me?" Tom
said with surprise. "Of course," Chelsea replied. "It wouldve been nice if shed said it
to me first," Tom muttered. Chelsea reached in and took his hand gently. "Please come
inside," she said sweetly. "I dont know. From what Genevieve told me, youre not to
be trusted," he said. "Genevieve can be…dramatic, at times," Chelsea said with a smile.
"No shit," Tom chuckled, "She described you as …well, the word she used was
succubus." "OMG! She totally knows I never go down on guys!" Chelsea exclaimed.
"Uhh, thats not what succubus means," Tom laughed. "Oh? What does it mean?"
Chelsea asked ingenuously. "It means…" he began, but Chelsea opened the door and
said, "You can explain it to me inside," as she helped him out of the car.
"Wow, this is some house!" Tom exclaimed as he glanced around the marble foyer.
"Thank you. I decorated it myself," Chelsea replied stepping out of her flip-flops. Tom
saw her staring at his Birkenstocks and promptly removed them. "The marble is cold,"
he said with a little laugh. "Youve got nice feet," Chelsea said. Tom blushed and
looked at her suspiciously. "I just meant, you know, most guys have ugly feet, and yours
arent," Chelsea elaborated. "Oh. Well, um, thanks," Tom answered awkwardly. "Do
you think I have nice feet?" she asked stepping up so her toes were tip-to-tip with his.
"I…um…" he stammered. "Well do you?" she asked placing one foot on top of his.
Tom swallowed hard and nodded, trying not to look her in the eyes, which was difficult
since she was standing facing him at mere inches. "Do you like my pedicure?" she
asked curling her toes to lightly dig her longish gloss-red toenails into the top of his foot.
"Its…uh…yeah, sure, I like it," he said with a cough. "See? That wasnt so hard,"
Chelsea said with a smile and dragged her toenails along his foot and toes before she took
his hand and began to lead him across the foyer toward the glass door-wall that opened
onto the patio and pool. As soon as they passed through the doorway, Chelsea shed her
cover-up, and she smiled when she heard Toms little gasp. "Thank you," she said
turning around, "I was afraid maybe you were only attracted to girls with no curves, like
Genevieve." "Shes got curves," Tom retorted defensively. "I wasnt trying to be
mean," Chelsea responded, "I think Genevieves hot, too. OMG isnt it amazing how her
little nipples get absolutely huge when shes turned-on!" Tom blushed. He looked at his
watch, then down at his feet. Chelsea stroked the top of her longish red big-toe nail
gently up the front of Toms shin. "Youre shy, arent you," Chelsea observed. "What I
am is in a committed relationship, with your best friend," he stated. Chelsea leaned-in
and rested her hand on his shoulder. "Shy guys totally turn me on," Chelsea whispered in
his ear, and then gave his neck a series of soft kisses while tracing her inch-long
fingernails down and up his arm. "My god! Genevieve wasnt exaggerating about you!"
he gasped. "She wasnt exaggerating about you, either," Chelsea replied in a sexy,
syrupy undertone, as she lightly clawed her long fingernails across the crotch of his cargo
shorts, feeling it instantly swell and harden. "Stop it!" Tom beseeched her. "Dont you
want to play with me?" Chelsea asked in a hurt-little-girl voice. Just then his cellphone
rang, and he took it out of his pocket and gave a startled look at the screen. "Municipal
Jail?" he read out loud, then pressed "ignore" and shrugged, "Must be a wrong number."
But it immediately rang again, and this time he put the phone to his ear and said,
"Hello?" Instantly Chelsea bumped his arm and caused his phone to fly from his fingers
and into the pool. "Shit!" he cried as it sank to the bottom, and he turned to Chelsea with
a horrified look and screamed, "Why did you do that?!" "It was an accident," she said.
"Not!" he cried, "You did it on purpose!" "I didnt!" Chelsea insisted, and a fountain of
tears sprung from her warm hazel eyes. "Hey, dont cry. It really felt like you did it on
purpose. Im sorry if I accused you. Please, dont cry," Tom pleaded. "Hug?" Chelsea
asked sniffling. Tom rolled his eyes and said, "Sure," as they embraced. Chelsea spread
her fingers over his back and he felt the press of her inch-long fingernails, as she brought
her crotch in contact with his. "Um…" he began. Brushing his lips with hers as she
spoke, Chelsea said, "Kiss?" Toms knees buckled from her intoxicating warm-honey
kiss, and she pressed her nails harder into his back to keep him standing. The longer she
kissed him, the harder his head spun, and when he could open his eyes he was on his back
on the chaise with Chelsea straddling him. With the dexterity of a magician, she flung
off her string bikini, undid his pants and freed his throbbing erection. "Why are you
doing this?" Tom asked weakly. "Because you want me to," Chelsea replied, and before
he could refudiate, she placed a long-nailed finger against his lips. "But mostly because I
can," she said with a smile, and she reached up under his shirt and clawed his chest
playfully with her natural inch-long fingernails as she raised herself and then slid quickly
down impaling herself on his erection.
Chelsea left Tom sleeping soundly on his back on the chaise in the aftermath of an hour-
long sexual marathon and padded silently to the kitchen. There was a voice message on
her iPhone from the police department saying they had recovered her Range Rover and
arrested the driver, who claimed to be her friend and insisted she had permission to drive
it. Chelsea returned the call and, in her best portrayal of sheepish innocence and remorse,
corroborated Genevieves story. Then she took an emery board from the kitchen drawer
and sat at the table leisurely touching-up her inch-long fingernails. In half an hour the
garage door opened and closed, and an enraged and frazzled Genevieve stomped into the
kitchen and slammed the car keys on the marble counter. "Where is he?" Genevieve
demanded. "You mean Tom?" Chelsea asked, calmly admiring her long nails, "Your
boyfriend? The one you didnt tell your BFF about?" "Where is he?!" Genevieve
repeated more loudly. "Out by the pool," Chelsea answered sweetly, and as Genevieve
started for the patio door she added, "And by out I mean, like, completely out."
Genevieve froze in her tracks and buried her face in her hands, sobbing. "Whats the
matter with you?" Chelsea asked. Genevieve turned around with a look of desperation.
"Whats the matter with me?!" she shrieked, "The matter with me is you purposely
arranged to have me arrested so you could have sex with the man I love!" Chelseas jaw
dropped with a shocked look on her model-perfect face. "Oh dont even try denying it!"
Genevieve cried. Chelsea cast her a stern gaze. "First of all," she began, "Getting you
arrested was a mistake. I totally freaked when I saw my car was gone, which is why I
reported it stolen. As soon as I remembered I said you could use it, I called the police
and straightened it out. Second of all, how did I know you even had a boyfriend, much
less that he was coming here this morning?" Genevieve pondered, not fathoming that
Jenny had informed on her. "And what did you mean by the man I love?" Chelsea
asked. "Nothing. Nevermind. Its too late," Genevieve muttered sadly. "Dont be such
a drama-queen. It was just sex. No big deal," Chelsea said gazing fondly at her inch-long
nails. "Its a huge deal to me!" Genevieve screamed. "He tried to resist," Chelsea
offered as though it would mitigate. "Really?" Genevieve asked with the desperation of
someone willing to seize at anything to avoid heartbreak. "Really. It took me almost five
whole minutes!" Chelsea replied with astonishment.
Tom came rushing and stumbling from the patio. "Genevieve!" he cried with open arms.
"Dont touch me. Dont even come near me," she said with the anger of betrayal. "Im
sorry! I love you, Genevieve! Youve got to believe me! I…I couldnt stop her…it was
like…I cant describe it!" he exclaimed. "You dont have to. I understand," Genevieve
sighed, softening. "Can we please talk about this?" Tom pleaded. "Lets go home," she
said tearfully, holding out her delicate hand to him. "You cant go. I wont let you,"
Chelsea stated folding her arms across her perfect breasts. "Goodbye, Chelsea,"
Genevieve said dispassionately. "Youll be back," Chelsea said bitterly. "You need to
get help," Genevieve said as she and Tom brushed past Chelsea. "At least lets say
goodbye like friends," Chelsea proposed softly. Genevieve stared at her for a moment.
"Hug?" Chelsea said opening her arms. Genevieve rolled her eyes and shook her head,
and then walked out the front door.
Chapter 8…
"Im sorry, I cant let you see the doctor now. This lady has the next appointment," Dr.
Bruce Cronins receptionist explained, pointing to a frail fortysomething woman seated in
the waiting room, "Ill see if I can fit you in at the end of the day." "See, thats a
problem," Chelsea said. She went and sat across from the small woman and glared
silently at her, unblinking. The woman began to fidget, and in moments she got up and
ran out. "Problem solved," Chelsea said smirking at the receptionist as she walked to
Dr. Cronins door and went in. Dr. Cronin was engrossed poring over a patient file, and
Chelsea scraped her nails slowly down the hollow wooden door. Cronin dropped the file,
and the papers scattered across the parquet floor. "Oh my god! Chelsea!" he gasped. His
face was pale and ashen. She turned around smiling. "You remembered me. Or was
it…these?" Chelsea asked teasingly, displaying her ten perfect inch-long natural
fingernails with a cat-like flourish. "Im no good as your therapist Chelsea. Please let
me refer you to a colleague," Cronin said flipping through his rolodex and trying to
remain professionally detached. "No," Chelsea said resolutely, "I wont see anybody but
you. Besides, you have to. You took an oath." "Considering our history, it would be
completely unethical. Besides, to treat you properly I need to be objective, and after what
happened between us I dont think thats possible." Chelsea felt that familiar tingling in
her loins. "If you dont treat me, and I get worse, you know youll never be able to live
with the guilt that you abandoned me when I needed you most," she said choking back
tears. "Which one of us is the psychologist?" he asked sarcastically. "You are, Dr.
Cronin," Chelsea said demurely as she sat on the couch and began removing her open-
toed heels. "Do not get comfortable!" he warned her. "Im already comfortable…just
being in this room…with you," Chelsea said rubbing her fingers between her toes as she
pulled her feet up on the couch and then stretched her legs languidly. "You havent re-
decorated. It feels like I was just here yesterday…its like Im home again," she said
scratching the leather cushion with her longish red toenails, "By the way, speaking of
home…how is your family?" "Much better since you went out of our lives," Dr. Cronin
said coldly. "That was cruel," Chelsea said, "Ive never seen that side of you before."
"Im sorry," he said. "It kinda turns me on," she said with a lusty smile. "Dont! Stop
it!" he warned. "That summer I spent in your house…it was the only time in my life I
really felt like I belonged somewhere," Chelsea stated. "You didnt belong in my house,
you belonged in therapy," Bruce Cronin retorted. "And here I am," Chelsea noted.
"Look. I let my weakness get the best of me once, but I refuse to let it happen again," he
said firmly. "And hows that working out for you?" she snickered, "You havent taken
your eyes off my nails since I walked in." Cronin turned red. He jumped from his chair
and stormed around the desk to stand in front of her, his features contorted with rage. "I
am not interested in having sex with you, Chelsea!" he said through clenched teeth. "Im
not interested in having sex with you either, Bruce. In fact, its been ages since I was
interested in having sex with anyone," she said with the kind of ingenuous earnestness
only a pathological liar could manifest. Chelsea held her knees up to her chest, smiling,
and she laughed, "I bet you can cure me of that, too." Then she spread her knees apart
revealing her pussy in all its glistening pink glory. Cronin covered his eyes. "Please just
leave, Chelsea," he begged frustratedly. "I was deflecting," Chelsea said contritely,
ignoring his plea although closing her knees together, "But I really do feel like my life is
imploding, and youre the only one I trust enough to turn to." "I wish I could help you
Chelsea, but…," he began. "If you wont treat me as my therapist, at least talk to me,
like a friend. Please, Bruce? I swear Ill be good," Chelsea said, her voice breaking, and
she sat up and patted the seat next to her. As she saw Cronin looking at her nails, she
withdrew her hand, allowing her nails to scrape lightly across the leather leaving four
light tracks. Dr. Cronin felt his entire body tingle, but he took a deep breath and cleared
his throat. "You promise to be good?" he questioned. "I promise," Chelsea said, hand
over her heart. "This is against my better judgment," he sighed as he sat down. "I really
appreciate you doing this for me," Chelsea said looking at him with her warm hazel eyes,
and a single tear trickled down her model-perfect high cheekbone. "I think that might
actually be the first honest tear Ive ever seen you shed," he remarked. "See. Im already
making progress," Chelsea said with a little sniffling laugh, and wiped the tear with the
back of her hand. Cronins face had a detached expression, but she saw him glance
covertly at her inch-long natural fingernails, and watched his pupils dilate.
"Why dont you start by filling me in on how youve been these past few years," Dr.
Cronin asked in his most professional demeanor. "Ive been awesome, of course,"
Chelsea replied concisely. Cronin closed his eyes and took a breath. "What have you
been up to," he rephrased. "Well, I got my degree," she said brightly. "Thats good," he
affirmed, "Where are you working?" "I dont work," she said. "How do you support
yourself then?" he asked. "Oh, well, Sam made a lot of money and…," Chelsea began.
"Sam…thats your boyfriend?" Cronin asked. "Husband," Chelsea said, to Dr. Cronins
flabbergasted look of surprise. "You got married?!" he exclaimed incredulously. "You
sound shocked," she noted. "I am shocked," Cronin admitted. "Why? Dont you think
Id make an awesome wife?" she asked, sounding a little hurt. Dr. Cronin took a beat to
summon all the tact he could muster. "I think you had some serious issues that wouldnt
bode well for a lasting marriage," he said. "Well, it didnt last. So you can pat yourself
on the back, Doctor," she said with nasty sarcasm as tears ran from her warm hazel eyes.
"Im sorry," Bruce Cronin said contritely. "And how are things between you and Joan,"
Chelsea asked, monitoring his nonverbal responses intently. "Fine. Lets get back to
you," he said hurriedly. "Did she keep growing her nails for you?" Chelsea asked
making a little scratching motion with her hand. Cronins eyes bulged, and he held his
breath. Then he looked away. "She didnt, did she," Chelsea commiserated, "Now Im
the one whos sorry for you." "I appreciate your concern, but…" he began. "I can make
her grow them again," Chelsea offered brightly. "Thanks, but no. I respect her right to
keep whatever fashion she wants or doesnt want," Cronin said. "But nails are more than
a fashion to you, Bruce," Chelsea said, moving her hands gracefully in his view.
"Theyre just nails," he asserted adamantly. "Are they, Bruce?" Chelsea whispered, and
lightly scratched the back of his hand with her clear, natural inch-long fingernails. He
turned red and began to tremble, and a satisfied smile spread slowly across Chelseas
beautiful face. "Please dont do that," he pleaded quickly. "But theyre just nails,"
Chelsea said sarcastically repeating his words, and scratched slowly up his arm. "Very,
very long nails," she added with soft breathiness.
Chelsea turned sideways and laid her bare feet in Cronins lap. "Chelsea, you promised,"
he gasped. "I meant it when I promised it," she said sweetly. "Please take your feet
away," he asked trying to sound calm and detached. "You dont really want me to," she
said. "Yes I do," he said. "Then take them away yourself," she said tauntingly. Bruce
took hold of Chelseas ankles, but she resisted, and even as he pulled with all his strength
he couldnt budge them. "Did you forget how strong my legs are, Bruce?" she asked
teasingly. "Please Chelsea," he sighed. "Rub my feet and I promise Ill take them
away," she said. "Another promise?" he said sarcastically. "If you wont rub them,
theyll have to rub you," she said impishly, pressing the side of her foot against his
crotch. "Ok! Fine!" he gasped, and began to knead her feet in his hands. "That feels
awesome," Chelsea sighed, "You always gave the best foot-rubs." Suddenly she grasped
his thumbs between her first and second toes and squeezed hard. She pressed the rest of
her longish red toenails into the backs of his hands, and Dr. Cronin gasped. They locked
eyes silently for several moments, and then Chelsea let go of his hands and sat up.
Cronin glanced at his hands and saw the little c-shaped intents from her toenails. Chelsea
whispered, "You always liked my pedicure, too, Bruce." Before he could say anything,
she gave him a wet kiss on the cheek…and then slowly another and another. "Chelsea,
dont," he pleaded calmly. "I feel so alone, Bruce," she admitted in a tiny, breaking
voice. He turned and watched tears run down her model-perfect cheeks. "Sex isnt the
solution," he said. "Bruce!" she exclaimed indignantly, then sniffled, "I dont want sex.
I just want a little affection, thats all." Chelsea wept softly. Dr. Bruce Cronin sighed.
"Hug?" she asked in a tiny, insecure voice. Bruce turned to Chelsea and embraced her.
"I know how much you must have missed me, Bruce, but Im back now," she whispered.
"Chelsea, you practically destroyed my marriage, my family and my career," he said, as
kindly as one could say it. "All I did was what you wanted me to," she said. "What I
wanted you to?!" he repeated. "What you still want me to," she whispered, and she
stroked his cheeks and neck with the tips of her inch-long natural fingernails, "What
everyone wants me to." Cronin gasped, and began to shiver uncontrollably. "Its ok,
Bruce," she soothed, engaging him with her warm hazel eyes, "You tried your hardest to
resist me. Thats what counts…for both of us." "Chelsea…," he began. "Kiss?" she
asked sweetly, and then her lips were upon his. Dr. Bruce Cronin felt himself spiraling
down into the dizzying intoxication of Chelseas warm-honey kiss. It was a feeling he
knew all too well, a feeling so overwhelmingly erotic it was impossible not to succumb.
"I locked the door when I came in," Chelsea said as she pulled him down on top of her.
Bruce felt Chelsea tug his shirt from his pants and slide her warm hands up his back. He
held his breath in anticipation of the touch of her incomparable inch-long fingernails, the
touch that he remembered drove him beyond the realm of bliss. "I just filed them this
morning," Chelsea whispered in his ear as her nails skated across his back with a piquant
hiss, leaving burning trails in their wake. Dr. Cronin moaned out loud with pained
pleasure. "It was cruel of Joan to cut her nails, but everythings ok now," Chelsea
whispered as she raked his back again. Bruce realized that once again hed have to hide
the long, red welts and the guilt of infidelity from his wife, but he couldnt stop himself.
He let Chelsea undo his belt and slide his pants down to his ankles with her soft, warm
feet. He let her grip his boxers with her irresistibly-sexy toes and slide them down his
legs as well, and then scratch her longish red-polished toenails up the back of his legs and
dig them into his ass. Then she spread her legs, and he felt her soft, warm hand take his
rock-hard cock and slip it into the tight inferno of her pussy. Chelsea bit his neck and
sucked hard. "Chelsea, dont! Joan will see!" he cried, but she ignored him and sucked
harder, and she raked his back once more with her long fingernails while she thrust her
hips up against him in a pounding rhythm. Suddenly Chelsea rolled them both over, and
they fell off the couch and landed on the carpet with Chelsea on top, where she quickly
engulfed him in another of her suffocating kisses. "Just lie back and leave everything to
me," she said with a smile and a toss of her long, shimmering dark-brown hair. Sitting
up, she began to roll her hips slowly. When she had his cock all the way up inside her,
she constricted her pussy around it with the crushing grip of a Burmese python. Cronins
eyes bulged, and he dug his fingers in the carpet grunting and groaning loudly. Chelsea
flashed a self-satisfied smile. She loosened her grip on his cock just enough so it could
slip, and she rode him hard and fast, staring deeply into his eyes. Despite her rapid and
forceful gyrations, she wasnt even breathing hard, not even after almost ten minutes of
relentless pounding. Suddenly she threw her head back and her body shuddered and
quaked. When her orgasm subsided, she smiled at him and pulled her t-shirt off over her
head and fondled her large, erect nipples. Chelsea moaned with pleasure and raked her
long fingernails through his chest hair, leaving white trails on his skin that reddened.
Then she did it again, making him grimace from the sting. Chelsea was wilder and even
more sexually selfish than Bruce remembered. Suddenly he felt an explosion of sharp as
Chelsea gripped her inch-long nails into his pecs. "Ow! Ow!" he cried grabbing her
arms and pulling, but she merely tightened her grip even deeper and began to ride him
again, ascending even more rapidly to her second climax. Chelseas eyes rolled back in
her head and it felt to Bruce like her orgasm shook the entire room. She leaned forward
and drove her hot tongue inside his mouth and rocked her hips rapidly, pounding him like
a jackhammer. In a couple seconds she had a third and even more explosive orgasm.
"One more for me and then you can cum," she told him as she dug her inch-long
thumbnails in his shoulders and rode his cock with animal frenzy, bouncing her tight,
perfect ass off him like dribbling a basketball, until she arched backward and squealed
with delight. "Home stretch!" she announced, and began riding him furiously. As
Bruces grunts came louder and closer together, Chelsea slowed down and drowned him
in one of her sweet, suffocating kisses, scratching her nails up and down his ribcage at the
same pace as she was riding his cock. Chelseas orgasm was momentous. The fire in
her loins calmed to a warm smolder, which was as close as Chelsea could ever get to
being satisfied. She picked up her t-shirt, stood and smoothed her skirt down. "Bruce, I
think you cured me," she said with a bright smile, "I totally feel renewed!" Dr. Cronins
eyes bulged with helpless exasperation. "Dammit Chelsea," he whined weakly, "Y-you
promised to be good." She laughed, "Good? I was awesome!" "I didnt cum!" he
whined. "Thats not my fault. Its not like I stopped you," she said with a shrug, then
she looked at his erection, winked and added, "Im sure you can handle it yourself. After
all, thats what you used to do every time after our sessions." Dr. Cronin turned red.
"What, you didnt think I knew that?" she laughed. As she picked up her shoes, Chelsea
said earnestly, "It feels good to be back in therapy. I shouldnt ever have stopped. So,
um…shall we say same time next week?" "W-what?! Hell no!" Dr. Cronin cried. "My
bad," she said teasing his flaccid but still-sensitive cock with the tip of her longish gloss-
red toenail, "I didnt mean to make it sound like a question." "Chelsea, I…," Dr. Cronin
began, but his words were replaced by a long, shuddering gasp when she reached down
and slowly glided her perfect natural inch-long fingernails along his naked body from his
crotch to his neck with a light hiss. "Bye for now," Chelsea cooed, flashing him a sultry
smile.
-
Sophie
I have never seen such long, amazingly beautiful fingernails, especially on the line of job that she was in. Her name tag said "Hi, I'm SOPHIE". She was a shelf stacker in my local convenience store, and the first time that I saw her nails I almost gasped for air. They were uncannily perfect, unpolished and yet they were white and perfectly square. Very square. As in she (or however does her nails) didn't bother rounding the edges of her long, beautiful fingernails.
All her nails were easily an inch and a half long, and they looked so wafer thin and yet I'm guessing that they have to be incredibly strong for her nails to grow this long. I was tempted to ask her how she got nails that was so beautifully long, and curving so slightly. Her nails were perfect. Absolutely perfect. Even though they were unpolished they were so white it almost appeared as if she had a french manicure.
I went over to her, pretending to browse at the stocked items on the shelf, reaching over and pretending to read a box every so often. I'm not sure if she noticed me at all, and I kept my distance, occassionally stealing a glance at those wonderful fingernails as she looked over her clipboard, checking items and ticking things. I glanced at how those beautiful fingernails were wrapped around her pen. They looked so breathtaking I was struggling with a dry throat, and gave a cough every now and then.
Sophie was working quite quickly, and I saw her take out a little cutter from a pocket on her blue, cloth apron and slice the tape off the boxes. She did it really quickly and when she finished, she just put the cutter one of the boxes. I was so wishing that she would lose this little cutter and use her nails to cut and slice the boxes apart. With her 1 1/2 inch long nails looking as dangerous as they are, I'm sure that those boxes would be no problem for her.
Then it happened. She reached over and grabbed the cutter without looking but she accidentally hit it, and it disappeared under the shelf. She sighed as she glanced at me, with a concerned look in her face, and she scratched her forehead with her nails in annoyance.
I quickly came over as she squatted down, spread her fingers on the floor to look down to see if she can reach the cutter. I almost died as her nails were fully displayed in their beauty to me. They looked unbelievably beautiful and breathtaking, and they looked even more amazingly strong. They looked even longer than they did before
"I can't see it" she blurted out "Damn" she said as she stood up. She pur her hand on her forehead and then ran her fingers through her long, blonde hair.
"Oh, um, I'll have a shot at it" I said, my heart thumping
"Nah, it's OK, I've only got 3 boxes left to do for this stock, then I finish my shift" she said. She glanced at me one more time and then returned to her checkboard, ticked off a couple of things and then positioned one of the boxes in front of her. She then placed her right hand on top of the box and placed her thumbnail on the tape. She pressed down, while I was staring at what her nails were doing. she punctured the tape so easily with her long, square thumbnail, and then she sliced down the box, slicing the tape so easily I was wondering why she used that little cutter for. She had the tools for the job, literally at her fingertips.
After she sliced down she ripped the box open and took some cans out, and stacked them on the shelves. After she had taken out a few cans she noticed I was still staring at her nails.
"What? haven't you seen a girl use her nails before?" she smiled as she took another couple of cans and stacked them again on the shelf. My heart was thumping as I sighed, really slowly
"Not like that. Your nails are amazingly strong" I gasped. She looked at me and smiled
"Thanks" she said as she continued stacking. "I don't normally use my nails like that unless it was really coming to the crunch. I wanna get outta here soon" I breathed out slowly as I watched her complete stacking the cans from the box. She then turned the box over, and with her right index nail punctured the tape slightly before slicing the tape apart with her 1 1/2 inch finernail. She then flattened the box and stacked it on the other flattened boxes next to her.
"Are you gonna keep watching me slice these boxes?" she asked, smiling. Gosh her smile was amazing. She had the most breathtakingly blue eyes, that reminded me of the lush blue waters of a Carribean beach that I once went to.
"I would do anything to watch what you're doing" she looked at me as if I was some sort of weirdo
"Wow, really? I guess you're the first one to see my nails slice things to ribbons" she said as she positioned another box in front of her. She put her knee on the box and punctured the tape again with her right hand index nail, and slice the tape apart again.
"Your nails must be amazingly strong. What, do you actually slice things to ribbon, do you?"
"Yeah, of course" Sophie said as she started stacking cans into the shelf again "I use my nails as tools all the time" my heart was pounding even more
"Have you done that on fruits?"
"huh?" she asked, puzzled
"Ha..have you used your nails on apples, or pears before?"
"What to slice apples to ribbons? My nails aren't that strong, although...." she said thoughtfully as she formed a claw with one hand to examine her nails, while she kept stacking with the other
My heart was pounding like one of those huge japanese gongs as I examined her nails. They looked so perfectly shaped, and just looking at how sharp and pointed the edges of her square nails were was enough to make my knees start going like jelly
"You can probably dig your nails into those cans if you really wanted to"
"Oh heck yeah. Hmm I don't think so" she said, jokingly as she turned her attention to her stacking
"Anyways, hope you finish on time" I said
"Thanks" she said, smiling. I turned to go off to my own business, and I glanced back to her nails as she stacked those cans on the shelf. She seemed to have lost interest and seemed intent to stack the shelf. I stopped a fair distance away from her, and pretended to keep looking at the items on the shelf, much as what I was doing before. I watched her slice the last box with her index nail. I was amazed how easily she could slice that tape. what I noticed about Sophie's nails were that they looked so wafer thin at the end, which meant they were probably impossibly sharp. The square edges at the ends probably made her nails even sharper
Sophie probably had absolutely no idea that her nails were driving a guy like me crazy. But just as well. I would probably keep coming back to this shop anyways because of her. I could not stop thinking about how strong and unbreakable her nails were, if only they were that strong. How I wished she could show me how strong her nails were by puncturing one of those cans with her nails. That would be something, but I guess while her nails appeared to be very strong, I'm quite sure that they weren't that strong.
I came back to where Sophie was, but she had disappeared, but the boxes were all still there. I turned the corner on the shelf and I reached down to look at a box on the bottom shelf. I could hear footsteps but I didn't look up, I thought it was just another customer. Suddenly I felt something sharp run across the back of my T-shirt
"Aww" I whimpered as I turned. Sophie had walked passed me, smiling, and then put her index nail on her lips and kissed it. She winked at me in a flirty kind of way. I couldn't believe a girl with such beauty and equally amazing fingernails was flirting with me. I stood there stunned as she disappeared through the doors that said in big, black letters "STAFF ONLY"
-
Stacey
Stacey
Stacey came onto her desk after a long holiday. She had long, dark blonde hair, and was quite short in stature, and she wore an old, dark green jumper with little white balls of fabric.
"Hallo" Stacey said, as she waved her hands at me. It didn't click at first but then it did. Her nails were much longer than when she first left 6 months ago.
"Hallo" I greeted back "How was your vacation?"
"Yeah, not bad, thanks"
"You're a bit tanned" I said
"Yeah, I know" she said. She started logging onto her computer. The clicking of her nails were hypnotic to say the least. Her nails were at least 3/4 inch long, and she had no polish on them. They curved slightly, and they appeared like she didn't even think what shape to file them. They were squarish, and was very white. Her long internails clearly contrasted with the whites of her nails
"I see you've grown your nails while you were gone"
"Yeah, I couldn't help it" she said, still clicking away at the keyboard "I forgot to buy nail clippers"
"You silly, how did you do that?" I asked
"Long story" she said, finally turning to me. She examined all her nails, which happened to just be the same length "Just say get every thing you need at the duty free before you get out of the airport"
I stared at them, pretending innocence when in fact I could see a tent starting to appear in my pants. Thankfully we had a box of drawers next to us where I could hide behind. Stacey noticed my interest, and held them up to me. I couldn't believe it. They were perfectly curved, like steel hard claws, and she was showing them to me
"They look really strong" I said finally "Any chance you used them instead of knives?" I asked, innocently
Stacey snickered at the suggestion "Yeah, they are, mostly". She clicked them on her desk. "Gosh, this computer is taking forever to load" Stacey continued to click on her desk, not knowing that her now perfect fingernails were giving me so much pleasure, just staring at them
"How did the natives take your nails?" I asked
"They liked them" she said " Especially because they're so common where I went"
"A lot of asian countries usually have women with long fingernails"
"Yeah, I know" Stacey said. She stared cleaning her nails, using her thumbnails to clear underneath her nails. Watching her slowly preen her nails was awesome "Do you like my nails long?"
"Like it" I said "I really love them"
"Good to hear" she said "So you don't mind if I click away on the keyboard?"
"Nope, not really" I said "I'd love to see you rip something apart with them, though"
"Really? Like what?" she asked, intrigued.
"Don't you think that you can rip things apart with your nails?" I said.
"What, like fruits?" she asked
"Yeah, you know, just to test how strong they are?"
"I guess I could. What did you have in mind?"
"You think you can tear an apple apart with your nails now?" I asked. Stacey examined her nails more closeley. Then she started wiping the top of them, as if she was polishing them.
"Yeah, I can probably tear an apple apart. Do you want to see now?"
"I have an apple in my bag" I said
"OK, give it to me then, and I'll give it a try" I reached into my bag, and took out my red apple. I threw it to Stacey, who caught it one handed. She passed it from palm to palm first, and then made a claw with her left hand, in which case she lined up her nails on the side, and proceeded to sink them into the fruit. Her nails sank so effortlessly all the way through, until all 3/4 inches of her nails were buried. She then formed a claw with her other hand, and sank the nails of this hand next to the nails of her left hand. Stacey then started to tug and I heard a little crack, and then a more sickening crack as she tore the apple flesh apart. I couldn't believe her nails withstood such enormous pleasure. In less than two minutes she held in both her hands the pieces of an apple.
"Well what do you know" she said "Enormous strength on my nails and I didn't even know it" she said, as she started licking her nails clean. How I wished I was doing that myself
"What else do you think you can tear apart?" I asked
"Um.... maybe the usual, bananas, grapes, whatever" she said
"Steel?"
Stacey snickered and shook her head "A little too hard for my nails, Chris"
"Are you sure? I asked sarcastically
"Well, now that I think about it...." she winked as she started typing onto her computer
Stacey didn't really like talking when she was working, and the only thing I did was steel glances at her nails all morning. I don't think Stacey minded, so long as she got work done, and I kept out of her way. Before I knew it, it was morning tea break. Stacey got a nail file out and started filing her nails. She knew I was staring, and held them up in my direction a couple of times before resuming filing. "What shape do you think, Chris?
"Pointed, like claws" She looked at me funny "Square is probably more like it" she said, as she slowly filed each of her nails into a square shape. every now and then she would blow the filings in my general direction, just to tease me. Eventually, after filing, she held them up for her inspection, and I saw a beautiful sight underneath them. They were so smooth.
"Give me your hand, Chris" which I did. She held them up to her, and then put her index nail on top, making sure than the square edge was on my skin. "That is really sharp, Stacey"
"I know" she said "I just wanted to test them" she said. She pulled them across the top of my hand. My eyes were wide as her nail went past my skin, which sliced open and started bleeding. Instictively I withdrew my hand but she held it in place
"Ooopsy daisies" Stacey said, examining her handy work "Sharp AND Strong"
"Holy crap" I said. Stacey put her index nail again on another part of my hand and dragged her nail across again, opening another bleeding wound on my hand. She seemed satisfied with her handy work. She wiped her nail on my skin to get rid of the blood "Your nails are really sharp". Stacey just smiled
After the morning tea break, we got back to work, but usually Stacey was distracting me with either typing with her nails clicking away, or when she was reading something, she would click her nails on her desk. She knew it was distracting, and she knew all about my desire for long fingernails. She just wanted to tease me.
Stacey disappeared for lunch, and afternoon tea break. Abot 5 minutes to go before the end of the day, I suddenly heard Stacey scrape her nails on the desk, very slowly, but I had no doubts as to what she wanted. I smiled, and she smiled back. She got up and slowly dragged her nails on her chair, making a long, rippling sound. she glanced back at me, and I got up a few minutes later. I headed straight for the sauna on the top floor of the building, and when I got in, I heard the door slam firmly shut behind me. Stacey was staring at me with that look.
"Do you know how hard my nails are, Chris?" she asked me
"Tell me" I said. Stacey came very close to me and put her hands on my shirt, and dragged down. The sound of her nails on the fabric of my T-shirt was hypnotic
"You probably don't know just how hard and strong they are. Feel them" she said. she offered her nails to me, and I felt them. They were so smooth, and hard. I couldn't believe that someone like this would even contemplate turning me on with her nails
"Gosh they're so strong" I said
Did you expect them to be soft?" she asked. She started to unbutton my shirt, and I unbuttoned her pants.
"No, I expected them to be really strong"
"Oh, they are, baby, they are" she said "Just the strength you want. Steel hard"
I kissed her, and then took off her shirt. We were both butt naked in a few moments, and then lust took over. She went on top of me, and before long, she was hammering me, squeezing my hard stick inside her. She clawed me all over, on my legs, my chest, where she opened long, bleeding gashes. Finally we both came, and she went limp, and lay on top of me for a while.
"That was great, baby" she said. "It's amazing how quickly you get hard with minimum work... especially with my nails"
"Oh, baby you were great" I said
"Thanks baby. Bring a coconut tomorrow. I haven't ripped that apart for a while." Stacey winked at me.
I smiled back. Perhaps I will
-
TGIF
TGIF…by Stryker
Steve Brady had been in medical sales until his company was bought out and he was
deemed "redundant", and unceremoniously laid-off. The only job he could find was at a
large telemarketing company, which paid just enough to cover his monthly expenses, and
fortunately he had a good savings, so he wasnt forced to downsize his lifestyle
drastically. Telemarketing was a huge step down in status, and most of his co-workers
were much younger than him. That wasnt entirely bad, because some of the women
were quite hot, and Steve didnt mind a little eye-candy while sitting all day having
people slam the phone in his ear. Steve could pass for younger, and if any of his co-
workers asked he lied and said he was thirty-five, but because there were plenty of good-
looking guys in their twenties who were constantly vying for the womens favors, Steve
didnt think he had a chance. Plus, Steve was slightly-built and only five-nine, and most
of the other guys were tall and cut. Some of the women seemed pretty immature, and
some were a bit flaky too, and besides, he knew from experience the pitfalls of office
romances.
There were two women who took cigarette breaks together and hung with each other at
lunch, who Steve thought were the most attractive women in the place. Ones name was
Erika. She was about five-seven with long gorgeous legs, and she wore her collar-length
dark hair in a funky style with red streaks, and she had a really hot body. What really
turned Steve on though, was Erikas fingernails. Very unusual among the sea of
chopped-off nails and clownish fake paste-ons, Erika had ten perfect square-tipped real
nails all about a half-inch long that she kept unpolished but that were naturally white like
french tips. Steve loved to watch Erika smoke, the way she held a cigarette with her
long-nailed fingers gave him wood. The other womans name was Alexis, but everybody
called her Lex. She was no more than five-one, but very well-proportioned. She had
short sandy-blonde hair, and quite the opposite of Erika, she dressed eternally in jeans, t-
shirt and flipflops, and she never wore makeup. Lex had long nailbeds but only a tiny bit
of clear nails, just to her fingertips but not past. Still, Steve thought she had attractive
hands, and because she always wore flipflops, Steve had a chance to notice that she had
the cutest feet hed ever seen. Unlike her long, slim fingers, her toes were deliciously
plump. Steve wouldve been happy to sleep with either of them, but on breaks the two
women were always either chattering with each other or texting someone
else…boyfriends, Steve assumed…so he never had a chance to exchange more than a
quick pleasantry with them.
One Friday the boss asked if a few people could work late. Most of the people didnt
want to ruin their Friday evening, but Steve overheard Erika and Lex saying they could
really use the extra money, except that the driver of their carpool that day wasnt staying.
Steve had nothing better to do than work, so he said, "I didnt mean to evesdrop, but
whereabouts do you each live? If it isnt too far from me, Ill be glad to give you a ride
home." Erika and Lex looked at each other and back at Steve with smiles, and Erika said,
"Wow, thatd be awesome. Were roommates..we live out by the Mall, is that too far?"
It was diametrically on the opposite side of town from Steves apartment, but he lied and
said, "No, its fine." They finished work around ten PM, and walked down to the parking
lot. "This is so nice of you," Erika said, and Lex nodded in agreement and smiled. Erika
was definitely the more outgoing of the two, and the one with the more polished social
skills.
Steve hit the unlock button on his key remote, and there was a quick double squeak from
the alarm. "Holy shit!" Lex exclaimed, her eyes wide with awe, "A Chevelle SS!" Steve
smiled. "A 70, right?" she said, running her hand lovingly along the fender. "Yeah! Its
a 70. You know your muscle cars!" Steve remarked with pleasant surprise. "Big block?
Four-on-the-floor? Posi rear end? Muncies?" Lex chattered. "Oh God, you two boys
arent going to talk cars all the way home are you?" Erika whined. Lex gave her an
exaggerated look of pity, "I promise well talk hair and makeup half the way." "Shut up,"
Erika said, pretending to be offended. "Just as long as we dont talk food," Steve piped
in, "Because Im starved." Erika and Lex looked at each other, there was some mental
telepathy, and Erika turned to Steve and said, "How about we hit Chilis? Our treat, for
driving us home." "On one condition," Steve said. Erika and Lex looked at each other
uneasily. Steve smiled. "Im tired, will you drive?" he said, offering the car keys to Lex.
"Oh my God, I will so drive!" she shrieked, snatching the keys from his hand. "I have to
move the seat up. Sorry," she said. "No problem," Steve said, settling into the passenger
seat. "Can I put these here?" Lex asked, dropping her flipflops into the floor well by
Steves feet, "I like to drive barefoot." The Chevelle fired up with a thunderous rumble,
and Lex slipped it into first and gently started off. The road was pretty much deserted
and after a couple of red lights, Steve said quietly, "You can give it some gas if you
want." "Cool," Lex grinned, and when the light turned green she gunned it and side-
stepped the clutch. Tires squealed and smoked and the rear end fishtailed a little but Lex
kept it on track, banging through the gears, downshifting and accelerating into the curved
interstate on-ramp, and flooring it as she merged onto the highway. "Ive never met a girl
who could drive like you!" Steve exclaimed, "Its so…" "…Butch?" Erika sneered from
the back seat. "I was going to say, sexy," Steve said. Lex downshifted and pulled into
the fast lane, blowing by a string of cars and taking it up to 95mph. "Damn, I think Im
going to have an orgasm," she sighed. "I think Im going to barf!" Erika whined, "Slow
the fuck down, will you?" Lex let off on the gas. Steve said, "Its ok, you can open her
up." "No, Erika wasnt kidding. She will barf," Lex laughed.
At Chilis they got a big order of nachos and as they ate, Erika asked, "So, um,
Steve…whats your story? I mean, youre like, a little…um…mature…compared to
most of the guys at work." Steve smiled, "You can say old. I promise I wont have a
heart-attack and die." Erika said, "Youre not old. I meant it, mature. Most of the guys
are such boys. And the couple older dudes are like, losers. I mean, that car didnt come
cheap…what did you used to do?" Steve gave a brief recount of his history, noting that
Erika seemed genuinely intrigued. Lex just scarfed down nachos, and Steve surmised she
was thinking ahead to getting back behind the wheel of his Chevelle. "Married?" Erika
asked. "Divorced," Steve responded. "Kids?" she asked. "No," Steve said.
"Girlfriend?" she asked, licking nacho sauce from her half-inch square-tipped natural
nails. "Erika!" Lex chided. "Nobody serious," Steve said quietly. There was silence for
a few moments, then Steve asked, "So, what about you two?" "You mean, do we have
boyfriends?" Erika asked. "Huh? Well I…" Steve fumbled. "No, we dont," Erika said,
"But the night is still young." "Er-i-ka!" Lex exclaimed. "What?" Erika asked
innocently. Lex looked at her annoyed. Erika leaned over and whispered in her ear.
"Shut up!" Lex giggled, shoving her friend playfully. Steve smiled with the uneasiness
of someone on the outside of an inside joke.
They finished their meal and had coffee, and when they walked outside Erika took a
cigarette from her pack and offered one to Lex, who took one, and then to Steve, who
declined. "Ive cut down to 3 a day, and the next step is quitting altogether," he said.
Erika lit up, and Lex took the lit cigarette from her momentarily to light her own. "I hope
it doesnt frustrate you to watch us smoking," Erika said. Steve shook his head. What
did frustrate him was watching Erikas hands while she was smoking, with her incredibly
sexy nails. He wouldve liked to jump her right then and there. Fortunately they put
their smokes out halfway through, and they all walked to the car. "If you want to drive
its ok, after all it is your car," Lex said to Steve, but her eyes told a different story. She
so wanted to get behind the wheel of Steves 70 Chevelle again. "You drive. Its easier
than giving me directions," he said. "Shit," Erika muttered. "Aw does my driving scare
you, sweetie?" Lex asked with obviously fake concern. "Want me to sit in back with
you?" Steve asked with genuine concern. "Actually, I would," Erika said, "I know Im a
chicken, but I cant help it."
Steve got in the back seat next to Erika, and Lex started the engine and jabbed the
accelerator with her bare foot. Erika let out a little scream, and Lex laughed and went,
"Puck puck puck puck," imitating a chicken. Erika leaned forward and swatted Lex on
the shoulder. Lex popped the clutch and the tires squealed as the force of acceleration
threw Erika back in her seat. She squeaked and clutched Steves arm. "Sorry about my
nails" she said off-handedly, noting the half-circle indents shed made in his skin. "Dont
be. I like them," Steve said, but immediately wondered if he shouldnt have said it. But
he neednt have worried. Erika lightly scratched her nails on the back of Steves hand,
and when he looked at her she flashed him a coy smile. Then she rested her hand on his
knee and scratched her nails up his pants leg slowly. Steve took a deep breath. She
slipped her foot out of her shoe and up under his cuff and stroked his shin with her toes.
Erika was turning him on like crazy. He began to say something but she put her
forefinger to her lips and nodded toward Lex. Steve swallowed hard. He looked at her
and she smiled and licked her lips. Just then they turned into their apartment parking lot,
and Lex said, "Well, here we are. Sorry we kept you out so late." "Want to come in?"
Erika asked. "Hes probably beat," Lex said quickly. "Are you beat?" Erika said with
innocent sweetness, while she brushed the tips of her nails over the hard bulge in his
pants, "You can come in for a little, cant you?" "Your roommate…" Steve started.
"…Is just being concerned, but she really wants you to come in too. Dont you Lex?"
Erika asked, phrased more as a statement than a question. "Sure," Lex sighed.
As soon as they got inside the apartment, Erika pointed Steve to the couch, and she put
on some soft music and dimmed the lights. Lex disappeared through a little hallway off
the living room without a word. "Maybe we should call it a night after all," Steve offered.
Erika sat down next to him. "I thought you were into me," she said. "I am…" Steve
began. "So do you want to fool around or not?" she asked forthrightly. Steve sighed and
smiled and put his arm around her shoulders and she moved close to him closing her eyes
and parting her lips. While they kissed she scratched her nails over the back of his hand
and felt him tremble. "I know how to drive you nuts," she whispered in his ear, tracing
the tips of her nails around his other ear. The sound of her long natural nails filled his
head and he sighed deeply. "Oh yeah I do!" she whispered and scratched her nails softly
and slowly down his cheek and neck while she traced her lips back to his and they kissed
again. Steve felt her hand in his lap and heard his belt flap open and his zipper go down,
and then sharp nails gently grasping his rock-hard dick as she freed it. She scraped his
shaft lightly once, and then returned her hand to his face and scratched his cheek softly
again, and ran her nails around his ear again, and then scratched back down his cheek and
neck. Meantime Erika rested her bare foot into Steves lap and rubbed his throbbing cock
with her soft, warm toes. She kissed his cheek and neck and drove her tongue into his
ear, while she traced the tips of her long fingernails around and around and between his
lips. Steve put his hands up under her blouse and unfastened her bra, and began fondling
her breasts. Erika moaned softly and dug her sharp nails lightly into his neck while she
bit gently. Steve slid his hand up her skirt. Her panties were soaked and the scent of her
desire filled his nostrils. She dug her nails in harder when she felt his fingers touch her
mound through her panties, and she spread herself to welcome him. Steve pulled her
panties down and began fingering her hard, swollen clit, and Erika latched her mouth
onto his neck and sucked madly. Suddenly she stopped and slid down to the floor on her
knees. Erika took Steves hard cock in both hands and she kissed and licked the head
slowly. He started breathing very quickly and she felt his balls tighten, so she backed off.
Erika smiled up at Steve and scratched both of her long, square-tipped thumbnails softly
down the underside of his shaft and said, "How bout we go to the bedroom."
Erika led Steve to the little hallway. There was a small linen closet on the left and a door
on the right. Erika opened the door and led him into the dark bedroom. "Wait…how
come theres only one…" Steve began but she licked his neck and scratched her nails
against his raging hardon and his words and thoughts trailed off into a deep moan of lust
and desire. They fell gently onto the bed and quickly shed their clothes while Erika
continued to kiss and lick him and scratch him with the tips of her long, natural
fingernails. She got Steve on his back and slowly engulfed his cock with her hot, wet
pussy. "You dont mind if Im on top," she said as an afterthought. Steve just moaned
with pleasure and reached for her breasts. She scratched the backs of his hands
sensuously with her nails while he fondled her hard nipples. Suddenly he felt other hands
go under his and take over fondling Erikas breasts. He opened his eyes---it was Lex, on
her knees behind Erika. "Is he nice and big…like you like?" Lex asked. "Uh huh!" Erika
moaned. "Im happy for you, baby," Lex said, brushing back Erikas hair. Erika turned
her head and Steve watched the womens succulent, tender lips touch softly, and after a
couple of teasing kisses, their mouths opened to welcome each others tongues just before
they locked lips and engaged in a long, impassioned kiss. Steve reached out and touched
Lexs leg, but she drew back quickly. "Im bi, but Lex thinks she isnt," Erika explained.
"Shut up!" Lex whispered. Seeing a look of trepidation on Steves face, Erika said, "Its
cool. Just relax and go with it." She slid up and down on his cock while she reached
forward and lightly raked his nipples with her square-tipped natural half-inch nails, and
she watched his expression transform to total bliss.
Erika leaned down and gave Steve a long, deep kiss and scratched her nail tips around his
ears and down his cheeks, meanwhile Lex was tongue-bathing Erikas soft, smooth
shoulders. When Erika finished kissing Steve, Lex was right there with her lips and
tongue at the ready for her. Erika scratched her nails gently on the side of Steves neck at
the same time she fingered Lexs clit with her other hand. Lex was so turned on she was
rubbing her foot up and down Steves leg, and the thought of her plump little toes turned
him on further. "Thats right baby, oh youre doing it so good," Lex moaned. "Thanks
lover," Erika whispered, and she turned to Steve and asked, "How bout you? Am I
doing it good for you too?" Steve moaned and nodded. Erika smiled. "You like it when
I use my nails!" she drawled, raking them slowly across his chest. "Oh God!" Steve
gasped, and Erika laughed. "Lex does too. Dont you baby?" Erika teased, raking her
nails gently over Lexs hard nipples. Lex let out a half-moan, half-scream. "God, Erika,
you just made me cum!" she gasped, and she took Erikas face forcibly and gave her a
long, hard kiss. Steve felt Erikas cunt constrict against his cock, and she dug her nails
into his neck. "Ohhhhh, Lex, you just made me cum too," she moaned. "Hey! I
helped!" Steve said. "Mmmmmm, yes you did! With your big, hot cock!" Erika
exclaimed, and she ground herself into him hard. "Ohhh, Lex, youve got to experience
this. Hes huge!" she moaned. "Erika, you know I dont…" Lex started, but then Erika
licked her neck and ear and kissed her face and scratched Lexs boobs with her nails and
Lex started to pant rapidly. Erika lifted herself up and turned around with her ass to
Steves face and sat down with her pussy on his mouth. "No…dont…please…" Lex
whined, but Erika lifted her and impaled her on Steves cock. She held Lex around her
waist and moved her up and down on Steves cock while she sucked her neck. Lex
complained out loud and pushed against Erikas shoulders but Erika held tight and
plunged her tongue into Lexs mouth, and in a few moments Lex succumbed and moaned
softly. Erika lightened her grip around Lexs waist, and when she saw that Lex was
riding Steve on her own, she gently raked her nails up and down Lexs back. "Whaddaya
know? Looks like youre bi after all!" Erika whispered. "Shut up!" Lex panted, and
quickly gasped, "Shit I think Im gonna cum!" Meantime, Erika ground her pussy
against Steves face, and he licked and sucked and nibbled her hard, swollen clit. Erika
reached down with one hand and scratched her square-tipped long, natural fingernails on
Steves side and moaned, "Mmmmm, you really know how to eat pussy. Oh, God,
youre making me crazy!"
Suddenly Lex moaned out loud and Erika screamed, "Oww!". Steve looked up and Lex
had her nails dug in to Erikas back. "Shit! Lex! Do that to him…he likes it!" Erika
cried. Steve felt a sudden sharp, stabbing sensation on his thighs…Lex was digging her
nails into him…and though Lexs nails werent long, they were very sharp, and she
scratched him hard, with total abandon, as she lost control to her orgasm. Lex collapsed
against Erika, and they kissed tenderly. Erika helped Lex off, and she curled up into the
fetal position, still panting and sighing. Erika dismounted Steves face and turned back
around toward him and lowered herself once again on his throbbing cock, riding him
faster and faster. He reached up to fondle her breasts but she grabbed his arms with her
half-inch square-tipped nails and dug them in, harder and deeper as her moans got louder
and higher. She leaned all the way forward and sucked his neck. "I cant hold off much
longer!" Steve croaked. Erika released his neck from her mouth with a pop, and
whispered, "Then dont." She sat up, raking her nails softly down his cheeks, neck and
chest, pistoning herself hard and fast on his cock. "Ohhhhh, fuuuuuck," Steve yelled as
he began to go over the top. "Ohhhhhh, baaaaayyyyybeeeee," Erika yelled as she felt her
own orgasm swelling. Steve grunted again and again as he shot inside her, and she
scratched his arms while her orgasm swept through her. "Lex! Kiss me!" Erika cried,
and Lex forced herself to her knees and took Erikas face in her hands and plunged her
tongue into her lovers mouth.
The three of them collapsed on the bed, Erika in the middle with her arms around Lex
and Steve. Lex turned her head to Erika and whispered something in her ear. "Lex has
something she wants to ask you," Erika said out loud to Steve. "Shut up!" Lex protested.
"Lex wants to know if she can ride your cock again," Erika said. "Thats not what I
said!" Lex insisted, "I said drive your car again." "Well, I want to know if I can ride
your cock again," Erika said scratching her long nails lazily through Steves chest hair.
"The answer to both of you is a giant yes," Steve laughed. "She really does want to ride
your cock too, trust me," Erika said in a loud whisper. "Shut up!" Lex giggled.
-
The Weekend
The Weekend
"Bye!!" shouted Clara gleefully as her parents made their way to their car for a well deserved weekend break.
"Be Good, and dont forget to walk the dog" shouted Claras mum as her Dad was beckoning her to get into the car.
"We will"; replied Clara, anxious to see the car disappear down the road.
Clara was your standard 18-year-old girl, she thought she knew everything and felt that she could take on everything life could throw at her and still have change left in her pocket afterwards. She was a vibrant young girl, she had long brown locks flowing from her head resting gently at the base of her back, with her deceptively angelic face boasting large almond brown eyes which could stir the soul of most healthy young males, followed by her shapely mouth witch caught the light revealing her dark coloured lips contrasting against her pearl white teeth, which broke into a slight smile as the sound of her parents car withered with the late afternoon sky. Her curvy figure silhouetted against the refection of the street lamps. She held great pride in her figure. Her breasts were well rounded and firm, he slender figure showing off her flat stomach sporting a her belly ring, and although she only stood at 55 she had long toned legs with her rounded petit bum, tucked nicely in her tight denim jeans. Clara was a good-looking girl, and boy did she know it. She reached for the door handle to enter back into her house, revealing her long black curved fingernails in which she noticed a little of her nail varnish was starting to flake. "Thats a job I need to do," she thought, admiring her long talons hanging from the ends of her fingers. Clara loved her nails, they were her pride and joy ands she often dreamt of having long nails whist she was a little girl. They looked so pretty and feminine. She went into her room, got her trusted file and went to work continually extending her hands admiring her nails. She ran the file across the tips of her nails several times shaping them into a pointed V shape, gently scratching against her arm analysing the sharpness leaving faint white marks against her skin. She was daydreaming with herself making a mental picture of what she hoped to achieve this weekend with the house to herself, well…. nearly herself. She had to live with her brother 3 years her younger who she despised. She had never been close to her brother and felt that he was given special treatment by her parents for being younger. He always rowed with Clara and her parents always defended her brother and scalded her. He was the bane of her life. She blew on her freshly painted nails and smelt the sweet smell expiring from them. "Perfect" she said smiling admiring them again. Her nails were approx an inch long from the tips of her fingers, which rested against her petit hands they were slightly curved in a hook shape with the filed pointed tips. Clara loved her nails, but not as mush as using them.
She proceeded downstairs into the lounge and glanced at the clock, 7.07pm. Clara usually liked to go out in the evenings on Friday and Saturday, but resulting in a rather heavy weekend last week, her finances stretched only to provide for one night out this weekend, and that was for her friends birthday party tomorrow night in which she was eagerly awaiting. Her brother was in the lounge engaged with watching WWF Wresting on TV. Unamused at this Clara demanded that the channel be changed to one of her favourite shows which she watches every week without fail.
"Put it on three, you know I watch Holy Oaks every Friday", said Clara annoyed knowing that her brother never watches Wresting.
"Get lost I am watching this" blurted out Tom griping the remote
"You never watch this," replied Clara in an angered tone.
"Well", I do now, so piss off you annoying bitch.
Angered by this Clara walked over to her brother and sternly said "you are only doing this to annoy me", "give the remote now!!!"
Tom remained oblivious to Claras presence and dismissed her request.
Angered by this, Clara reached for the remote and grabbed it with one hand attempting to prise it away from Toms hand. Tom was deliberately trying to annoy her and he was succeeding.
Tom tightened his grip and pulled the remote out of Claras hand who was virtually now on top of him in the tussle. Clara knew that she could not match Tom for strength so decided in an alternative course of action and moved her fingers over the clenched hand of her brother squeezing against the remote. Her finger retracted and four long black nails came to rest just below Toms knuckles with her thumbnail clamping around the outsides in between his thumb and first finger. Claras grip tightened with 5 of her long sharp nails digging into her brothers skin. Clara squeezed and watched her brother immediately jolt back in the chair in discomfort as her nails were embedded into his hand and heard him give out a pathetic yelp in pain. Tom released the remote, his hand stung as the nails went deeper in. you can have it" squealed Tom… "Owwww! "aghhh" "let go!!!!". The remote dropped against the floor. Clara looked into her brothers face, his eyes wide open, his cheeks stretched showing his facial expressions of pain. Clara looked at her brothers hand, her nails firmly dug into his skin. Clara was not happy she needed to prove a point. Her parents couldnt come to Toms aid now. Tom needed to be taught a lesson, and she was going to be the teacher. Clara was only exerting a small amount of her strength in digging her nails. The pointed ends were compensating for this. She increased her grip feeling her nails go deeper into her brothers hand. Tom shrieked as her nails broke the skin and blood began to trickle inbetween his fingers. Tom was in a great deal of pain, she watched her brothers eyes as she slightly relaxed her grip, watched his face start to relax and then exerted more pressure and dug her nails in deeper watching he face tense in agony as the blood flowed more easily over his hands and between his fingers. "Thats should do it thought" Clara. She had made her point so to speak. She withdrew her hand from Toms much to his relief. He immediately grasped his hand with his other and looked at the wounds the same time Claras eyes peered down to examine her handywork. On his hand was bruising surrounding the 5 red half moon imprints on his hand with a wash of blood around the bleeding half moon shape. Clara felt a sense of pleasure in seeing the wounds picked up the remote and returned to her chair. Tom horrified by his wounds screamed "look at what you did you silly bitch, Im bleeding". Clara replied "not as bad as I wanted you to though" hiding a sadistic smile. Angered by his sisters apparent victory over him Tom felt a hating rage towards his sister. His face screwed up his fists clenched as he walked over menacingly to his sister. "Im going to kick the shit out of you," he warned menacingly, and before Clara could react he sprang on top of her. She covered her face as a barrage of punches landed on the top her head. She felt slightly disorientated and curled up trying to protect herself from being hit full on by her the punches raining down on her. She was scared, frightened, what was he going to do to her? She cried, "stop get off" several times which fell upon death ears. She instinctively grabbed on to his face. She sank her nails deep into his cheeks and raked down with all her might. She heard her brother howl in pain. She looked up. Both his cheeks had four long angry cuts. They were dark red with blood seeping over the rest of his cheeks. The scratches looked deep and nasty… very nasty. Toms face felt like it was on fire. His eyes swelled up and he wiped his hand against his cheeks. The bottom of his hands became red as the blood smudged across his hands. He looked at his hands in shock. He was bleeding. His face was bleeding! Clara seized the initiative. She regained her composure and launched her foot right inbetween her brothers legs. Tom doubled over in agony. Angered by her brothers brutal assault against her, she kicked her brother twice again in the stomach whilst he was down. "Dont ever hit me again, you hear? NEVER hit me". As her brother was groaning on the floor, she felt her job was not complete and raked her nails across the back and sides of her brothers neck in hard fast swipes. She heard the sound of friction of her nails as they dragged across his skin. Immediately she heard the scream of her brother as he felt her nails clawing across his skin followed by fresh cuts that appeared on his neck. She quickly grabbed her bag and ran for the door. She knew that if she stayed the situation will get even worse and she (her nails) might do damage that would be with her brother for the rest of his life, such as a scars or even worse the loss of his eyes. She ran out of the house, her brothers groans diluting the air around her. She ran down the end of the street, looked back and was pleased to see her brother hadnt pursued her. She stopped to run her hands through her long brown hair in attempt to neaten it up. Caught her breath and continued down the street. She would stay around her friends house tonight.
"Sure you can stay here," said Sindy in a soothing voice. "I take it was a bad fight then?…. what happened?"
"He was being a dickhead with the remote, teasing me" replied Clara so I dug my nails into his hand for him to let go". Sindy glanced towards Claras nails and winced at the thought of them digging and raking across skin.
"Then what asked Sindy?"
"Well he went absolutely crazy and started punching the crap out of me. I then clawed his face and neck." Said Clara quietly.
"Badly? Is he bleeding?" asked Sindy concerned
"Yeah" said Clara in awkward reply, I scratched his face to shreds"
"Oh", replied Sindy, "yeah I guess you better stay her tonight"
"Thanks" said Clara scratching an itch on her arm. The cracking sound her nails made against her skin relieving her of the itch. Clara looked at her nails again. "Yeah", she said to herself looking at her long talons "I scratched the shit out of him".
-
THE AU PAIR
THE AU PAIR
The younger brother of one of my oldest mates was getting married and my mate invited
me to guest in his house whilst in-town for the event. I graciously accepted, and arrived
late in the afternoon the Saturday the wedding was to take place in the evening. My mate
and his wife occupied the master suite of course, and they had two young boys aged
approximately four and six, who occupied one of the two smaller bed-rooms, the other
which was on the other side of the house adjacent to the kitchen, was occupied by their
nineteen year-old au pair Olivia who was called Livie. That left me the leather davenport
in my mate's study, which was about half a meter shorter than I.
I quickly showered and dressed for the wedding, and all six of us: my mate, his wife,
Livie the au pair, the two boys and I met out front and shoe-horned ourselves in-to my
mate's automobile. My mate's wife refused to allow one of the boys to sit on her lap lest
it muss her evening gown, so the older boy sat between myself and Livie in the rear seat,
and the younger boy sat on my lap. It was rather a long ride to the church, and my mate
and his wife were engaged in a lengthy discussion of wedding ceremony arrangements,
which left me to make conversation with the boys and Livie the au pair.
Livie was quite fetching, with lovely porcelain skin, sparkling gray-green eyes and long
red hair tied back with a small ribbon. She had a small mouth with full, glistening deep-
pink lips. She wore a calf-length skirt wrapped tightly round her slender but nicely-
curved bum, and a sleeve-less low-cut blouse that left little of her ample bustline to one's
imagination. She had on tall-heeled open shoes with thin straps but her quite shapely legs
were bare, and although her un-varnished toenails were trimmed short, she had
attractively-plump toes and slender ankles, one of which was adorned with a thin gold
chain. Of course whilst I recounted all those details first, in fact it was her hands which
caught my attention straight-away. She had small but strong-looking fingers with small
but nicely-arched nailbeds, perhaps one centimeter and a lovely set of un-varnished clear
translucent tips of approximately one to one and a half centimeters, filed quite
symmetrically to ever-so-slightly rounded points. They looked to be exquisitely sharp
and probably quite strong as none were short as if recently broken. Her thumbnails in
particular were quite long and beautiful. She told me she was planning on reading
ancient history at university, and was only serving as an au pair until classes commenced
in the fall. We had quite a nice conversation. Livie seemed flattered that I was so
attentive to her chosen subject, which most young men her age found boring. Truth be
told, I also found the subject rather flat, however she was radiantly beautiful and one of
those types who gestures with her hands whilst she speaks, which guaranteed her my
fullest attention.
At the church I was occupied re-acquainting myself with mates I hadn't seen in years,
and Livie was occupied keeping her two young charges out of mischief and out of their
parents' hair. During the ceremony she sat in the pew ahead of me with her arms round
the shoulders of the two boys who sat to each side of her, and I barely paid attention to
the ceremony as my attention was riveted to her long, sharpened fingernails and my
thoughts pre-occupied with imaginging how those nails would feel against my skin. At
the reception, Livie was seated at the table with children and I was seated amongst my
former mates and their wives. As the lone bachelor in the group I was introduced to
several unmarried young ladies with whom I politely danced, but I didn't particularly
fancy any of them. I kept stealing glances over at Livie and every time I did it seemed
she was stealing a glance at me. As the evening progressed some of the children at
Livie's table had grown restless and bounded out-of-doors. She looked forlorn and I'd
had a little to drink so I sat down near her and we made small-chat. I could tell by the
way she smiled and laughed and touched her hair that she was attracted to me despite the
difference in our ages, and I asked her to dance. She declined politely, saying that it
would probably be inappropriate since she was there in the line of her employment
duties, to which I remarked that was a pity because she was by far the most beautiful
woman in the room. Rather than blush as I would have expected from a girl of nineteen,
she gave me a smoldering look and said a breathy 'thank you'.
It was around that time they turned down the lights and began the endless speeches and
toasts, followed by romantic slow dancing, cutting of the cake, and so-on. Suddenly I felt
something rustle my trouser leg, and for a split-second I thought it was one of the
children making mischief underneath the table but quickly realized Livie was gently
working my stocking down to my shoe-top with her toes, and then her soft, warm bare
feet caressed my leg up and down slowly and sensuously. I became aroused instantly and
looked in-to her eyes. "I really would like to dance with you," she said, "I reckon this
will have to do," and with a momentary pause and a hint of a wry smile added, "for
now." Livie proceeded to continue caressing my leg with her feet, then after while
crossed one leg and, hidden by the long table linen, placed her bare foot in my lap and
began kneading me through my trousers with her toes. I was completely at her mercy at
that point, and prayed she would indeed be merciful lest I suffer a rather embarrassing
event. She slowly grazed her long, sharpened fingernails across the back of my hand and
whispered with an evil smirk, "Would you like me to finish you here, or go off and, um,
take charge of yourself?" As much as I would've preferred the first option, my
sensibilities told me that wouldn't be a good idea and I raced to the loo and relieved my
frustration to the thought of her. "Better now?" she asked with a giggle when I returned.
And she immediately grazed her sharp nails slowly across the back of my hand and as she
Page 1 of 4
sensed me getting aroused instantly, she giggled again.
Livie had had quite a few sips from my glass but my mates, her employers, were too
inebriated to notice, and she was all-right to drive the lot of us home. My mate and his
wife went straight to bed and no doubt passed-out as soon as their heads touched their
pillows. Livie got the boys off to bed and passed by the study on her way to her own
room. She smiled and came in-to the room holding her shoes in one hand. Slightly
drunk, Livie clasped her other hand over her mouth and began to giggle at the sight of me
in my shorts, contorting myself in-to the foetal position in order to fit myself onto the
davenport. Suddenly she stopped laughing and she knelt down and set her shoes on the
floor, and she reached one hand behind her head and swept back her long red hair, leant
over me and kissed me, softly at first but quickly her kiss grew stronger and more
passionate. I felt her hand slip under my elastic and her long sharp fingernails poked and
pricked me as she worked me free of my shorts. All the while kissing me deeply her
fingers deftly retracted my foreskin and I felt her long thumbnail gently scraping my tip,
which was now hyper-sensitive. Suddenly she stopped kissing me and I could feel all ten
of her sharp nails gently fondling my balls as her succulent, full pink lips enveloped my
manhood and slowly brought me to a mind-blowing finish.
Still kneeling beside the davenport, Livie laid her head on my stomach and smiled up at
me. I was quite spent but as my eyes began to close, suddenly she sank all of her long
sharpened nails in-to my thighs. I yelped and sat up and grabbed her wrists but the more
I tried to pull her hands away, the deeper she buried her nails in-to me until I couldn't see
the long, clear tips. Just as suddenly, she released my flesh from her claws and stood up,
dragging her fingernails up my chest with surprising force. As she picked up her shoes
with one hand, she tugged my hand with her other. "Come to my room," she said softly,
"we can fuck all night and they can't hear us." I felt my thighs throbbing in pain and
surveyed the half-moon cuts she'd made and said "I'm bleeding!". Livie smiled. "My
nails have always been hellishly sharp. From about thirteen until I took this position as
an au pair, they were often much longer too," she said, spreading her fingers and
admiring the long tips with their near-points. Standing, she came up about to my mid-
chest, and she reached up and grasped my shoulders. It didn't take any pressure from
those razor-sharp talons to bend me down to her parted lips. She ground herself into my
renewed arousal and wrapped one leg round mine and caressed the back of my calf with
her soft, bare foot. As her kiss intensified she climbed on me with both legs, digging her
fingernails in-to my shoulders as she pulled herself up. I held her tightly round her firm
little bum, hoping she would lighten the grip her nails had on me, but instead she shifted
one hand and sank those nails in-to my neck whilst she slowly clawed my back with her
other hand. "I'm a scratcher," she exclaimed, and softly hissed "I claw like a tigress
during sex." Licking my ear she purred, "but if you're the kind of bloke who can take it,
you'll say I'm the best fuck you've ever had."
We went to Livie's room and she locked the door and as I lay down on my back on her
bed she lit a thick, jasmine-scented candle and turned out the electric light. She undid her
hair ribbon, allowing her long, silken red hair to fall freely about her face, then she shook
it back. Slowly she un-wrapped her tight skirt and un-buttoned and removed her blouse
and brassiere, and she was standing only in red lace panties, through which she slowly
and sensuously withdrew one perfectly-shaped, porcelain-white leg at a time. She knelt
over me and removed my shorts and she sat down facing me with her legs between mine,
knees slightly bent. She began tracing her pointer-finger nails along my shins, then
added her thumbnails along the insides of my calves, and finally she was gently raking
my legs with all of her long fingernails. Livie grasped my manhood between the soft,
warm soles of her feet and began to knead me rhythmically. Then she moved one foot
down and massaged my balls with her toes, firmly but not enough to hurt, whilst she
stroked me between the first and second toes of her other foot. She began raking the
entire length of my legs with her long fingernails. Aside from the heavenly sensation,
from where I lay propped against her pillows, I had a perfect view of her indescribably
soft fleshy toes working me expertly, and her long, clear-tipped fingernails slowly
making tracks along my legs as the sound of nails on skin filled my ears. Livie clearly
knew she could do that as long as she wanted, building my nerve responses and my desire
in an un-ending crescendo, without letting me orgasm, and she was in no hurry. She
must have worked me like that for at least an hour, an expression of intense interest on
her angelic face as she took me close to the edge and held me there. I noticed that there
were indentations in the flesh in front of her toenails as if they'd very recently been cut.
Indeed, when I complimented her on how talented she was with her toes and feet, she
said that I was 'lucky' she'd needed to wear open shoes to the wedding and had 'finally'
trimmed her toenails, a task at which she said she was usually lax. Silently I lamented
the fact I was only hours too late to have seen them long, but I didn't want to reveal my
attraction for long toenails lest she think I was 'some kind of freak'.
Finally she stopped what she'd been doing, and I hoped that she was ready to fuck me.
Livie crawled along-side me, kissing my stomach and chest as she approached, nibbling
my nipples and dragging her long fingernails around my chest and down my ribs and
arms. Even with barely any pressure it was evident how very sharp they were. She
raised herself and swung her leg over me, straddling me on her knees, and I anticipated
her lowering herself on to my desperately waiting manhood. Instead, Livie leant forward
and kissed me deeply, then she slipped her arms under me and clawed the length of my
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back and bit my shoulder, my painful moan muffled by her intense kiss. She was
kneeling on my chest at that point and once again began kneading and stroking my
manhood between her soft, warm feet and she resumed her passionate kiss. This time she
began stroking my cheeks and throat with her fingernails, at first very gently but as her
passion intensified so did the pressure and I began to get a bit distracted by the fear of her
suddenly slicing my face and I opened my eyes. Hers were already open and she was
enjoying my reaction. She placed her pointer-fingers over my eyes and lowered her long,
nearly-pointed talons until their sharp tips touched my eyelids and bade me close them,
and she held them there whilst gently dimpling the rest of her nails into my cheeks and
scraping her long thumbnails along my jaw-line. She continued her deep kissing whilst
kneading my arousal between her toes, for what seemed an interminable length of time.
Livie sat up on her knees, with her fingers and their long, sharp nails dimpling my chest,
and my balls between her toes, shook her luxuriant red hair off her face and asked with a
smile, "Are you enjoying me?" I desperately wanted to fuck her, but she clearly relished
orchestrating the sex play and I didn't want to upset her in any way so I responded, "God
yes," and then I deftly suggested "but don't you want me to….you know?" Her eyes
widened and she smiled and cried "Yes, would you?" And before I knew what was
happening she leapt forward and straddled my head between her thighs, supporting my
neck in her hands and digging those sharp thumbnails into my scalp as she ground herself
in-to my face.
Once again, Livie was in no hurry, and she helped herself to my tongue for what must
have been an hour, during which time I felt (and heard, through ears muffled by her
crushing thighs) her climax several times, each time punctuated by an uncontrollably-
strong reflexive sinking of her long, sharp fingernails in-to my neck and scalp. Finally
she loosened her grip on my head and I felt her slide down me, stopping as her full
breasts with huge, erect nipples hovered above my face, prompting me to take each one
in turn in my mouth whilst I fondled the other with my hand. After a few minutes Livie
emitted a squeal and sank her fingernails in-to my shoulders and raked them down my
arms. Before I could scream, her lips were on mine and her tongue was deep inside my
mouth, and she clawed her talons back up my ribcage and then sank them into my
pectorals as she sat up and finally, slowly impaled herself on me. Livie road me slowly
up and down and ground herself in-to me in circles. She leant forward until our mouths
met in a frenzied kiss, then she sat up raking her sharp nails down my chest, leant back
supporting herself by sinking her nails into my legs, and rode me some more. She would
climax just before I was about to climax, and she would claw me with her talons. That
brought me back from the edge, and she would then continue riding me. I'd never lasted
that long before Livie, and I don't believe since. It was at once ecstasy and torture.
Livie started teasing me verbally, telling me how much she knew I wanted to finish, but
each time she felt me getting close she would stop moving and bury her sharpened
fingernails in my skin. Finally she rolled on her back, wrapping her strong, shapely legs
round me. As I entered her she began to roll her hips slowly and sensuously, alternating
kissing me passionately and gently pulling my lips with her teeth and biting me softly on
my chin and neck, whilst her fingernails made soft tracings down my arms and back. I
opened my eyes and she smiled and started heaving her hips up to meet my thrusts and
gradually accelerated her pace. I felt things boiling-up inside, I was past the point where
anything could stop me. Livie could feel it as well, and as I exploded in the longest
release of my life and oblivious to all else, she bit my neck and buried her long,
sharpened fingernails in-to my bum and clawed them up my back, then buried them in
my shoulders and clawed them back down and then back up my ribs, and then she sank
them into my chest and clawed me down to my stomach. We both fell apart upon the
sweat-drenched sheets, panting and gasping for breath. Unable to speak or move, we
both fell sound asleep.
The next thing I remember was awakening to find Livie sprawled on top of me, still
asleep. It was light out and I shook her gently. She stirred and I asked her didn't she
have to get break-fast for the boys, to which she replied that Sunday was her off-day.
She slid off me and turned her back to me, and I said I'd be back shortly and went into
the loo which adjoined Livie's room. My body seemed to be on fire, and I gasped in
shock when saw that I was covered front and back with scores of claw marks, scratches
and furrows, some simply red and angry but many were deep and had bled and begun to
scab. There were suction- and bite-marks on my neck and shoulders, and I had a few
light scratches on either side of my face. When I returned to Livie's bed-side she sat up
and evidently saw the horrified look on my face, although it was obvious from the
nonchalant look on her face that she wasn't at all unused to seeing the devastation her
nails had wrought. Indeed, the first words she spoke were, "I told you I'm a scratcher,"
and before I could utter a word she followed with "So. Am I or am I not the best fuck
you've ever had?" I had to admit, she was. Livie stood up on her knees and put her
hands against my stomach and her pink tongue licked a circle round the rim of my navel.
She looked up at me sweetly and as she dragged her sharp thumbnails along my belly
away from my navel she asked me, "Want to go again?" I told her I did but I had a train
in an hour. Livie continued to stare sweetly in-to my eyes and fell on her back, grasping
my balls with the toes of one foot whilst gently stroking my manhood with the toes of her
other foot and in a moment she had me at full staff. She sat up and wrapped her legs
round my calves and began to slowly and gently scrape her sharp fingernails from my
base to my tip, over and over. Her long fingernails, which had been spotlessly clean the
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evening before, now had my skin and dried blood underneath them. "Can't you take a
later train?" she asked with mock innocence as she continued gently scraping my shaft
with the tips of her sharpened fingernails, faster and faster, "this will be a quick one, I
promise." "All-right," I moaned. "Super," Livie said softly, pulling me onto the bed and
guiding me in-to her. Although my entire body throbbed and burnt as Livie raked her
long, sharpened fingernails carelessly over the latticework of scratches still raw from the
previous night, her kisses and the gentle caressing of her warm, soft feet against my legs
was like an anaesthetic, and the sweet taste of her full, tender lips and the feel of her
silken, shimmering red hair against my skin intoxicated me. As before, she expertly kept
me on the cusp of climaxing until she'd climaxed several times, so that when she finally
gave me release it was once again so overpowering that I was unable to offer the slightest
resistance to the repeated, forceful raking of her long, sharpened fingernails down my
already well-scratched torso as she surrendered what little inhibition she may have had to
one final, thunderous orgasm.
It hadn't occurred to me that my mate and his wife were probably awake and in the
kitchen, which was next to Livie's room. We must have been making a frightful lot of
noise, because suddenly my mate and his wife were yelling "Livie, Livie, are you all-
right?" and then there was the sound of a key in the door and the knob turned and in they
burst with the two young boys peeking round their parents' legs. Instantly my mate's
wife gasped and screamed, "Dear God!" and covered the boys' eyes with her hands. My
mate went ashen and as his wife turned and bolted with her sons, he stared at the two of
us with his mouth agape. I don't know what dumbfounded him the most, the sight of
Livie's lovely, nubile body or the sight of me literally covered with red claw marks as
though I'd crawled through barbed wire. He silently retreated and closed the door. Livie
leant over and licked my ear. "Want to go again?" "Are you mad?" I gasped. "Quite,"
she smiled. "All-right, why not?" I sighed. But as we began to kiss we heard my mate
and his wife in a terrible row, she was screaming, "I'm taking the boys out for a bit and
when I get back I don't want to see your sick bastard of a mate. And I want that vile little
whore out of our house immediately!" "She's afraid I'll fuck her husband," Livie
snickered, "She's seen him look at me with lust written all over his face." "I don't think
he's likely to entertain that thought anymore now that he's seen what you do to blokes
you fuck," I said, grasping her hands and surveying my shredded torso. "Well, no matter,
it doesn't look like he'll get the chance," she said, and sighed, "you don't happen to know
anybody in desperate need of an au-pair for the next several months, do you?" "As a
matter of fact, yes," I replied, and her eyes brightened. "How many children do they
have?" she asked. "None," I replied, "but I am nonetheless in the most desperate need of
an au-pair." "Any special qualifications?" she asked with mock seriousness. "She must
have red hair and incredibly beautiful and sexy," I answered, continuing the charade.
"How about a scratcher, with hellishly sharp fingernails?" she queried. "Super!" I
responded, "And she has to be the best fuck I've ever had." "Oh, she is." Livie cooed.
In the taxi Livie put her arms round me and rested her head on my shoulder, and her bare
feet in my lap where she mischievously kneaded me to arousal. She kissed me and
grazed my arm with her sharpened fingernails and by the time we arrived at the train
station I was once again mad with desire for her. At her pleading I splurged and got us a
private sleeping compartment. It was by far the best train ride I ever had, although
neither of us slept. As was the case for the next several months, which were a constant
stream of the most intense, incredible sex, and during which time Livie's fingernails grew
longer, and as an added bonus she didn't trim her toenails. I have to this day at least a
few permanent scars to remind me of Livie.
-
The Beach
The moment he set eyes on her, he felt his heart skip several beats and he knew he would faint right there, dead
on the spot. Her flowy blonde hair and bright blue eyes were
awe inspiring and her ultimate curvaceous body drove him wild.
Her bra size, he estimated to be a 36 or 38. He wasnt
knowledgeable enough about bra sizes to know for sure, but he
did know they were completely enticing. Did she look familiar?
He wasnt quite sure. What he did know for sure is that she
was completely stunning. But the thing that really clinched it
was the appearance of her hands. Her slim fingers which possessed
the most beautiful, long nails that he had ever seen.
Too perfect. Just way too amazing to be true. But there she was.
Right there on the beach, alone, sitting on a beach chair, reading a book. All alone. Hmmm. Ben knew hed love to go over
and introduce himself. At the same time, he knew he was way to
shy to actually do it. He just sat there and admired how the
sunlight shined through her unpolished, three inch fingernails.
The sight was beyond anything hed ever even imagined in his
wildest dreams, and hed had plenty of those. He also realized
that hed better cover up below because he was getting quite an erection that he believed he might pop right through the swim
trunks. He grabbed his towel and continued marveling at this
magnificent woman and her nails. Every time she turned a page, he caught a fantastic view of the undersides of her nails, almost as if she was posing them for him.
She then put the book down and got up. He hoped that she was not about to leave now. Such an opportunity for a sighting like this were so rare. But, he knew that it had to end sometime. How long had he been sitting there, ogling this beautiful blonde with the amazing nails. An hour? Maybe two? Oh well, this would make for some awesome dreams. But wait. She was walking in his direction. A chance at a more close up view as she walks past. He fixed his gaze on her nails as she approached. She did not, however walk by him. She walked toward him and stopped. Incredibly, she smiled at him and winked, knowingly. He realized that somehow, she had noticed his stares. She held out her hand and told him to take a closer look. "Ive noticed you staring at me and I think I know why. You were looking at my nails, werent you?" Ben blushed. "Im sorry. I didnt mean to stare. I didnt mean to make you uncomfortable." But she just smiled. "Hey, what do you think of them? Do you like them?" She then noticed the towel over his trunks, with a huge wet bump there, and said, "well, it seems like you do", and she giggled. "Oh man, if only you knew how much I do". "Well have to do something about that incredible hard on youve got there. And she instructed him to follow her to a remote area on the beach, behind a small wooden shed, hidden from public view.
Ben figured he must have had a heart attack, died, and gone directly to heaven and this was his guardian angel. Her blue eyes seemed to see through his eyes directly into his mind. Who was she? She sure did look familiar, but he couldnt imagine how.
She looked at his huge dick. "So, long nails really turn you on, eh?" "So much. But you are so outrageously beautiful. I must tell you that you have the most fantastic body Ive ever seen." "Im glad. Ive certainly paid enough for it. All except my nails. They are real. No fakes for me. All mine. Take a close look. See underneath? Not acrylic, certainly not tips. Just my own, natural fingernails on the ends of my fingers. And so hard. See?" This was just so surreal. "But Im so glad you like my body. You like my tits? Im a 38 double D. I may have them enlarged again. I like big things." And she looked down at his dick and smiled at him. She reached out her fingers to it ever so slowly. He watched as the tips of those nails approached his eagerly awaiting dick.
She seemed to delight in teasing him this way. But, when they did make contact with his skin, he felt such a tingle throughout his body. He closed his eyes for a second and then watched as she performed her talon magic on him.
He loved the way the nails curved ever so slightly. And the oval shape were so perfect. Her touch was so soft as her nails gently scraped the skin as they traversed up and down the shaft.
She did this very slowly as he felt the nail tips digging in just a little. He really wanted to cum right then, but she so pleasingly dragged this process out until he could barely stand it. She took his cock within her fingers and began stroking faster and faster until he let his load go, shooting out into the grassy area behind the shed, and he somehow managed to keep himself from letting out a yell of ultimate satisfaction. A feeling he simply couldnt understand. "Feel better?", she asked him with a knowing smile. "I dont even know your name," he told her. "Just call me Jane, for now. I have to run." She started to go, but he stopped her. "Could I see you again, sometime?"
"Sure. Heres my address. How about 8, tomorrow night?" "Sounds great to me. See you then." He was in heaven. But she sure looked familiar to him. Oh well. Tomorrow. He couldnt wait. Today was heaven. He could barely sleep that night in anticipation of what he believed would be the most exciting night of his life. He did not realize what awaited him that evening.
When Ben arrived at "Janes" apartment, his heart was pounding furiously and his knees quivered to the point where he knew he would collapse right there, outside her door. He wondered what color her nails would be. Perhaps something totally way out.
He knocked on the door and breathlessly awaited the opening of the door. And when it opened, he saw his beautiful date, dressed in a lavender nightgown, her deep cleavage separating her full, jiggling breasts drawing his stare, which slowly migrated down to the sight he most hungered for. But her hands were covered by an oversized pair of mittens. She smiled at him and said "I have a surprise for you. Now, take off your clothes and Sit down in that chair.". She motioned toward a wooden kitchen chair and he dutifully followed her instructions. "We are going to play a little game. I think you will find it most interesting." She then grabbed a rope and tied him to the chair, smiling the whole time.
This was excruciatingly exciting and Ben could only imagine what could happen next. Once tied, Ben watched as she slowly removed her mittens to uncover her blood red 3 inch fingernails, filed to ten razor sharp points. What awesome lethal weapons those would make, Ben wondered. If only he knew how prophetic those thought would be.
"Now, lets play a little game, ok?" Ben smiled, uncertainly, as she began. "Do you remember a girl from your junior year at high school? Her name was Sharon. Sharon Gold.
Do you remember?" Ben thought back to a homely, buck toothed girl who everyone teased. Ben knew that Sharon had a crush on him, but he just wasnt interested. Beyond that, he would play practical jokes on her. He was cruel, really. Everyone was. Except she really like him. "Yes, I remember her. Whatever happened to Sharon?". Ben was beginning to realize what was happening. "You are looking at her. Arent you glad to see me now?!?!" Her smile took on a much more different look. An evil look. A look of satisfaction. A look of revenge. And here he was, bound to a chair, and Sharon, the girl he was so awfully cruel to in high school, standing before him, with ten of the most frightening daggers hed ever imagined, so perilously close to his nude and defenseless body. The irony was staggering.
"I wanted you so much. I wanted you to like me. To ask me out. All you did was turn me away. You were so nasty to me. Id hoped that you would be different from the others, but you were no better. I knew someday, Id have my day. You will pay, you bastard. You love nails, right? Ill give you nails. Oh, will I give you nails." Ben was stupified. How had she found him. How did she know of his attraction to long nails. Before he could ask, she began to answer his questions. "Ive watched you, Ben. Ive followed your every step. For 5 years, Ive studied you. Your every move. Ive seen how you stare. Id always wondered what it was that attracted you so. I took notes. Every woman you stared at, I noted attributes. It wasnt hair color, height, weight, eye color, tits, or anything else. Only the fact that these women had very long nails. Light bulb. That was my bait. Ive grown these nails since my discovery. I waited till the right moment and voila. Here we are. So now you know. This is oh so very sweet." Ben croaked weakly "you are insane". Sharon simply grinned and nodded. "You are so right, Ben. I am insane. Tonight, you will see what insanity is." And then she jammed her daggers into Bens thighs so suddenly that it took a few seconds until he felt the fullness of the pain as it sent a shock throughout his body. Ben knew at this moment that he would not live to see another day. She was going to kill him. He felt his warm blood flowing down his legs as the pain continued to throb. Her dagger nails remained embedded in his skin for what seemed an eternity. She then pulled them out as quickly as she had struck and he let out a scream of pain. He also realized, with amazement, that he was so incredibly excited and aroused. It was obvious, as well, that Sharon had noticed this and was now focused on his fully erect cock. And as her daggers approached it, Ben wondered what she would do to it. He watched as her dagger tips dragged the skin from base to head creating fine, red lines of beading blood trails. Each time she did this, the force of the digging increased. The fine lines became wider and deeper gouges with freely flowing blood trails now. And then his worst fear. She took her index fingernail and places the point on his penis opening. And as she dug it deeper into the hole, widening it grotesquely, he felt himself fading out until he passed out completely. She began slapping him furiously, trying to revive him. She wanted him awake and alert. She looked at his limp body and decided to let him rest. There was plenty of time for this game to be played out.
When he came to, he looked up and saw her standing over him.
"Now, do you love my nails? Arent they wonderful? What youve always dreamed of? They are yours. Look at them. Perhaps you cant see them clearly enough. Take a closer look. She moved her sharp, pointy claws closer and closer to his eyes. How beautiful and yet so menacing they looked as he watched them approach. How beautifully her fingertips shined as the light reflected off of them. Yes, how beautiful. He realized that this was going to be the last sight he would ever see as she poked her two index fingernails into his eyeballs. Light turned to red and slowly faded to black. He was blind. And as he felt her daggers jamming into his ears and piercing his eardrums, his hearing was gone. And all he could sense was her fingernails jamming into his body in no particular pattern. Just randomly. Oh, the pain. The last thing he knew was the feeling of her nails entering his nostrils and penetrating his nasal cavity. And then it was over.
Sharon Gold looked down at the body that was once Ben Graver. How she loved him. And for a moment, she felt an overwhelming feeling of sadness. Why had she done it? But she knew all to well the reason. It had to be done. And she opened her bottle of red nail polish and painted over Bens name.
And then she smiled as she noted the next name on her list.
Hmmmm.
-
THE BEST YEARS Part 1
THE BEST YEARS: Part 1
INTRODUCTION.
The years I spent at university were unquestionably the best in terms of the
frequency with which I encountered attractive young women with the long, natural
nails I prefer. It may have been a combination of the times, that long nails
were in vogue, and the fact that late teens/early twenties is the age of
discovery and experimentation, and long nails was something many girls trifled
with even if only for a brief but glorious time. In fact I kept at university
through my doctoral studies and then accepted a teaching fellowship for several
years despite the miserably inadequate stipend, simply to remain in close
proximity to a steady supply of long-nailed young women. I remained in
academia until the fashion changed and long nails fell out of favour.
I.
My first weeks at university were a revelation, as girls away from their parents
for the first time became intoxicated by their new-found freedom. Those who
hadn't already done so endeavoured to rid themselves of their virginity, and
indeed there was urgent pressure from their peers to do so as quickly as
possible. There was also quite a bit of competition in terms of how many blokes
each had slept with, and those girls who felt their scores were unacceptably
lowsought to rectify it. It was a time of great joy for opportunistic young
blokes, especially for those whose standards and preferences were,
shall we say, liberal. For me however, whose prerequisite was long nails, in
the beginning I was rather disheartened. However I soon discovered that girls
often chose to signify their arrival in-to womanhood by styling themselves as
women rather than girls, and that included their nails. Within the first few
months, long fingernails seemed to literally sprout everywhere I looked. Girls
with whom I'd thus far simply made casual conversation became alluring as the
length of their nails increased millimeter by millimeter with each passing week.
Some girls simply didn't have the nails that lent themselves to length, and
aborted their growth. Some maintained their nails at a conservative length for
reasons of practicality. But some became rather invested in having long nails,
and thankfully there were plenty of those.
At the outset there was a very petite girl in several of my courses who caught
my eye. She had very long, frizzly unkempt blonde hair and she dressed like a
ragamuffin. She wore no make-up but she hardly needed it. She had an angelic
face with flawless skin and a small mouth with full pink lips that she would
lick sensuously with the tip of her tongue when she was deep in concentration.
Her eye-brows were naturally sculpted and accentuated her striking violet eyes.
And her fingernails, with long beds, were straight and clear, and all between
two-and-a-half and three centimeters long. I had no intention of simply
fantasising about her whilst in the mean-time some other bloke caught her
fancy, so I wasted no time before introducing myself. Her name was Gwendolyn,
but she said when she was little she couldn't pronounce it, and so ever since
she'd been Wendy. "My boy-friend…" she began, as my heart sank, "calls me
Wendy the Witch…" she continued. "Because you're bewitching, no doubt," I
offered. "Because of my terribly long fingernails," she said, holding her
hands up and slowly wiggling her fingers. "They're anything but terrible," I
said. "Thank you," Wendy said, surprised, "In the beginning I said I'd let
them grow until they break, but they're quite resilient and strong
and they got incredibly long. Now I've become strangely attached to them. He's
been at me constantly for the last month to cut them, but for some reason the
more he insists, the longer I let them grow. Makes no sense at all does it?"
"Of course it does. You don't want any-one to control you, to make you change
for their sake," I observed. "I only wish that my boy-friend felt that way,"
she lamented. "That will be the case the moment I am your boy-friend," I
replied smiling. She prepared to laugh, but seeing that I was
quite serious, stopped herself. "Promise me something, Wendy" I said. "What?"
she asked. "Promise me when you've got the scissors in your hand, before you
submit to cutting off your nails, that you'll remember me and that I fancy you
exactly as you are." She didn't respond, but her look gave me hope that my
words had un-settled her.
I saw Wendy frequently because we were in more than one course together, and I
was elated that although over the next few weeks she didn't say more to me than
hallo and good-bye, nonetheless she hadn't cut her nails the slightest bit.
Finally one day as we shuffled out of the class-room we bumped each other
squeezing through the door-way, and she accidentally scratched my arm. After
apologizing she joked, "One scratch from Wendy the Witch and you'll be forever
under my spell you know." I replied, "I've been under your spell from the first
time I saw you, but please do scratch me whenever the mood strikes." "You're
not the least bit subtle, are you," she remarked. "I'm sorry," I said, and
fibbed, "I forgot about your boy-friend." "I've forgotten about him as well,"
she said. My heart shot up in-to my mouth but somehow I held my composure and
deftly asked her to have a bite and study with me that evening and she accepted.
Wendy met me at the pub where students congregated and we talked and ate, and
after we'd each had a pint she ordered another, and another, and I rather lost
count. I was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol but Wendy acted as if
she'd been drinking water. We went back to her room, where I took my books
from my bag and we sat on her bed and I prepared to study. Wendy took a small
wooden box from under her clothes in a drawer, and inside the box were matches
and several joints. Wendy lit one, and took a noisy drag. Holding her breath
she nodded and held it out to me between her extra-ordinarily long thumb- and
fingernail. I waved it away, as I needed to study and my head was already
spinning from the pub. Wendy smiled and pushed me gently down on my
back, took a long drag, leant down and engulfed my lips with hers and as our
tongues cavorted she exhaled in-to my mouth.
Promptly she opened my shirt, then sat up and pulled her sweater over her head.
She wasn't wearing a brassiere and she had small breasts with rather large
nipples that stood quite proud. She lay on top of me with her head on my
shoulder and lazily caressed my chest with her hand, brushing my nipple lightly
with her thumbnail. Seeing her long, straight, clear nails made me instantly
aroused and she felt it and smiled. She rolled on her side and un-fastened my
trousers. Her smoldering stare captured my eyes as she hooked her long
thumbnail under the elastic on my shorts and slowly teased them down until I
sprang free, and then she wrapped her fingers round me. Her fingers were warm
and as soft as silk, and just barely touched me as they slid lightly up and
down. I was entranced watching her lovely hands with those incredibly long,
clear nails, whilst she watched me intently with her remarkable violet eyes.
She brought me right to the brink several times, each time withdrawing her touch
at the last moment, then pausing for several seconds before resuming, never
taking her eyes off of mine. Finally when she'd nearly driven me mad, she
gradually moved her hand side-ways so that she was then stroking me very gently
between only her incredibly long thumbnail and two first fingernails. Seeing
and feeling that, I exploded in the most intense ecstasy I'd ever felt.
I hadn't intended to push things ahead too quickly with Wendy, given she'd only
recently separated from her boy-friend, and I sat up and began putting myself
together. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Nothing, absolutely nothing," I assured
her, "I don't want to rush you is all." "Stay," was her one-word reply, and she
lay back with her legs in the air and wriggled out of her tight jeans. She
wasn't wearing panties, and was now naked except for long striped woolen
stockings. "Aren't you feeling a bit over-dressed?" she asked, and I quickly
removed my clothes. She crawled next to me and we kissed and she began
running her fingers across my chest and over my shoulders and gently down my
arms and then up my sides, never once touching me with her long fingernails, but
the simple sight of them, how long and straight and clear they were, aroused me
quickly. Wendy kissed me again and as she repeated her caress she began to use
her nails, at first very, very lightly but gradually she increased her touch
until I could hear them gliding along my skin, and feel a sting as they began to
leave pink tracks in their wake. I turned toward her on my side and she began
to scrape her long fingernails up my back, and she rested her leg over my hip
and rubbed my leg with her wool-clad foot. I reached down and slipped my
fingers under the top of her stocking and started to push it down, but she
stopped me gently with her hand. "What's the matter?" I asked. "Well," she
said hesitantly, "this is going to disgust you but it seems I haven't cut my
toenails in…well…a while. Like perhaps several months." My heart was pounding
but before I could think of what to say she slid out of bed and said, "I'll just
go cut them and be back straight-away." Of course I most emphatically did not
want that, but I didn't want her to know I was excited by long toenails and have
her think I was a freak. I had to do something however, so I said, "Nothing
about you could disgust me. You're the one girl on earth who could look sexy
with long toenails. Like a wild cat." Surprisingly, that worked, and she
stripped off her stockings. Her toes were as incredible as her fingers, with
long, narrow nail-beds and nearly a centimeter of straight, clear long nails,
except on her end-toes, which were perhaps half a centimeter and slightly
curved. Wendy also did not shave her legs or under her arms, but the hair was
very soft and very blonde, and she used nothing to mask her natural body scents
either, though they were not in any way unpleasant and in fact quite seductive.
Together with her unruly long hair and untrimmed extremely long finger- and
toenails she had an air of feral wildness about her, which turned me on
like no-one before.
The image I planted in her of a wild cat turned Wendy on as well, and she
attacked me with uninhibited passion, biting and scratching me and making animal
sounds. She tugged my lips in her teeth between deep, urgent kisses, and her
amazing long fingernails raked my chest and stomach as she rode atop me, then
when we rolled over she sank her teeth and nails in-to my shoulders and raked
my back. She spread her legs apart and placed her feet against my sides and dug
her long toenails under my arms, and she raked them down my sides and hips, and
up and down my thighs. Wendy had climax after climax, each one stronger than
the last, until finally she said, breathlessly, "Time for the kill, lover," and
she brought her feet up and dug her toenails in-to my neck whilst she raked my
arms with her fingernails, and she met my every thrust until I couldn't resist
any longer and gave in to my pleasure. No sooner had I collapsed beside her,
she put her foot between my legs and began playing with me with her toenails.
"No way, not yet," I panted, winded and drenched in our combined sweat.
"Again…now," she hissed, her violet eyes burning a stare in-to mine, and she
raked her toenails down my thigh and her hand went between my legs and her nails
expertly teased me to arousal, at which I was amazed. "You're simply the
sexiest woman alive," I exclaimed. "Or perhaps I truly am a witch," she smiled.
But Wendy had already impailed herself on me and was done with conversation and
I couldn't speak, as she had shoved her fingers with three-centimeter nails in-
to my mouth and was gently scratching my tongue.
Wendy's sexual appetite was insatiable, which for a long time made it easy for
me to excuse that she was never completely without the influence of alcohol or
cannabis or both. She would smoke a joint first-thing in the morning and
usually had a few swigs from a bottle of wine with break-fast. In the classes
we shared she would sit next to me, stoned and perhaps slightly intoxicated, and
whisper sexual innuendos and write filthy suggestions on my note-pad. At night
I would try to study but Wendy made it almost impossible for me to concentrate.
She wore at most a thin, short silk robe, and sometimes simply paraded round in
the nude. The sight of her tight little body and her long fingernails and
toenails drove me mad and she knew it. If I was trying to read she would
come from behind and wrap her legs round me and put her feet on my book so I
would see her long toenails, and instantly we would have sex. One time I had an
exam the following day and insisted she allow me to study. The next thing I
knew, she sat across from me and began fingering herself and moaning softly. I
looked up and saw her hand with three-centimeter long fingernails between her
legs and I became aroused, then she said out-loud, "My nails are too long, I
guess I'll have to cut them," knowing that would get my attention. I motioned
for her to come sit with me on the davenport and she did, but she stroked her
fingernails on my arm and kissed my neck and I was unable to concentrate. "Just
once, and I promise I'll go to sleep and you can study all night," she
pleaded, her hand already in-side my shorts and her long fingernails grasping me
and stroking me to arousal. Of course for Wendy there was no such thing as
'just once' and with little studying and no sleep, I got barely a passing mark
on that exam the next day.
Wendy and I were together well more than a year, during which time we went at it
madly like rabbits. Wendy got asked to leave university due to her poor
scholastic performance, and I nearly was placed on suspension for the same
reason. At their longest, Wendy's fingernails approached four centimeters, and
even when she finally had to cut them back because she found it impossible to do
even simple tasks to her liking, they remained an average of about three
centimeters for as long as we were together, and she became more
and more adept at arousing me and driving me mad. At the same time, Wendy's
fascination with contraband substances increased, and she started doing LSD. I
opted not to, understanding myself well enough to know that my demons needed
their keeper to remain alert and vigilant. However, one time Wendy slipped me
some LSD without my knowing, and I had a monstrously horrible experience and
found it hard to trust her after that. When Wendy began injecting hard drugs I
also had the strong suspicion she was having sex with other blokes and broke it
off with her.
She did make an attempt to sort herself out and begged me to give her another
chance. Wendy was extremely passionate and she had the most alluring long
fingernails and toenails of anyone I knew at the time and she knew exactly how
to use her nails to drive me to unparalleled ecstasy. Moreover, I didn't have
to hide my obsession from her, she accepted me for it, she was deeply in-love
with me, and indulging my every nail fantasy turned her on as much as it did me.
We had another few months of incredibly passionate sex, but suddenly Wendy was
in the hospital with an over-dose and afterward her parents brought her to a
sanitorium and told me that the doctors had advised a complete and
permanent break with anything and anyone pertaining to her former life as an
addict. I don't know what ever became of Wendy, but I hope she never let anyone
force her to cut her incredible nails.
-
THE BEST YEARS Part 2
THE BEST YEARS Part 2
Some people have a natural facility for learning mathematics, and others do not,
and find it a most torturous task. I am in the latter group, and found rather
quickly that mathematics professors have little ability or patience to explain
the subject in such a way that someone like myself can comprehend. So I found a
notice that had been pinned to a cork-board out-side the classroom by a fellow
student who set themself forth as a paid tutor. I rang the number, and a rather
sweet female voice responded. "I wish to speak with the person who placed the
notice as a mathematics tutor please," I demanded politely. "That is I," she
responded, and I asked her where she preferred to conduct her tutoring. "Please
don't take offence," she pleaded, "If you were a girl we could meet at your room
or mine, but since you're not, I would prefer someplace in public." I assured
her that I quite understood and took no offence, but because we'd need to talk
out-loud the library wasn't a suitable venue and a pub was certainly too
distracting and noisy, and the class buildings were locked-up in the after-
hours. For lack of a better choice, we decided to meet in a small park where
there were tables that elderly gents often used to play chess.
It was rather uncomfortably chilly and rather typically wet the next day when we
met in the late after-noon. My new tutor's name was Anne, and she was nearly as
tall as I, rather slim, and pretty in a wholesome, unpretentious way. She had
wavy shoulder-length black hair that poked out from beneath a white cashmere cap
pulled over her ears, and she had on a light blue skiing coat, with a white
cashmere scarf and gloves that matched her cap. Her eyes were very dark brown
and her skin was porcelain-white except for the slightest blush in her cheeks
caused by having walked some distance in the cold. Anne's voice was very soft
and I could barely hear her, so I asked if she could speak louder. She
increased her volume a bit but I still had to ask her with my profuse apologies
several times to repeat what she'd said. She was very adept at explaining the
mathematical concepts in terms to which a non-mathematician like myself could
relate, and she wasn't the least bit impatient or condescending. After a half-
hour I told Anne that I'd love to continue but I was mere seconds from being
frozen to the core. She told me that I seemed like a complete gentleman and
that it would be all-right with her if we met in her room henceforth. She
apologised for the terrible state of her script as she struggled to write her
address with half-frozen gloved hands.
The next evening I arrived at her room about fifteen minutes early and no-one
answered my knock. I was sitting on the floor in the hall-way when Anne came up
the stairs and she apologised for being late and making me sit on the cold, hard
floor. I assured her I was early, and that I hoped I hadn't startled her. She
un-locked the door and turned up the lights and took my coat and hung it on a
hook and bade me sit on the davenport and put my book and pad on the low table
in front. "It's so dreadfully cold," she began, "Would you care for a spot of
tea?" "I don't want to put you to any trouble on my account," I responded, but
she said, "Nonsense, it's no trouble at all, I'd like some too." "Well in that
case, yes please," I agreed, "I'd love some hot tea." Anne disappeared into her
little kitchen, unwrapping her scarf and pulling off her cap and shaking her
dark hair loose. In the mean-while I looked through my mathematics book and the
questions I'd written for Anne to explain. I was busy with my nose in my notes
when a silver tray slid on-to the table with a flowered teapot, a large, heavy
stone-ware cup of steaming tea, a little pitcher of milk, and a plate of scones.
I took up my cup of tea and a scone and looked up just as Anne sat down on the
davenport beside me. She was clasping her large cup of tea with both hands, and
I nearly dropped my tea and choked on my scone. Anne's long, slender fingers
were tipped with one and a half centimeter nails, clean and white as new snow,
and filed to gently-tapered rounded points. "Are you all-right?" she asked. I
fibbed that I'd inhaled a bit of scone and tried to wash it down with the tea
which was very hot. "I could tutor you how to eat and drink," she offered with
a wry smile. "A mathematician with a sense of humour! Most surprising." I
observed, facetiously. "More surprising even than a mathematician with
breasts?" she asked, continuing the facetiousness. "Touche," I said, "You win."
"I always do," she said softly, "Four brothers and I'm their only sister, I've
had lots of practise besting males." "With your rapier-sharp wit," I joked.
"If possible," she answered sweetly, and clicking her nails on her tea-cup
laughed "But if not, then with my rapier-sharp fingernails." One could tell just
by looking that her long nails must be exquisitely sharp.
I was in rather a predicament from which there did not seem to be much chance of
a positive outcome. I needed Anne as a tutor and feared doing or saying
anything that would seem forward and cause her to terminate our professional
arrangement. Conversely I didn't know how long I might require her tutorial
services or how long I could endure being in close proximity to her and her
nails without her becoming aware that I had designs on her, as she was clearly
very smart. I decided to do my best to remain business-like and simply enjoy
the sight of her nails for as long as need be. We met every other evening for
one or two hours, depending on how much difficulty I was having with the current
lesson. She had a habit of gesturing with her hands whilst she explained, and
of course the sight of her lovely long nails dancing before my eyes was as
exciting as it was excruciating trying to remain non-chalant. She would point
to equations in my book or on my pad and place a long nail on the paper and
scrape it along as she explained. Occasionally she would grasp my hand to stop
me if I seemed not to understand, or squeeze my arm when something suddenly
became clear. Much of the time I sat rather nervously hunched over the low
table with my legs held tightly together, fearful that she would see that I was
very much aroused. And when I arose to leave I would have to position my book-
bag and coat rather judiciously. We made small-chat before and after the
tutoring sessions and I was able to discover that Anne did not have a boy-
friend. She said that was because blokes were either intimidated by her
scholastic brilliance or simply wanted to have casual sex which she disdained.
I told her that I was in awe of her brilliance and quite grateful for it, which
was true. And as to sex, I implored her not to think I was being forward but
that for me, sex with her could never be casual, which was much truer than I
suspected at the time. She didn't continue the topic, or even respond, but as
well she didn't put an end to our arrangement nor even distance herself further
from me on the davenport. I took that as a ray of hope.
It was very difficult for me to discern whether Anne had any personal feelings
for me, or if the warm smiles and soft pats on the arm were simply her reactions
to my increasing comprehension of mathematics. It was late spring and the
weather had become suddenly warmer the day I came to her room for a last
tutoring session prior to examinations. In place of jeans and sweater, Anne was
wearing a short dress with straps, and I marveled to myself at how incredibly
long and beautiful were her legs, and what a lovely neck she had, framed by her
thick, black hair. As we sat on the couch she stepped out of her house-slippers
and pulled one flawless, lovely foot up on-to the davenport, where she absently
massaged it whilst she posed questions and answered mine. At one point she put
her fingers forward between her long toes and scratched her sole with her long
fingernails, and the sound filled my head. I couldn't help cast a glance, and I
saw that she had the most perfect toenails, with long nail-beds and perhaps two
millimeters of snow-white tip on her great toe and a bit less on the rest. She
saw me looking and immediately said, "Sorry," and began to withdraw her foot.
"It was rude of me," she apologised, "I quite wasn't thinking what I was doing."
I placed my hand on hers, which was still holding her foot, and stopped her.
"It simply shows that you feel comfortable with me," I observed, "Or, at least I
hope so." She smiled but said nothing.
"This is our last session," Anne said softly. "Yes, it is," I replied, and I
joked, "unless I fail the examination." "You shant fail," she assured me,
"although if you did you would be welcome to see me again." "And if I don't
fail," I proposed, "Would I still be welcome to see you again?" Anne had been
infuriatingly adept at masking her thoughts from my eyes but this time she let
out an audible sigh and smiled brightly, "My God I was starting to think you
were never going to get round to asking." "You knew?" I asked, shocked.
"Despite your suave attempts at deception, it was rather obvious," she said,
resting her hand on my thigh and pointing her nail between my legs. "Girls have
it lucky," I opined. "Lucky? I was rather about to die thinking you might walk
out the door for-ever," she exclaimed, "I wasn't raised to ask a bloke out."
"Well, suppose we agree to celebrate after my examination to-morrow," I
proposed, "Perhaps a late dinner and...do you like to dance?" "It all sounds
lovely," Anne responded warmly, and she leant over and kissed my cheek, but just
then our eyes met and we kissed a long, slow, passionate kiss, during which she
reached up and combed her fingers through my hair and as I embraced her she
softly scratched the back of my neck. "Do my nails feel as good as you hoped?"
she whispered. Non-plussed I gasped, "Is there anything about me you haven't
discerned?" Anne simply smiled. "You'd best get a good night's rest if you hope
to do well on that examination and sustain my reputation as a capable tutor,"
she said, and added softly "So as much as I want you to stay--and I do--I'm
going to make you leave."
I felt quite pleased by my performance at the examination the next day. Anne
had done a remarkable job of turning my confusion into confidence. The
experience had also taught me something of the virtue of patience in
establishing a relationship, because my heart was as eager as my flesh to see
her again. I dressed and ran cross-town to her room, stopping en-route to
purchase a bouquet of flowers. I'd never done that for a girl before, mostly
because the girls I'd been involved with weren't the romantic sort, to say the
least. I knocked on Anne's door and she opened it a crack and poked her head
out, and her eyes opened wide when she saw the flowers. As I was about to
apologise for the old-fashioned cliched gesture, she buried her nose in the
bouquet and inhaled deeply and exclaimed how beautiful they were and that no-one
had ever brought her flowers before. "Wait here whilst I put them in a vase,"
she said, and closed the door. Momentarily she squeezed back through the door
and closed it quickly behind her. "I'm absolutely famished," she said, as we
walked down-stairs and on-to the street. Anne looked incredible. She wore a
simple black dress, and black heels which made her as tall as I. She had a
single strand of small pearls round her neck, along with the tiny gold crucifix
she always wore, and ear-rings each with a single tiny pearl that dangled from a
delicate gold chain. Her perfect, white skin contrasted with her black hair and
attire, and although she wore no make-up other than a bit of clear gloss on her
lips, she was positively radiant. Whether or not she was in reality, in my mind
Anne was the most beautiful woman on the planet.
We had a marvelous evening. Anne's manners were impeccable without being
affected, and she sipped a single glass of wine throughout the entire meal,
which was a stark contrast to my previous girl-friend who drank like a sailor on
shore-leave. Anne could converse intelligently on practically any subject, yet
without seeming to flaunt her intellect. Her mum had died when she was fourteen
and she had had to forego customary teen-aged life in order to help raise the
three of her four brothers who were younger than herself, whilst her father
languished in a state of depression following the death of his beloved and
offered Anne no emotional support. I told her that my father had left when I
was a toddler--something I never spoke of in those days because it was
considered scandalous and shameful--and that my mum was dutiful toward raising
me but emotionally cold and distant. "It amazes me that people like us have any
capacity to love," I observed. She smiled and disagreed, "People like us don't
take love for granted the way most do. We know what a precious luxury it is, to
receive, and to give." I hadn't admitted it to myself before that moment, that
I was in love with Anne. I think that I would have remained just as in love
with her even if she'd taken a scissors from her bag right there at the table
before me and cut off all her long fingernails. Nonetheless fortunately, she
didn't.
After our meal we went dancing. Anne asked if I would object if she chose the
venue and I said I'd be happy any-place as long as I was with her. Instead of
flashing lights and blaring music and young folk gyrating a meter apart from
one-another, Anne brought us to a small, dimly-lit place below street-level with
soft music, peopled with couples who were all much older than us, some dancing
close and some simply gazing in-to each others' eyes across half-filled wine
glasses at tiny tables. Anne watched to see how I would react to her choice.
"I'm happy to see that you're a hopeless romantic like me," I said as I escorted
her to dance. "Being a romantic is all about having hope, don't you think?" she
asked, and we kissed passionately. We danced until the last song, and
walked slowly back to Anne's room holding hands. When we arrived at her door
she started up the steps but didn't release my hand, and I followed her to her
door. "Will you wait here a moment, please?" she asked as she un-locked the
door and went inside. Several minutes passed, and finally I knocked lightly on
the door and called her name. "Please come in-side," she called softly, and I
opened the door and went in. The room was lit only by the flickering of several
thick candles resting in glass holders surrounding a crystal vase that held the
bouquet of flowers I'd brought her, on the same low table that I'd always placed
my mathematics books. The table was pulled away from the davenport, which was
now opened in-to a bed. Lying to one side with her head tossed back was Anne,
demurely covered by the dark silk sheet but clearly she was completely un-
dressed. She swept her hand across the sheet next to her, her slender fingers
with their long, white-tipped nails outstretched, and patted the empty place
beside her. "Be sure to lock the door," she said softly, and in a moment I was
un-dressed and lying beside her. As we kissed for a long while, she grazed her
long nails gently across my skin everywhere. There was no hurry or urgency,
only warm passion and savouring every exquisite touch and sensation. We both
wanted to please the other as much as we wanted pleasure, which was quite
different from the sexual experiences I'd had before. Anne whispered, "Remember
when I told you I disdained casual sex, and you said that sex with me could
never be casual?" I answered that I did remember, and assured her it wasn't
casual, but she gently placed a finger to my lips. "I want to have sex with you
even if you're not in-love with me," she continued, "So I beg you not to tell me
you love me unless you truly do." I agreed, and we resumed kissing for a while
longer. Just as we were about to consummate our passion I told her that I was
madly, insanely in-love with her and she replied, "Oh thank God! Me too." As
opposed to simply having sex, that night was the first time I genuinely made
love to someone. Anne drove me absolutely wild with her long nails, but neither
simply because she enjoyed using them on a man nor simply because she knew I
enjoyed it. Her enjoyment of using her nails actually derived from knowing how
much it turned me on. It seems like pure semantics but in reality it was a
monumental difference from anything I'd experienced before.
Anne and I were together for the remainder of our university studies. We spent
two summers with back-packs and thumbs travelling, vowing to make love in all
the world's most exotic and romantic places. She was quite driven in the
direction of a career, and accepted a graduate fellowship half-way round the
globe, which I encouraged her to do, knowing that whilst the separation would
put an end to our affair, keeping her from her dreams would surely put an end to
our love. Both of us have had our share of affairs-of-convenience since then,
but neither of us has ever married. We continue to meet as often as her work
carries her in-to my city. Anne is growing weary of her career and each time we
meet we talk with more determination about eventually spending the rest of our
lives together. And she still has her beauty--and her long, natural nails,
which she promised me will never be sacrificed to fashion.
-
THE BEST YEARS Part 3
JOCELYN.
If you only find women with nails more than a centimeter long alluring, then you
may not appreciate what follows. However if you find more modest nail-length
even slightly attractive, you may find this a rather interesting read.
In my years of graduate fellowship at university one of the responsibilties for
which I earned my meager stipend involved teaching and advising the younger
students. Consorting was strictly forbidden, not that it stopped anyone, but
being discreet about one's indiscretions was well-advised if one valued one's
fellowship as I did. Sometimes I had the co-operation of the young lady in that
regard, and other times the onus for discrection was entirely upon me. Jocelyn
was a case of the latter, in fact she made her intentions known to all her
mates, and her advances were anything but subtle. Fortunately Jocelyn didn't
have very long nails or a particularly attractive aura, which made it somewhat
easier for me to resist her. She was a tiny thing, with stringy brown hair that
hung about to the base of her shoulder-blades, and huge brown doe-eyes set in a
sweet face buried under rather garish make-up. She had rather
disproportionately large breasts for someone so diminuitive, and in order to
maximise their prominence, she wore no brassiere, and blouses that were one or
two sizes too small. One could not perceive the out-line of undergarments
beneath the tight, short skirts she wore, and whenever she came to my tiny,
window-less office to discuss her scholastic progress, her shall we say
'feminine aroma' persisted long after she'd gone. Despite having absolutely no
taste or class, she nonetheless thought herself sexy and irresistible, no doubt
a conclusion she'd drawn as a result of the ease with which she compelled blokes
to have sex with her. Although she was slender, she had rather short fingers,
accentuated by the fact that she wore rings on every of them, and she had
somewhat short nail-beds as well. She seemed not to ever cut her fingernails,
but simply allow them to break on their own, which they did rather frequently as
the longest were barely a centimeter, and shaped however they'd happened to have
previously broken. She also tended to always have on badly-chipped varnish,
although I don't recall ever seeing what appeared to be a fresh coat, so perhaps
she applied it at night and then nervously picked it off by the time I saw her
the next day. Jocelyn also wore the same pair of tattered flat sandals the
entire year, including in the dead of winter when only on the coldest days would
she also don a pair of woolen stockings, charitably covering her often-dirty
toenails which were also usually an average of half a centimeter long and like
her fingernails, varied in length from digit to digit as they broke and re-grew.
If I've painted a slightly unappealing picture, then I've succeeded in
portraying Jocelyn as she appeared to me, and now you must consider that this
girl was relentless in her pursuit of my attentions. I knew of her reputation
well enough not to be flattered that she'd chosen to set her sights in my
direction.
I was grateful when the scholastic year ended, and I anticipated a very needed
summer respite at a small cottage I'd been offered by a colleague who was
spending the summer away on an archaeological dig. How Jocelyn knew about it
and where to find me she would never reveal, but the term 'stalker' could've
been coined to describe her efforts. The second night of my holiday there was a
knock on the door and there she stood with an old back-pack over one shoulder
and the same beaten sandals on her dirty feet. It was late and I couldn't very
well turn her out in-to the night, so I told her she could stay on the davenport
in the front room if she promised to be off the next day. Of course she so
agreed, but no doubt assumed that by morning she wouldn't have to honour her
promise. She asked where I kept marijuana, and when I responded that I didn't
indulge and therefore had none, she cursed and asked if there was a pub near-by
and I said there was, and she said "Since you've humiliated me by making it
clear you don't want to sleep with me after I've come all this way, and I can't
even get stoned, the least you can do is have a pint with me, and talk." I
figured it would actually be to my advantage to occupy her in public rather than
spend the evening alone with her at home, plus I half-hoped she'd find some
other bloke to fancy and I'd be rid of her.
There were quite a few blokes in the pub, but none of them shy of forty and
Jocelyn wasn't interested. She engaged me in a few games of darts which she
lost badly. One of the regular patrons who perhaps thought he had a chance at
taking her home, professed to teach her the fine points of darts, putting his
left arm round her ample bosom whilst guiding her right hand as he demonstrated
the proper technique. Most of her darts ended in the wall surrounding the
board, but she suggested they play 'a real game', and she offered him a small
wager 'to make it interesting'. Her wager was herself for the night, against a
rather tidy sum of money. The bloke took the wager of course, assuming no doubt
it was Jocelyn's intent all-along to have sex with him, and said, "Ladies
first." Excusing herself as she took a step to her right, Jocelyn said with a
wink "Actually, I'm left-handed." And in fact Jocelyn was wickedly good at darts
and the hapless devil went home alone and with his pockets empty, not to mention
being the laughing-stock of his mates for no doubt the rest of his life. I had
to admit, I admired her pluck, and combined with copious amounts of ale and the
fact I'd been in rather a dry-spell of late, Jocelyn began to appear more
attractive as the evening progressed. We left as the pub was closing, and
somewhat stumbled home. As we entered the cottage, Jocelyn asked me if I still
hated her, to which I replied that of course I'd never hated her, and then she
asked if I still wanted her to sleep on the davenport, to which--being not
entirely intoxicated--I replied that I did. I was tired and wanted to have a
bath and go to sleep.
I was in the bath when the door suddenly opened and Jocelyn said she badly
needed to use the loo after all the ale she'd drunk. My towel was across the
room and I yelled for her to wait a moment, but she ignored me and dropped her
jeans round her ankles and sat down and relieved herself of what sounded like
several liters. Then she stood up and stepped over her jeans and pulled her
blouse over her head and was totally naked and she came over to the bath-tub and
lifted her foot over the rim. Her sole was nearly black with grime and her un-
trimmed toenails had so much dirt beneath them it looked as though she'd been
digging post-holes. "Don't you dare," I gasped. "Or what, you'll scream?" she
laughed, ignoring my protests and climbing in. "Jocelyn, I told you I'm not
going to sleep with you," I said sternly. "You didn't mean it," she said,
sitting atop me. "Yes, I did!" I said emphatically. "But I wager you don't mean
it now, and you know better than to wager against me," she said with a wink as
she reached a hand behind her and stroked me with her fingernails, getting me
fully aroused in half a second. "See," she giggled, "Good thing you didn't take
that wager." At that point, between the ale and her ministrations I was under
her control, and she lay forward against my chest and brought her face to mine
and closed her eyes. Whilst I indeed now wanted to have sex with her, I wasn't
sure I wanted to kiss her, and hesitated long enough that she re-opened her
eyes. With a devilish smile she began lightly scraping my nipples with her
thumbnails. The sensation was overpowering and she closed her eyes again and put
her open mouth on mine. I couldn't have imagined someone that small could have
such a long tongue.
I am rather tall and my knees were bent so I could keep my feet in-side the
bath-tub, and even as tiny as Jocelyn was she could not find a position where it
was possible, let alone comfortable, to have sex. She got out of the bath-tub
and pulled me by my arm until I also was out. I reached for my towel as she ran
to the bed and jumped in, still dripping-wet. In the few seconds it took for me
to reach the bed, the sheets were soaked. Jocelyn tore the towel from my waist
playfully and wrapped her small fingers round my arousal and gently pulled me
in-to bed. She lay on top of me and kissed me again. "Make a muscle," she
commanded, touching my upper-arm. I constricted my bicep as she asked. She
stroked it with her hand and started breathing hard. I wasn't in any way
muscle-bound, simply average in build, so I was puzzled why my unremarkable
bicep would turn her on but if it did, I wasn't complaining. Then she scraped
my bicep with her fingernails and sank them in forcibly, emitting a little gasp.
I grasped her wrist to free myself from her painful, stabbing grip, and she let
go, leaving five red half-circular indents in my arm. "I orgasmed," she
announced, "All I need do is feel a bloke's muscle." She kissed me deeply for a
long while, placing her feet between my legs and rubbing me slowly between her
soles just enough to make certain I remained fully aroused. Fortunately I'd
forgotten how filthy her feet were, despite having been in the bath with me for
several minutes. Suddenly Jocelyn slithered down to the end of the bed and
gently retracted my fore-skin with her fingers and licked my most-sensitive area
in slow circles, casting glances up at me from moment to moment, and then
engulfed me in her mouth very, very slowly several times. She raised her head
and as I popped out of her mouth she said, "I've a feeling you may only have one
shot in you to-night, and I'm saving it for me," and she giggled, "I'm selfish
like that." Jocelyn clambored back up to my face and pulled me up by my
shoulders as she slid off to the side, clearly she wanted me on top. As I sat
up she got in front of me on her knees and raised her arse. "Like that?" I
asked, somewhat shocked. "However you want, just get to it," she demanded,
annoyed. I flipped her over on her back and began slowly kissing and licking
her rather ample breasts. She dug her fingernails in-to my arse and pulled hard
and screamed, "God damn it, fuck me!" Jocelyn was most definitely not the least
bit romantic, and whilst I have as much respect for wild, animalistic sex as the
next bloke, her attitude was a bit overly perfunctory if not mechanistic and it
was a bit of a turn-off. Nonetheless if she didn't want fore-play, so be it.
I was very glad that the cottage was rather remote from neighbours, because
Jocelyn was loudly vocal whilst having sex, and the language she screamed-out
would've embarrassed most persons of even modestly proper up-bringing. I'd never
been with anyone who talked like that during sex or at any other time. And then
there were her fingernails. As I mentioned, they varied in length but at the
very most a centimeter. Despite the depiction of women in fantasies with six-
centimeter nails carving men up like Christmas hams, in reality the most cruel
and injurious nails are those a centimeter or less, weilded by women with no
conscience or reservation against putting the full strength of their hands in-to
clawing. Jocelyn was one of those. She sank her nails into my shoulders and
back and clawed me slowly and forcibly. She placed her hands against my chest
and dug her fingernails into my pectorals. She even brought her knees up under
my arms and gouged her great-toe nails into my hips. I remembered the black
filth I'd noticed under-neath those un-kempt toe-nails and prayed the time she'd
spent with me in the bath had rinsed some of it away. I also prayed she didn't
have a venereal disease as those were the days when the use of condoms was the
exception rather than the rule and I had none at hand. Every so often she would
relax and exhale sharply, which I didn't know if it signified she'd climaxed or
if she was simply catching her breath. I had no indication whether she'd had
enough and kept going to see whether she'd start up again. Which she did,
seeming to have a limit-less supply of energy. "Hurry up, I'm done," she
announced suddenly, and began thrusting furiously whereupon I exploded
momentarily. I no sooner rolled over than she had lit a cigarette and was
exhaling a cloud of smoke. I snatched it from her mouth and dropped it in-to a
glass of water that I had sitting on the night-table. "I don't care if you
smoke, but not in the house unless you want to put your head out an open
window," I snapped.
"You certainly have a lot of rules," she retorted and she slid out of bed and
wiped herself between her legs with the corner of the sheet. "Night night," she
said and turned about. "Where are you going?" I asked. "To sleep on the
davenport," she replied, "like you said to." I grabbed her arm and pulled her
back in-to the bed. "I don't feel like fucking again," she moaned. "Neither do
I," I said, wrapping my arms round her little body and turning out the lamp.
Gradually she wrapped her arms round me very tightly and put her leg over mine
and I heard her sniffle. "What is it?" I enquired quietly. "Nothing," she
said, her voice breaking, "Nothing at all. This is nice. You're nice. Thank
you." She turned her face up and kissed me softly, bid me good-night and fell
asleep in my arms.
When I awoke in the morning Jocelyn was still in my embrace, deep asleep. I
attempted to extricate myself without waking her, but she stirred and opened her
eyes. "What time is it?" she asked sleepily. "Half past ten," I answered.
"What time is the train out?" she asked. "A quarter past eight," I replied.
"Oh dear, we seem to have over-slept," she gasped with mock regret. "Oh shut
up," I said, trying--unsuccesfully--not to smile, "Are you hungry?" "Positively
famished!" she replied, "Fucking makes me hungry." "Would you please, for my
sake, at least try to stop using that word?" I begged, "Especially at the top of
your lungs that the neighbours can hear it." Jocelyn slipped out of bed and
walked toward the loo, but stopped by the window and cast it open and, thrusting
her breasts into the warm summer air, yelled, "You out there, close your
windows! Because we in here are about to fuck ...and fuck, and fuck, and fuck!"
I raced to the window and closed it with one hand whilst scooping Jocelyn off
the ground with the other. "You're quite mad!" I exclaimed. "And you're a
prude," she retorted, giggling loudly and squirming. I no sooner set her back
on the ground than she jumped in-to my arms and wrapped her legs tightly round
my waist and gave me a quick kiss straight-on, which she followed with a long,
deep french-kiss. "We are, you know," she said. "Are what?" I asked, stupidly.
"Going to fuck and fuck and fuck," she replied, and she french-kissed me again,
this time wrapping her arms round my neck and raking her fingernails across my
back. It was inordinately painful considering it wasn't forceful, and I turned
my head to cast a glance in the mirror at my back, and I could see that it was
cris-crossed with a maze of angry red furrows from the previous evening, some
which had bled.
"We're going to have to do something about your fingernails," I said solemnly.
"I'd love to have them very long but they insist upon cracking" she sighed
plaintively. I said, "No, I meant perhaps you could ease-up a bit when you claw
me." Trying to work her wiles on me she said, "If I shall be leaving shortly it
won't much matter, now will it." Then she added, "But of course if you should
wish me to stay on, then well, that's another thing entirely." "Jocelyn," I
began in a serious tone, but she interrupted me, staring straight into my eyes
saying in a very deliberate tone, "I know you want me to stay, and you know you
want me to stay. In fact if I were to leave you'd be wanking-off to the memory
of me for the rest of the summer and kicking yourself in the arse for having let
me go." My look must have betrayed my thoughts, because she said, "There. You
see, I'm right." And with that Jocelyn fetched her back-pack from the front
room and shoveled its contents into an empty drawer in my dresser.
"Let's fuck!" she exclaimed brightly. "I thought you were hungry," I reminded
her. "I am," she said. She knelt before me as I sat on the edge of the bed,
resting her chin on my thighs and kissing and licking me to full arousal before
retracting my fore-skin with her fingers and enveloping me with her mouth. She
pushed me backward onto the bed and climbed up, never missing a stroke. "I'm
very, very hungry," she said in a breathy, sultry voice just before she gently
scraped my most-sensitive area with her teeth. She began raking her fingernails
down my thighs with just the right pressure to drive me wild with excitement. I
felt extraordinary suction as her head bobbed up and down, and she felt me with
her other hand as I tightened and she quickly squeezed me hard at my base so I
couldn't explode. Suddenly she let-go of me and climbed over me and lay on her
back with her legs apart and her arms outstretched and panted, "Come fuck me."
I didn't waste a second getting inside her and began thrusting as furiously as I
could, not caring that Jocelyn was screaming 'fuck...me...' over and over to the
rythm of my thrusting, and grabbing my arse and clawing my back with her sharp
fingernails. Suddenly her body convulsed and she screamed our Saviour's name,
then she went limp for a moment, after which she pushed me off of her and onto
my back and once again enveloped me with her mouth, bringing me quickly to a
release so blissful that I felt it in every cell in my body, then gradually
winding-down her ministrations until I had completely relaxed. Jocelyn kissed
my navel and laid her head against my stomach and I reached down and pulled her
up onto my chest and we both fell asleep for almost an hour. When we awakened,
Jocelyn sat up facing me with her knees bent and legs apart. Her female scent
was rather acrid and cloying and I had a close-up view of her filthy long
toenails so I suggested, as sweetly and tactfully as I could, that perhaps she
might consider having a bath. She lifted one foot and gently dragged her great-
toe nail down my arm and said in a seductively sweet voice, "If you'll bathe
me."
I busied myself drawing her a hot bath and when I looked back, Jocelyn was on
the bed having tea and biscuits and had brought me a cup of tea as well. "Your
bath awaits, miss," I said, bowing and sweeping my hand toward the door.
Jocelyn stepped over the high tub rim and settled into the mound of frothy
bubbles. She ducked under-water to make her hair wet and when she emerged she
handed me the shampoo and I lathered her well. "Close your eyes so you don't
get soap in them," I instructed her, whilst I used a small cup to bail water
over her head until I'd rinsed her clean. She combed her wet hair back with her
fingers and opened her eyes and put her arms round my neck and kissed me slowly.
Then she handed me the sponge and soap and I washed her back. I had one arm
round her front to steady her, and she took my hand and kissed it and placed it
on her breasts, and as I fondled them she sighed and gently scratched her
fingernails up and down my arm. I washed her shoulders and she lifted her arms
one by one so that I could wash under them and down her sides. As I brought the
sponge to her breasts she placed my other hand between her legs and dug her
nails lightly into my arm as she started my fingers moving in a rythm that
pleased her, craning her neck so that I would kiss her again. She turned on her
stomach and lifted her bum for me to wash her, then turned on her back again and
spread her legs for me to wash in-between, during which she dug her nails into
my hand and climaxed. Then she lifted each leg in turn as I gently washed them.
The soles of her feet were black with filth, and I had to scrub them with a
soaped cloth, but when they were finally clean, they were pink and baby-soft.
I was as aroused as she, by the time I placed her feet against the rim of the
tub on either side and asked, "Do you have a manicure kit amongst your things?"
"No. Why?" she asked, and added, "If any of my nails ever get too long I cut
them with a scissors but usually they crack off before that." I got my nail-
cutter from my shaving kit and Jocelyn said, "If you think my toenails are
disgusting, go ahead and cut them." I pretended to consider it, whilst I
examined her toes. She had rather short, plump toes and and her toenails were
hardly in the gargoyle category, being under a half a centimeter long except for
her great-toes which were somewhat longer in the centre and tapered, as if
they'd been filed, which they hadn't. To me her little feet were rather sexy--or
at least they would be, once the nails were clean. "I'm just going to clean
beneath them," I assured her, showing her the pointed file which folded out of
my nail-cutters. Very gently I began scraping the grit and grime from beneath
her toenails, being careful not to poke her with the sharp instrument. The bath
had soaked them well and they cleaned easily. When I was finished her toenails
were white and looked longer somehow. I had been so engrossed with her toenails
that I hadn't noticed, until I heard her soft groan, that whilst I'd been
ministering to her feet she'd fingered herself to a climax. She opened her eyes
and smiled and I planted a gentle kiss on her toes, and as I did so she pushed
them into my mouth. I'm not a foot-fetishist, but I'm not averse to sucking a
set of freshly-bathed toes if it makes the lady happy, and clearly it made
Jocelyn happy. Very, very happy. She closed her eyes and resumed fingering
herself to another climax. Finally she extended her arms for me to help her out
of the tub, and as I wrapped a soft, white towel round her back she wrapped her
dripping arms round me and we kissed passionately.
Jocelyn held me tightly round my neck and as I lifed her little wet body from
the tub she wrapped her legs round my waist and we continued to kiss. She
reached down and raked me up my back whilst with her other hand she sank her
nails into my chest, as her kiss grew more forceful and her breathing grew
heavier. I carried her like that to the bed and let her slip off of me, where
she instinctively knelt with her arse in the air. "Do you truly like it that
way?" I asked her. "Oh, I forgot. No, actually I like it much better your way
but most blokes seem to want to take me from behind," she said, flipping on her
back and raising and spreading her legs wide like a "V". As she guided me in-to
her, I joked, "I thought perhaps you might've been raised by dingoes." "Then
you must've been raised by missionaries," she retorted, just before she gasped
and dug her fingernails into my shoulders, and then she giggled, "Which would
also account for why you're such a prude."
We decided to take bread and cheese and a bottle of wine and have a mid-day meal
out-doors on a grassy slope near a stone fence not far from the cottage. There
was a lovely view of the surroundings and plenty of near-by shade-trees to sit
beneath. Before we left the house Jocelyn spread a host of make-up items across
the bed. I asked her if she'd mind not painting her face, and she looked at me
rather puzzled. I told her it only served to hide her natural loveliness and
after all, we were in the country-side, not the city. She scooped her make-up
back into her kit bag and kissed me softly, then it became more passionate and I
felt her hand between my legs. I stopped her, saying if we didn't take it a bit
easier, we'd soon both be too raw and sore to have sex. "Then stop saying
wonderful things that make me want to fuck you!" she pleaded, digging her sharp
fingernails into my side through my shirt. I picked up the food basket Jocelyn
had packed, and stepped into canvas shoes and Jocelyn picked up a blanket and
headed out the door. "It's a bit rocky getting there," I said to Jocelyn,
gazing at her bare feet. "Then you'll carry me over the rocks," she replied
with a twinkle. "And dirty," I added. "Then you'll bathe me again," she said
softly, wrapping her arms round my waist and gently stroking my bare leg with
her soft, clean foot and her great-toe nail. As we walked off, she took my hand
and said, "I might even submit to a bath every day, provided you bathe me." I
told her that sounded like a splendid idea, and made it a nightly ritual.
Jocelyn loved being bathed purely for its eroticism, having disturbingly little
concern for hygiene. Although I found it erotic as well, primarily I
appreciated that it assured she was clean when we had sex at bed-time as well as
upon waking in the morning.
As I set the basket down at our destination I told Jocelyn to spread out the
blanket for us to lie on. "I thought the blanket was to cover us whilst we fuck
in the grass," she said with complete seriousness. "Does everything always have
to be about sex?" I asked her. "If I enjoyed chastity I'd have gone to visit my
grand-mum," she replied. "You think that a few hours a day spent talking to a
man equates to chastity?" I offered. She winked and said, "Awfully close. Oh,
and I can talk and fuck at the same time...would you like to see?" "Screaming
filthy phrases and taking the Lord's name isn't what I meant by talking," I
retorted. "Oh all-right, as you wish," she grumbled, spreading the blanket on
the ground. I gave her some bread and cheese and opened the wine. "You didn't
pack any wine glasses?" I asked. "What for?" she said, engulfing the neck of
the bottle with her mouth and up-ending it, swallowing several times, then
handing it to me. Seeing the look on my face, she wiped the lip of the bottle
with her shirt and offered it to me again, asking, "There, is that better?" in a
rather annoyed tone. I began to suspect that Jocelyn believed that I was indeed
'a prude' and therefore she could appeal to some forbidden fantasy deep within
my unconscious by being crass and vulgar. Or perhaps I truly was something of a
prude and she was truly crass and vulgar. Either way, the more something she
said or did shocked and disgusted me, the more she aroused me.
After we'd finished our meal and the bottle of wine was empty, I lay back on the
blanket and implored Jocelyn to breathe in the clean air and admire the
beautiful view. She lay back on the blanket and inhaled deeply from a cigarette
and clouded the view in smoke. I told her that some famous poetry was written
in the very region, inspired by the idyllic setting. She lamented that I didn't
have any marijuana as she really would've loved to get stoned, and complained
we'd brought only one bottle of wine. Of which, incidentally, she had consumed
the lion's share. Jocelyn took the corner of the blanket and covered herself
and rolled on top of me and said, "All-right, we ate, we drank, we talked. Now
let's fuck." I kissed her on the fore-head and rolled her off of me, saying,
"We've to-night for that." "So? I expect to fuck to-night as well," she
responded. "Patience is a virtue," I informed her. She began "I haven't been
virtuous since the age of..." but I interrupted her with, "Please, don't tell
me." "Prude!" she laughed. Jocelyn turned on her side and dragged her toenails
up my shin. "In the bath I told you, if you didn't like them you could cut
them, but you didn't," she observed, and added, "Every bloke I've ever known
hated my toenails." Taken by surprise, I stammered-on a bit, and suddenly her
eyes and her mouth opened wide and she pointed her finger at me and said, "Oh my
God, you have one of those 'things' for long, dirty toenails!" "Not dirty
ones," I said, truthfully, and then I fibbed, "And yours are the first long ones
I've ever seen on a girl and I'm as surprised as you that I find them sexy."
"That's so smashing," she responded, "I've had blokes who got turned-on by just
about every part of me but never before my toenails." "I get turned-on by just
about every part of you as well as your toenails," I said, hoping to divest
myself of freak-status in her eyes. "Then fuck me," she said, sinking her teeth
lightly into my neck, tracing her tongue up my throat to my mouth, pulling my
lower lip with her teeth and plunging her tongue into my mouth. Jocelyn quickly
freed me from my shorts and, thanks to the convenience of a very short skirt and
no undergarments, mounted me instantly and began to grind herself on me slowly.
She grabbed my hands and brought them under her shirt to her hard, proud nipples
and once she'd set me to fondling, shed her shirt over her head. "What if one
of the neighbours happens along?" I cried, "What will they think?" "That a
prude like you doesn't deserve to be fucked by the likes of me," she panted
breathlessly. Jocelyn began raking her fingernails up and down my fore-arms
with increasing pressure. Suddenly she swept my hands from her breasts. "Make
a muscle," she commanded, grasping my biceps. I bent my arms and clenched my
fists as hard as I could, raising as much muscle as I could, which was as I said
before, rather ordinary. I felt her tighten round me like a tournequet as she
continued to slowly churn her hips. She sank her nails into my biceps and
emitted a long moan of ecstasy, then she rode me up and down rapidly, raking my
chest with her nails. She leant herself forward, still riding to and fro, and
whilst she sank her nails into my neck she panted in-to my ear, "Is it only my
long toenails, or do my long fingernails turn you on as well?" She sat up and
began to ride me furiously, and I exploded. She slowed until she felt my
arousal subside and fell on top of me completely exhausted. I pulled the
blanket over us and she laid her head on my shoulder and kissed my neck.
Suddenly she lifted her head and asked in a most concerned voice, "Are you cross
with me?" "No, of course not. Why would you think I might be cross with you?"
I asked, puzzled, and she replied, "Because I made you fuck instead of admiring
the trees and grass." "Oh shut up," I said, and we kissed.
Jocelyn stayed the entire summer, and I can't recall a time in my life when I
had sex as frequently. It was purely physical enjoyment, as we had little in
common and whilst we liked each other, neither of us was falling in-love. When
we returned to university we continued to have liasons once a week, which always
included me bathing Jocelyn and cleaning her toenails, and she always stayed the
night and slept tightly in my arms. There was never any jealousy or pressure
toward making ours an exclusive relationship, but we did spend the following
summer together, as well as every university holiday until she was done.
Gradually Jocelyn began to long for love and dream of marriage, and as we didn't
have such feelings towards one-another, I felt it would be selfish to keep her
from finding lasting happiness. Our last time together was incredible, and I
bore the marks from her fingernails for months afterward. We agreed that if she
didn't fall in love, she could come by for a bath any time she desired, but I
never heard from her again so I like to think she found her knight in armour and
is somewhere happily married...to a very, very lucky bastard.
-
THE BLIND-DATE
THE BLIND-DATE
As a lad I was fond of reading stories and watching cinemas about vampires,
zombies, ghosts, murderous psychopaths and other assorted tales of horror, and
my mum was always concerned that I would suffer from night-mares, which I did
not. Ironically, the closest I ever came to living horror was as a result of a
'blind date', which in fact my mum had orchestrated, during Christmas holiday my
first year of university.
Isabel was the daughter of one of Mum's acquaintances, not even a close friend,
and my mum had never seen Isabel or even a photograph of her. All she knew, or
would relate to me, was that Isabel was a year younger than I but quite
brilliant and also in her first year at university. At that age, brilliance was
not in the top-ten qualities I cherished in a girl, but of course my mum wasn't
of a mind to consider that. That long nails was a prerequisite for my
attraction to any girl, was something my mum was completely un-aware of.
Nonetheless I was a dutiful son, and not wanting to embarrass my mum before her
aquaintance, I had no choice but to acquiesce.
When I arrived at Isabel's home, she opened the door and I was at least relieved
that she had a rather attractive face, framed by dark-blonde hair that fell
about her shoulders. Not wishing to appear as if I were visually un-dressing her
I maintained eye-contact, but in fact I was dying to steal a glance at her hands
and did so at the first opportune moment. I was quite un-prepared for what I
saw. Her hands were slender and lovely, and her fingernails were at least two
and a half centimeters long, rather downward-curved, and sported a freshly-
applied coat of red varnish. My mum had advised me, from information given by
the girl's mum, that she was "a nice girl", but one look at those talons and I
felt certain her mum hadn't the foggiest. I was staring awe-stricken at her
nails, and didn't even hear what she was saying to me until she raised her
voice. There was no possibility that she didn't clearly recognise I had a
fascination with nails, and I imagined she would tell her mum that I was some
kind of pervert, and her mum would then tell mine, and I started to panic. "Oh
God, you hate my nails!" she cried, giving me the saddest look. "No, no, not at
all," I replied, and I suddenly believed I might after all have a slim
opportunity to redeem myself. "Really? Do you like them?" she asked, taking my
hand and ushering me in. I looked down and saw her long, curved, red talons
wrapped round my hand and like a complete fool blurted out, "Oh, I really like
them!" I was certain I'd ruined things, but she didn't seem to react negatively
at all.
We had a fantastic evening. Isabel was actually quite charming, enough that she
was able to wrest my attention away from her long, red fingernails periodically.
She smoked quite a bit, which I didn't particularly like as I tend to be
somewhat allergic to smoke, but the sensual, feline way she moved her taloned
fingers as she handled a cigarette mitigated my discomfort. That and the way
she handled a wine glass and silver-ware was pure ballet. Every so often during
conversation she would touch my sleeve and her nails made a crackling
sound against the fabric. When I asked her to dance she apologised and said she
was un-used to tall heels and asked if I would mind if we waited for a slow
song. When we finally arose, we danced at a proper distance for all of perhaps
ten seconds when she drew herself to me. She had her arm over my shoulder and
she was holding herself so tightly to me that when she gently scratched the back
of my neck she could feel me become instantly aroused. She smiled at me, and I
averted her eyes by casting a downward-sideways glance, only to be faced with
the sight of long, curved red nails wrapped round my hand. She extended her
taloned fore-finger and gently brushed it down my upper lip, round the corner of
my mouth, and down my chin. Squeezing herself even more tightly against my
arousal she said softly, "You really do like my nails." I stammered hopelessly,
unable to say anything intelligible, let alone something witty and urbane. She
brushed her nail across my lips and smiled, "And my nails really like you."
I asked her if she would like to see a cinema, and for a moment she seemed less
than enthusiastic, but then she said that would be fine if that's what I wanted.
However we never saw the picture, because the moment we sat down she turned
toward me and raked her claws up the inside of my thigh and straight between my
legs, and we kissed for about thirty seconds when she pulled me from my seat and
out in-to the street. In the taxi we went at one another again, and she was
just starting to un-fasten my belt as we pulled-up at her parents' house.
"Damn," I said, and told the driver to wait whilst I escorted her to the door.
She said that wouldn't be necessary. "Oh, all-right" I said, feeling somewhat
hurt. "Oh, no, I meant it wouldn't be necessary for the driver to wait," she
laughed, pulling me from the taxi as I tossed the driver his money. She took me
quickly up-stairs and in-to her room, closed the door and turned on the radio
softly. We sat on her bed for a second and then she pushed me back on the bed
and opened my shirt, then stood quickly and in a series of fluid movements
lasting no more than perhaps ten seconds, pulled her dress off over her head and
flung it behind her, then quickly removed her stockings and undergarments and
was completely naked except for her dangling gold earrings and the crucifix
round her neck. "Your parents!" I cried. "They're very sound sleepers," she
assured me. I sat up, saying "I'd really best be off." But she just laughed and
pushed me back down with her knee as she gently raked her long, curved red claws
down my chest, and said "My nails want you to stay." And in a second she freed
me from my trousers and shorts and lowered herself on-to me. As she moved she
sank her long, red fingernails rather painfully in-to my chest. She sat up and
brought my hands to her breasts and whilst I caressed her nipples she raked her
nails along my arms. The more excited she became, the harder she clawed me, and
I actually began to become distracted from my own arousal because of the pain.
Just at that moment a woman's voice called from the hall-way, "Isabel?" "Yes,
Mum?" she hollered. "Isabel, how was your evening?" her mum shouted. "Rather
nice I should say," she answered. "And your young man?" "Rather nice as well,
Mum." "Do you think he will call again?" "I imagine he might," Isabel
answered. "You see how fabulously things sort themselves out when you act like
a lady!" her mum exclaimed. "Indeed, mum," Isabel replied. "Well, I hope from
now on you'll stay on top of things!" her mum shouted. "Oh, I promise I shall,"
Isabel answered, doing her best to contain her laughter at the unexpected irony.
Throughout the entire conversation Isabel had continued to ride me, but once the
distraction had passed her eyes halfway closed and she began to move slower but
harder and she leant forward and pulled at my shoulder and we flipped over and
as I took over she wrapped her legs round me and French-kissed me. Suddenly she
pulled the pillow from behind her head and put it between our faces, and bit in-
to it to muffle her scream as her entire body shook and she clawed my back
forcibly again and again. The pain was so sudden and intense that my arousal
dissipated.
As we lay there, she embraced me and began stroking me with her long nails, and
I became aroused immediately. She was surprised, until I informed her that I
hadn't been able to be satisfied the first time because she clawed me so hard.
"Oh God, I'm sorry!" she cried, and then sat me up and gasped when she saw what
she'd done to my back, "Oh God, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You must hate me." Then
she confessed that until about eight months earlier she'd weighed 30 kilogrammes
more than she did currently, and that not many boys had fancied her. At the
time she resolved to lose weight, she'd also resolved to stop biting her
fingernails down to nothing. I told her I admired her initiative, and assured
her that I fancied her and was more than willing to help her make-up for lost
time in bed. She smiled and said, "If you insist on being so wonderful, my
nails may insist that I fall in love with you," and she rested her hand between
my legs and scraped me gently with her long nails and as I instantly rose to her
touch she swung her leg over and mounted me again.
And so it went every night for the remainder of the Christmas holiday, and by
the end my body had more scabs than skin but she had learnt to reign-in her
ardour just enough that she didn't kill my arousal, and we could both share our
bliss at more or less the same time. We each left for our respective
universities vowing to make summer holiday even more memorable than Christmas
had been. However one of my mates' brother went to her university and word
filtered back to me that Isabel hadn't been able to sustain herself on her diet
and had re-gained at least as much weight as she'd lost. And worse still, the
anxiety of failure had compelled her to return to her nail-biting habit. I
called her and told her that I'd met someone else, and as she didn't know I knew
she'd gained weight and lost her nails, she never suspected that had anything to
do with it. I felt genuinely terrible about it, but I could no more resist my
need for long nails than she could resist eating and nail-biting. Selfishly I
felt glad that her re-lapse had occured before we'd got truly serious
about one another, rather than after.
-
The Gift of Jade
The Gift of Jade…by R. Starkweather
"Ladies and gentlemen," the young womans voice announced over the loudspeaker at
Gate C33, "The ground crew has discovered a malfunction in one of the aircrafts
hydraulic systems. Mechanics are on their way with replacement parts, but it will take
several hours for repairs to be effected, tested, and the aircraft re-certified for takeoff.
We regret any inconvenience this may cause with regard to connecting flights, and we
will be updating you as we get new information. On behalf of the airline, we thank you
for your patience and understanding , and as always, thank you for choosing to fly with
us."
"Shit!" grunted a man in a business suit, looking fretfully at his watch. He realized hed
said it a bit too loud, and he looked up tentatively to see if anyone around him seemed
offended. The other passengers at the gate were all occupied with their own problems,
and he was glad he hadnt called attention to himself. As he scanned the row of
passengers sitting facing him, he noticed one very attractive young woman sitting almost
directly opposite, with earbuds in her ears leading to an iPod lying in her lap, engrossed
in listening to whatever it was she was listening to. She had long hair, the color of which
was so ink-black it had to have been dyed, and multiple earrings around both ears, and he
could see part of a tattoo of a spiderweb on her neck. He estimated her to be early
twenties, and she was wearing threadbare jeans so he surmised she was probably not
traveling on business. Admittedly that thought had come to him only after he had
appreciated how her shapely young breasts filled-out her t-shirt. It was a long-sleeved t-
shirt, and he noticed that she had the sleeves pulled down to cover her hands. It was a
little chilly in the airport, but still it annoyed him because he really wanted to see her
hands.
He was just about to look away from the girl when she looked up at him and yanked her
earbuds out and cocked her head as if to say, "Did you want something?" He could feel
himself blush. Not because shed caught him staring, although thats what he hoped she
would think. He blushed because when she reached to pull out her earbuds, he had been
totally unprepared for the sudden sight of her slender, feminine fingers all with
immaculately-clear, real fingernails from just under to just over an inch long. The ends
were straight across with just the slightest rounded corners. When she saw him blush she
smiled that satisfied smile young beautiful women do when they realize theyve been
found attractive by a not-unattractive man. "Im sorry, I didnt mean to disturb you," he
said. "You didnt," she said, stretching languidly with her palms facing out. He stopped
breathing for a moment as he took in the sight of her long, real fingernails from the
underside. The girl yawned, and quickly covered her mouth with her fingers. "Sorry,"
she giggled. He swallowed hard, trying to keep calm. The however-innocent display of
her ten incredibly sexy long nails had him on the verge of hyperventilating.
"Hey, would you mind a lot watching this while I go to the bathroom?" she asked him,
pointing a long, clear nail at her carry-on duffle. He noted that her pointer nails had just a
bit of curvature whereas the rest of her nails were more or less straight. "Sure, no
problem," he said. His voice came out high and squeaky. "You do a great Mickey
Mouse imitation!" she giggled, but seeing his look of embarrassment, bit her lip and said,
"Sorry." He cleared his throat and said in his deepest, manliest voice, "Thats ok." She
smiled and thrust her hand toward him and said, "By the way, Im Jade." "Alan," he
said, taking her small hand with his thumb and two fingers. She shook his hand quickly,
without closing her fingers, like women do who arent afraid to be feminine. He kept a
loose grip on her hand while she withdrew it, so he could feel her long, lovely real nails
as slide through his fingers. She took a couple steps backward before turning away, and
she said, "Back in a flash," finger-waving her long, feminine nails at him. Alan could
still feel the sensation of her nails on his hand. He took his laptop out and put it on his
lap. Thats when he realized how hard he was, and his heart pounded, hoping she hadnt
noticed.
When Jade returned and grabbed the handles of her duffle, Alan said, "Hi," but didnt
look up at her face. "How did you know it was me taking my bag?" she asked. Alan
blushed, his mind raced for a plausible answer that wouldnt involve admitting that he
had recognized her hand by her long fingernails. He caught a whiff of something floral-
scented and looked up at her. "I remembered your perfume," he lied. "Really?" she
smiled, "You can smell it from that far away? I mustve put too much on."
"Oh…uh…no…I didnt mean that…" he stammered. "Actually I just used a dab, right
here," she said holding her hair back as she bent down, pointing her long nail behind her
ear which she held next to Alans nose. Alans lips were almost touching her soft cheek,
his eyes an inch from hers, blue as the ocean, framed by smoky eyeliner and shrouded by
long, thick, heavily-mascarad lashes. And yet it was the up-close sight of her long,
naturally-clear fingernails that made his dick feel like it would burst at any second.
Jade stood up, and Alan tried to recompose himself. "Crap, someone took my seat," she
said looking around to see if there was another empty seat at the gate. Alan suddenly
remembered his laptop case and overcoat were on the next seat, and he quickly cleared
them for her. "Oh…thanks," she said. Alan sighed silently with relief. Hed almost lost
her. "God Im getting hungry," she moaned. "Oh…Ill watch your stuff while you go
get something…and I promise Ill keep your seat this time," Alan said. Jade smiled and
thanked him but shook her head and asked with shock in her voice, "Have you seen how
much they want for food here? I just got laid-off." Alan stood up and put his overcoat on
his chair. "Ive been lucky so far in that respect. So…what would you like? My treat!"
he said. "Oh, no, I couldnt let you do that," she said. "I have an expense account, dont
worry about it," he said. She looked up at the ceiling. "Well…ok, in that case. I
wouldnt mind a slice of pizza and a Grande Iced Mocachino," she said. "Back in a
flash," he said, parroting the expression shed used earlier. Jade gave him a little
flirtatious smile like a hot girl does when a guy wraps himself around her little finger.
Little did she know that in Alans case, he would give anything to spend eternity literally
wrapped around either of her little fingers, just to be close to her pinkie nails which were
her longest at well over an inch.
Alan returned quickly with food and drink, and Jade ate her pizza ravenously. "When
was the last time you ate?" Alan asked with sincere concern. She laughed, "About two
hours ago. People are amazed at how much I need to eat just to keep from wasting
away." "Wish I had that problem," Alan lamented. She looked him up and down, and
her eyes twinkled, "You look like you work out. Am I right?" She reached to squeeze
his bicep, but they both noticed that her hand was greasy from the pizza. Jade giggled
and started licking and sucking her fingers in an attempt to clean them. "This isnt
working," she said looking at her wet fingers and nails. Alan thought to himself, if she
only knew how it was working! He pulled a wad of napkins out of the paper bag and she
grabbed them and dried her hands. Alan finished the last of a small bottle of water, while
Jade sucked on her Grande Iced Mocachino. He was enjoying watching her small hands
with ultra-long nails wrapped around the large paper cup, but she mistakenly thought he
was still thirsty and held it out to him. "Here, I cant finish it," she said. Not wanting to
give away that hed actually been staring at her nails, Alan accepted the drink. He began
to remove the lid when she said softly, "Are you like, disgusted to drink from my straw?"
Alan looked into her smoky-shrouded sky-blue eyes and saw that she wasnt being
facetious, she was actually hurt. "Of course not," he said immediately replacing the lid
and sucking on her straw. Jade smiled and slouched down in her chair. "I once dated this
guy who wouldnt drink from my straw or eat from my fork," she said. Alan laughed, "I
bet he didnt have a problem with you kissing him and getting your saliva in his mouth."
"Or on his dick," she giggled, and quickly put her hand over her mouth while she looked
around at the people within earshot. "Oops," she whispered, and giggled again.
"So, what did you do before you were laid-off?" Alan asked. "I worked for a podiatrist,"
she said. "That sounds interesting," he said. Jade made a dismissive hand gesture. "I
was just a receptionist," she said, "But the good thing was I didnt have to touch
anybodys feet." Alan laughed. She wrinkled-up her perfect little nose. "The only feet I
can stand to touch are mine," she laughed. She looked at her watch. "That reminds
me…" she said, digging through her duffle, "I was going to do it when I got where Im
going, but as long as were stuck here, I might as well polish my toes." Jade took out a
bottle of dark red nail polish and shook it. She scooted up in her chair and kicked off one
shoe and put her bare foot up on her seat. "Ew. Crap. My toenails need cutting and I
keep forgetting were allowed to bring nail clippers on an airplane again. You wouldnt
happen to have a pair on you would you?" she said to Alan. "No, sorry, I…" he started.
"No problem. I figured Id ask coz I dated this guy once who carried one on his
keychain," she said, "Its no big deal. Once I get polish on them nobody will notice how
long they are." Alan was curious and glanced quickly at her foot. She had very pretty
feet with perfectly-shaped toes and toenails. Her toenails all had clear-white ends grown
out perhaps an eighth-inch or a little more. Hed never paid much attention to toenails
before, but suddenly hers excited him. And the sight of her cleaning under them with her
extremely-long pinkie fingernails made his dick throb at full-on hardness.
Jade seemed to be struggling to paint her toenails, and she kept cursing and wiping off
what she was getting on the surrounding skin. "Im totally fucking this up," she sighed.
"Can I hold the bottle for you, or something?" Alan offered. "Huh? No, thats not it.
Im just all thumbs," she said, accenting her remark by wiggling her thumbs at him. Her
thumbnails were almost an inch long and Alans breathing quickened. "Usually I get my
roommate to do my toes for me," she said. Alan thought for a moment. He held out his
upturned palm and glanced toward the bottle of polish. "I dont have anything better to
do," he said. Jade wrinkled-up her nose. "Really? You mean it?" she asked. "Sure, why
not," he said. "Um…have you ever done it before?" she asked hesitantly. "Lots of
times," he smiled confidently. "Fuck! Your wife is so lucky," she said. "What makes
you think Im married?" Alan asked. "The good guys always are," she sighed. "Well, if
thats true then Im not such a good guy," Alan said. Jade just smiled and twirled a
strand of her jet-black hair around her long-nailed fingers. "Here," she said handing him
the bottle of dark red nail polish.
Alan leaned over her awkwardly. "Wait," Jade said and swiveled in her seat. She placed
both feet against his thigh. "Careful, dont spill polish on your pants. Itll never come
out," she warned. Alan began painting Jades right big toenail, carefully and
methodically. The more he concentrated, the more the length of her toenails began
appealing to him. And the more excited he became. Soon it was hard for him to keep his
hands from shaking. "Are you ok?" Jade asked. Alan just nodded and tried not to think
about how much he wanted to stuff all ten of Jades incredibly-sexy toes into his mouth at
once and devour them. "Youre doing great by the way," she said and she grazed the
back of his hand gently with the ends of her very long fingernails. Alan clenched his
teeth to keep from dropping the open bottle of nail polish. "Are you sure youre ok?
Youre perspiring," she said with concern at the beads of sweat on his forehead. Alan
looked up and his eyes met hers, and a look of sudden realization flashed across her face,
then the corners of her mouth upturned in a sly smile. Alan went beet-red. Jades
straight, white teeth gleamed between the tender plumpness of her lips, and her sky-blue
eyes glistened behind the shroud of her smoky shadow and thick, black mascara. The
tiny diamond in the side of her little upturned nose sparkled from the light coming in
through the picture-window overlooking the tarmac. Jade combed back a strand of her
jet-black hair with her stiletto-like pinkie nail and licked her lips. She looked down and
wiggled her toes. "You have a couple more to do," she reminded him. "Huh?
Oh…yeah. Sorry," he said returning to the task of painting her longish toenails. When
he was done, she wiggled her toes and said what a wonderful job hed done, and she
thanked him with a peck on the cheek. Alan tingled from the softness of her lips and the
cooling sensation as the wetness evaporated.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have good news," the gate agent announced over the
loudspeaker, "The aircraft is now ready and the captain is making last-minute checks.
We should be boarding momentarily." "Woooo!" Jade said facetiously, twirling her
long-nailed pointer finger in the air. She looked at Alan and laid her head against his
arm. "Oh God…five hours jammed in a middle seat over the wing. My luck Ill
probably be between two fat people, and since now were flying half the night, theyll
also probably snore," she whined. "Give me your ticket," Alan said. "What for?" she
asked. "Trust me," he said. "Ok. Why not. I trusted you with my toes and that worked
out well," she giggled, flexing her toes with their longish dark-red nails. Jade fished in
her duffle for her ticket and handed the packet to Alan, who got up and went to the gate
counter. Jade could see Alan hand her ticket packet to the gate agent, and a conversation
ensued with lots of smiling, but she couldnt hear what was being said. The gate agent
handed Alan back the ticket packet and Alan returned to Jade and handed her back her
ticket. "I got you upgraded to first class," he said. "No shit?" she cried, "Oh my God,
how did you do that?" "I have my ways," he said raising his eyebrows. "I guess!" she
gushed, "Thanks!" and she put her arms around him and gave him another peck on the
cheek. "Theres a downside," Alan said solemnly, "Youre stuck sitting next to me for
five more hours." Jade smiled. "Thats so not a downside," she said tracing a little circle
on the back of his hand with the tip of her pointer fingernail. Alan swallowed hard and
struggled to keep his composure. He snaked his other hand into his coat pocket and
crumpled the AmEx receipt hed got from paying to upgrade Jades ticket.
It took another hour before all the passengers had boarded. Alan and Jade settled into
their seats in first class. Jade put her iPod earbuds in her ears and brought her legs up
onto the seat, knees bent, bare feet tapping rhythm on the gray leather cushion. Alan took
off his suit jacket and folded it inside-out and placed it in the overhead and he unbuttoned
his sleeves and rolled them up just short of his elbows. The flight attendant took drink
orders, and Alan asked for merlot. Jade declined until Alan informed her that drinks
were free in first class. Her eyes brightened and she asked for vodka. "Im gonna get
buzzed. Care to join me?" she said to Alan, whereupon he changed his order to match
hers and she said, "Yay!" and did a little dance in her seat. By the time the plane took
off, both of them were slightly drunk, and by the time they finished their dinners and
several more rounds of vodka, they were buzzing. Jade rang the call button and asked for
pillows and blankets, which she was pleasantly surprised were quite a bit larger than the
ones used in coach. She put one pillow behind her and patted it with her hand. Alan
looked at her hand, which was inches from him, and he could feel himself harden at the
sight of her incredible long clear-white fingernails. Jade smiled that sly smile of hers and
she said to him, "So, Alan. Tell me about this thing you have for nails." Alan could feel
a hot rush from his feet to his head. He knew he must be red as a tomato, and between
his surprise and sudden embarrassment and the vodka buzzing his brain, he struggled
with thought and words. "I…what? What thing? I dont know what you mean," he
blustered. "Really?" Jade said with obvious cynicism, "Then I suppose you dont care if
I do this…" She slowly and lightly dragged the tips of her long fingernails up the inside
of his arm from his wrist to his elbow, her smoky-shaded sky-blue eyes intent on his face
the entire time. Alans breathing became quick and shallow, his expression a mix of
terror and embarrassment. Jades tender young lips formed a smile of satisfaction, and
she sat back in her seat. "Its ok, Alan. Youre not the first guy who was into my nails,"
she said. "Y-you dont think Im creepy? A freak?" he asked in a clandestine whisper.
"Definitely youre a freak," she giggled, "But not creepy. Not at all."
Jade lifted the armrest and slid close to Alan. She rested her head on his arm. "Obviously
Im into my nails too, or else I wouldnt have them," she said, "I mean, theyre not in
style. I get lots of negative comments from other women. Some guys dont give a shit,
and some even think theyre gross." She held her hands out in front of her, admiring
them. "But every now and then I meet a guy whos into long nails and its like, so
amazing," she said, and she ran her long fingernails gently up and down Alans arm. He
trembled and came close to hyperventilating. "Soooooo amazing," she repeated, stroking
him a little harder, that her nails left white lines on his skin. Alan turned his face to hers
and came closer. She didnt back away and he touched his nose to her cheek. He tilted
his face slightly to one side, and she tilted hers. Their lips brushed lightly, and Alan took
her face in his hands to kiss her. But Jade moved back, fluttering her thick eyelashes, to
his frustrated, pained expression. "I…um…I have a boyfriend," she said with a hint of
guilt. Alan sighed. "I didnt mean to lead you on," she said. "Youre saying you didnt
mean to tease me?" Alan asked. Jade flashed a coquettish smile and gently grasped his
hand with both of hers and brought it to her lips. Softly she kissed the side of his thumb.
"Oh, I so meant to tease you," she said with her smoky-shrouded sky-blue eyes sparkling,
and she took his thumb all the way into her hot, wet mouth and withdrew it slowly,
sucking hard as she did. Alans eyes were like saucers. Jade smiled and then she sucked
his thumb again, but this time she gently scraped the palm of his hand with her very long
thumbnail. "Jesus," Alan gasped. Jade giggled and lightly scratched the back of his
hand. She put her mouth to his ear, bufetting him with her warm breath. Slowly she
licked her tongue around his ear and then she drilled it in and out, steadying the opposite
side of his face with her hand and gently scratching with the tips of her extraordinarily-
long fingernails. "What about your boyfriend?" Alan gasped. Jade made a trail of light
kisses across his cheek to the corner of his mouth. Her tender lips brushed his as she
whispered "What about him?" Alan again moved to kiss her, but again she pulled away.
He sighed in frustration.
Jade swiveled her wrists, turning her hands this way and that. "My nails really are long,
arent they," she mused. She could hear Alans breathing quicken and she cast a
sideways glance at him to observe his reaction. Jades heavily-made-up blue eyes
sparkled when she saw the flustered look on his face. "This is like the longest theyve
ever been," she said. Alan smiled nervously. "Oh wait, thats a lie," she said turning to
him. Beads of sweat were formed on his brow. "When I was a freshman in high school I
let them grow gargantuanly long," she gushed, "I was trying to see how long they would
grow. I remember measuring them at like, four and a quarter inches! Needless to say,
everyone thought I was a total freakazoid." "I wouldnt have," Alan said quietly. She
rested her hands on Alans arm and smiled at him, "Oh well, I couldnt function with
them that long anyway. I was afraid Id bend one back and rip it out of my finger. So I
cut them back to like they are now. Theyre super sexy at this length, dont you think?"
Jade moved her fingers slowly, curving and straightening them in Alans view, fascinated
by the look of uncontrollable desire in his eyes.
The cabin lights went off, leaving only a few of the overhead reading lights. One by one
those too were switched off as the other passengers drifted off to sleep. Jade unbuttoned
Alans shirt and began scratching her fingernails lightly over his chest. She rested her
chin against his neck and nibbled his earlobe between her teeth. "Have you ever had a
girl scratch you really hard? I mean like, till there was blood?" she asked.
"Occasionally…mostly by accident," he responded. "So youre not really into it?" she
asked. "Not really," Alan said. Jade rested her face against his bare chest. "I dont think
I could scratch someone really hard," she said, "Well, I suppose I could if he was raping
me or something." "Lets hope you never have to find out," Alan said. "All my nails
would probably break," she observed. "That would be a real tragedy," Alan said.
"Worse than being raped?" she asked with astonishment. "Wait…no! Thats not what I
meant!" Alan added hastily. Jade smiled and said, "Relax. I was only messing with you."
Alan caressed her face and leaned in to kiss her, but she put her fingers on his lips.
"Alan," she whined, "I told you: I have a boyfriend." Alan was baffled, because even as
she said it she had her hand on his bare stomach playing a long nail around inside his
navel, and suddenly she stroked her very long pinkie nail across the tent in his pants.
Alan gasped and grabbed her hand. "Dont you want me to?" she asked innocently. "Of
course I do," he said. "Then why did you stop me?" she asked with equal innocence.
"Because youre driving me wild," he said. "So?" she said. "So…then you wont even
let me kiss you, and you tell me you have a boyfriend," he whined. "I do have a
boyfriend, Im not going to lie," she said. "Im totally confused," Alan sighed with a
shake of his head. "Ill try to clear things up for you," she grinned. Jade snuggled up to
him and brought her knee up on his chest while she stroked his shoulder with her
fingernails. He sighed and closed his eyes.
Suddenly Alan opened his eyes because he felt pressure on his crotch. He looked down
and it was Jades bare foot. She spread and wiggled her toes. "You did an amazing job
polishing my toes. Did I thank you?" she asked. "Yes, you did," Alan replied. "I meant,
really thanked you," she said softly, and she started rubbing with her foot. "What are you
doing?" he gasped. "What does it feel like Im doing?" she said. "What if the flight
attendant walks by?" he asked. Jade covered them with a blanket. "There," she said,
"Except now you cant see. And I really wanted you to watch. I have very talented feet."
Alan began panting. Jade put her lips to his ear and sang softly, "This is the way she rubs
his cock, rubs his cock, rubs his cock. This is the way she rubs his cock, with her lit-tle
foot." Then she burrowed her foot inside his pants, digging under his boxers until she
found his dick, and she began pressing and rubbing it with her warm toes. She sang into
his ear, "This is the way she jerks him off, jerks him off, jerks him off. This is the way
she jerks him off, with her sex-y toes." Alan was sweating profusely and trying not to
make any noise that would attract attention. Jade smiled at him and said, "I have
amazing toes, dont I!" She rubbed faster, tightening and flexing her toes. Alan flinched.
"Sorry. I forgot how long my toenails are," she said, but she didnt stop. In fact she
rubbed furiously, and even the scraping of her sharp toenails was becoming unbelievably
erotic to Alan. Jade sang softly, "Her toes on his cock go round and round, round and
round, round and round. Her toes on his cock go round and round, till he shoots his
load…" Alan boiled over and erupted like a volcano. Jade shook with silent giggles.
"Shit!" he gasped, trying to catch his breath. "I take it you like my singing," she giggled
into his ear, playfully scratching his cheek with the tip of her long pointer-finger nail.
Jade took her foot out of Alans pants. The tops of her toes glistened with his jizz, and
there were strings of it between her toes when she spread them. "Sorry," Alan said.
"Why?" she asked, and she brought her foot to her mouth and slowly licked and sucked
her toes clean, all the while fixing her eyes on Alans, enjoying what her display was
doing to him. "Im all sticky inside my pants!" Alan exclaimed in a whisper, looking
around for something to wipe himself with. "Dont worry, Ill clean you up," Jade
whispered, and in an instant she ducked under the blanket and Alan felt her mouth on his
cock, licking and sucking him. He quickly began getting hard again, and Jade popped her
head out from under the blanket. "Almost clean," she winked, and then disappeared back
under the blanket. Alan looked around hoping nobody was looking, and he gently put his
hands on her shoulders. She put her hands on his and began scratching them slowly with
the tips of her incredibly feminine long fingernails while she continued blowing him, and
in moments he came again. Jade popped her head out from under the blanket and opened
her mouth to show him her tongue covered with his jizz, before she swallowed and licked
her lips. "Still want to kiss me?" she giggled. Alan lunged at her. "Oh my God!" Jade
laughed, holding him at bay cupping his face in both hands, "You really want me bad,
dont you!" Alan nodded frantically. "Poor baby," she said with a pouty lip.
Jade got up. "Where are you going?" Alan asked. "Nowhere," she said, and drew the
privacy curtains around their seats. She straddled Alans lap on her knees, and kissed his
neck. First one side, then the other. Then she kissed his chin while she stroked the sides
of his neck with her long thumbnails. "Youre not tired are you?" she asked. "No,
but…you got me off twice. I might not be able to get it up again for a while," he said
apologetically. "No?" she said, flashing her very long fingernails before his eyes. She
gently scratched them down his cheeks, feeling him start to breathe heavily under her.
"Not even for my nails? My loooonnnggg, looooonnnnggggg nails?" she asked in a sultry
whisper. She kissed his neck again, and ran her nails over his chest and around his back
and up and across his shoulders, all the time slowly gyrating her crotch against his. Jade
traced her lips across his lips quickly to the other side of his neck, kissed it, and then went
back across his lips the other way. "Please!" Alan begged her. "No. I cant kiss another
guy when Im still in a relationship with someone else," she said. "But you just gave me
a blow job!" he whispered. "I dont expect you to understand, just respect me. Ok?" she
said. Alan sighed and shrugged, "Sure." "Thank you," she said, and she slid off his lap.
"Hey, Im sorry. I didnt mean to piss you off," Alan said, trying to pull her back. "Im
not pissed off," she said, and she pulled her tattered jeans down and stepped out of them
and then straddled his lap again. "Where were we?" she asked with a smile, and she
caressed his back with her warm fingers and scratched gently with her long fingernails
while she left kisses from his shoulder to his neck. "Oh yeah, I remember," she said and
began nibbling and sucking one of his nipples. Alan put his arms around her and felt her
warmth. Jade sat up and slipped her top off and whispered, "Undo my bra." Alan
complied, and she cupped her breasts and gave them a little bounce. "You like?" she
asked with a smile. Alan nodded. She took his hands and put them against her nipples,
which hardened immediately. "Show me how much," she said.
Alan fondled Jades breasts and she closed her eyes and sighed. Then she put her hands
inside her panties and fingered herself. "Let me," Alan said. Jade shook her head. "Oh,
right. Your boyfriend?" he said with a hint of disdain. Jade opened her eyes. "No, its
not that. I think I mustve spoiled myself ," she said, "Without nails its just not as good
for me." She saw the look of dejection on Alans face and she smiled her sly smile and
offered, "You can watch." She pulled her panties down and leaned back. Alan watched
her slender fingers with long clear glistening-wet nails move deftly in and out of her
pussy. She breathed deeply, eyes half-closed, rolling her head around slowly, licking her
lips, lost in bliss. Jade drew a sharp breath and held it, and Alan felt her tighten every
muscle in her body. In a few moments she relaxed and exhaled and opened her eyes and
smiled dreamily. Jade withdrew her hands from her pussy and brought them to her
mouth. Slowly she inserted four fingers into her mouth and just as slowly sucked them.
"Mmmph?" she mumbled with the rising intonation of a question, offering her other hand
to Alan. He nodded excitedly and slowly sucked and licked her fingers and very long
fingernails. She closed her other hand around his dick, and they both looked down. It
was only partway hard, although he was filled with lusty desire. She met his look of
embarrassment and frustration with an impish smile and a wink, and she reached down
and with two fingers spread her pussy and exposed her hard little bud. Holding Alans
semi-rigid dick in her other hand she gave his cock-head a tantalizingly-gentle stroking
with the edge of her very long thumbnail while she rubbed his pee-hole lightly around
and around against her clit. Alan began to pant, and Jades breathing grew deeper. Even
though his dick never got fully erect, he came as hard has hed ever cum, at almost the
same moment as her. She collapsed against him, breathing quickly. Alan looked at her
and she smiled. "Youre incredible," he said, brushing back a strand of hair from her
face, and he began to move his lips toward her, but she turned her head down.
Jade took his hand, inverted it, and lazily scratched her long nails across his palm.
"Arent you tired?" Alan asked, equally exhausted as frustrated. "No," she said with her
sly smile, watching his eyes get big and his breathing grow ragged, "Why? Are you?"
Lying against him, Jade raised her knee to his shoulder and rested her warm foot on his
thigh and curled her toenails into him. The feeling of their sharp pricking and the aroma
of her pussy wafting up to his nostrils, along with her stroking her fingernails over his
palm was driving him mad. His dick longed for her touch but it remained soft. "Id like
to play some more," she said, dancing her long-nailed fingers seductively before his eyes,
"But if you really dont want to…" "I do want to!" he pleaded, "I just dont think I can
anymore tonight." "Just relax then," Jade said sweetly, "No pressure. Really." She held
her hands toward him, first with her palms away, and then facing. "Tell me what you like
most about my nails," she said. "Everything!" Alan said quickly. "What about them
turns you on the most?" she asked, "Is it…how looooong they are?" Alan nodded, "That,
and also how nice theyre shaped." Jade smiled and admired her nails. "Yeah, they are
shaped nice. So are my toenails, dont you think?" she asked, stretching her leg and
spreading her toes. "Very much," Alan said. Jade retracted her foot and curled her
toenails into his thigh again. "That doesnt hurt, does it?" she asked. Alan shook his
head. "Good. Coz I know my toenails are pretty long right now, but I like grabbing
things with my toes," she said. "Its fine, really," Alan said. "Only fine?" she asked, and
she curled her toenails into the inside of his thigh, up near his crotch, "How about now?
Is that more than fine?" Alans nostrils flared and he breathed heavily and nodded
quickly. Jade smiled brightly. She held her hands in front of them. "Do you have a
favorite nail of mine?" she asked. "I…I dont know, I…" Alan stammered. "How about
my pointer nails? Isnt it sexy how they curve more than the others?" she asked. Alan
nodded. "Like cats claws," she said and scratched her pointer nail across the back of his
hand just hard enough to leave a white line. Alan whimpered softly. "Arent my
thumbnails to die for!" she exclaimed bending and unbending her thumbs. Alan stared at
her inch-long thumbnails and licked his lips. "Theyre really strong. I can open soda
cans and stuff and they never break," Jade informed him. Alan grinned stupidly and
nodded. "My personal favorites are my pinkie nails," Jade whispered, extending her
pinkies elegantly. "Theyre amazingly long ," she mused, "And so straight." She touched
his dick with her foot, and she smiled and said, "Umm!" as she discovered to her pleasure
that it was getting harder.
Jade grasped his hardening cock between her toes and reached down with one hand. She
curled her fingers around his dick and rubbed the rim of his cock head with the edge of
her long thumbnail, and in seconds she had him fully erect. She squeezed his cock and
the head got huge and his pee-hole opened wide. "My pinkie nails are really narrow,
too" she said, smiling wickedly. "Wait, what are you going to…" Alans words choked
off into a pleasured gasp when she traced the tip of her pinkie nail slowly around and
around his cock head, getting closer and closer to his pee-hole. Then he felt it touch just
inside the opening. "N-no!" he gasped. "Just trust me," she said, "And whatever you do,
hold still!" Alan watched in terror as she slowly inserted all one and a half inches of her
pinkie nail into his pee-hole. But instead of the pain he was expecting, the sensation was
unbelievably pleasurable. Gently and slowly Jade slid her long, straight pinkie nail in
and out, in and out, turning slightly so it touched him everywhere inside. "Oh my God!"
Alan wheezed. Between her fingers curled around the outside of his cock, her thumbnail
stroking the head, and her pinkie nail sliding in and out of his pee-hole, she was driving
him very quickly toward cumming, and his dick began to throb. Jade slid her pinkie all
the way out and stopped stroking with her thumbnail. Alan looked at her desperately. "I
was afraid you were going to stab yourself on my nail," she explained. "But…but…"
Alan gasped. "I can do that thing again where I rub your dick on my clit," she offered,
kneeling over his lap. Beside himself with desire, Alan cupped Jades tight little ass and
tried to enter her. "Whoa!" she exclaimed in a whisper, "Alan, if I wont kiss you while I
have a boyfriend, I sure wont fuck you!" Alans face looked like he was about to
explode. "So…please can I do the thing with your cock on my clit?" Jade asked, and she
leaned and licked his ear and whispered, "I reeeeealllllly need to cum." Alan sighed, and
she gave him a peck on the cheek and said, "Thanks."
Just about the time they were both cumming, the call bell dinged, and the flight attendant
announced their descent for landing. Jade quickly found her panties and bra and
hurriedly dressed herself, while Alan pulled up his boxers and pants and buttoned his
shirt. As they sat upright in their own seats with their seat belts on, waiting for the plane
to touch down, Jade fished under the seat with her feet and found her shoes. She rested
her hand on top of Alans and scratched softly with her long fingernails. When he turned
to her with that familiar look of desire, she stretched her foot in front of him and spread
her toes. "Take a last look at my beautiful toenails that you polished for me," she smiled,
and then she stuffed her feet into her shoes. Jade quickly touched-up her heavy eye
makeup, and Alan stared at her fingernails, trying to memorize them. He knew it would
soon be his last look at them, and at Jade. "Do you need a ride from the airport? My
office is sending a limo for me," Alan asked her, hopeful of perhaps spending a little
more time with her. "Oh, thats sweet, but, um…my boyfriend is picking me up," she
said. "Oh. Ok," Alan said. "How long are you in town for?" she asked. Alan sighed,
"Just for the meeting and dinner with the clients, and then Im flying to Paris tonight on
the red-eye." "Oh, wow!" Jade said, "Ive always wanted to go there." "Grab your
passport and meet me back here tonight," Alan pleaded. Jade lowered her eyes. "Its not
that simple," she said softly. Alan and Jade smiled awkwardly at one another. "You and
your boyfriend…is it…serious?" Alan asked. Jade shrugged her delicate shoulders.
"Hes nice. Hes not into my nails like you are though. Ive never met anyone before
who was that much into them," she smiled. "Jade, I…" Alan began. "Lets not make this
into a big scene, ok?" Jade stopped him. "Ok," Alan agreed. Jade gave him a quick
stroke of her nails on his cheek and said, "Bye." And she hurried out the door and
disappeared down the jetway. Alan saw Jade once more, from a ways off at baggage
claim. A burly young guy with a goatee and wearing a tank top, his muscular arms
covered with colorful tattoos grabbed Jades suitcase off the carousel and wheeled it
behind him as they walked to the glass doors, his hand on her ass and hers on his. From
forty feet off Alan could still see her extraordinarily-long shiny clear fingernails, and he
felt his dick stir even as he watched her vanish into the crowd.
That evening Alan sat at the gate waiting to board the red-eye for Paris. He looked
around at the other waiting passengers. There were a few attractive women traveling
alone, but a quick glance at their hands with stylishly-short nails and Alan felt deeply
depressed. Jade had been one in a million. He told himself to be grateful hed had that
one magical night, and would always have the memory of her nails and how naturally she
used them to seduce and pleasure him. Alan rested his head in his hands and sobbed
silently for a long time, until he felt the presence of someone sit in the empty seat next to
him. He felt a hand on his back and a female voice said, "Hey. You ok?" Alan lifted his
head, wiping his eyes. "Jade?" he cried, seeing her. She smiled. "You came to say
goodbye?" he asked. She shook her head and flashed a little booklet in his face. He
looked puzzled, and she realized her long fingernails were covering it up, so she spread
her fingers and Alan saw that she was holding her passport. Alan swallowed hard and his
heart began to pound. "I…Im confused," he said. "Maybe this will help to clear things
up for you," Jade said, and as she scratched the back of his neck slowly with her long,
sexy fingernails she parted her moist, tender lips and gave him the longest, hottest, most
electrifying kiss of his life.
-
The Group
The Group…by Stryker
Eight metal folding chairs were arranged in a circle in a bare and uninviting room in a
municipal building. Against the wall in a corner stood a small folding banquet table with
a basket of chocolate-chip cookies and an open box of donuts, and a small electric urn
that filled the room with the pungent aroma of hot coffee. Four men and two
women sat bolt-upright, fidgeting and uncomfortable, their eyes darting in any which
direction to avoid looking at each other, but stopped frequently on the two empty chairs.
No one spoke. Finally the door opened and a stocky gray-haired man in his fifties
walked in carrying a notebook under one arm. "Sorry Im a little late," he apologized,
leaning back out the door to usher a young woman into the room. "We have a new
member. Lets all give her a warm welcome," he said, escorting her to one of the empty
chairs. She was perhaps thirty, with long blond hair pulled up in a tight ponytail. Tall
and slender, she was wearing a long skirt that came almost to the floor, revealing just a
bit of her platform wedge shoes as she walked slowly to her chair and sat down formally
with her knees together and her hands in her lap under a large Louis Vuitton purse, and
her head bowed.
"Lets all re-introduce ourselves," the gray haired man said after hed taken the seat next
to her, "Ill start. Im Dr. Madsen, but I prefer just Dave. Im the facilitator of our
therapy group." He looked to his right at a good-looking thirtysomething man wearing a
pinstriped dress shirt. "Im Pete," he said. "Tom. How ya doin?" said the man next to
Pete, who was in his forties, slightly pudgy and balding, and wearing a Denver Broncos
sweatshirt. "Maggie," said the woman next to him, also in her early forties but quite
pretty in a natural-looking way, with short dark hair. "My names Elise," said the other
female group member, a pixie-ish twentysomething with long red hair who sat next to
Maggie. Finally the last member introduced himself. "Im Robbie," said a slightly-built,
bespectacled young man in his early twenties. Dave, the facilitator, turned to the young
woman hed brought into the room. Self-consciously, the young woman raised her head
and smiled nervously as the others stared at her with wide eyes. Unlike the rest of them
who were more or less average-looking, she was stunningly beautiful. Drop-dead
gorgeous in fact. "Hi, Im Corinne," she said in a soft, syrupy voice. "Hi, Corinne," the
others said in unison. Quickly Corinne added, "Oh, was I supposed to say And Im a sex
addict?"
The others laughed quietly, and Dave interjected, "Usually we dont push a new member
to say it right away, but its great that you can. Isnt it, group?" The rest all nodded and
mumbled affirmations. "And Corinne, if you feel up to it, wed all love to hear your
story," Dave said. She blushed slightly. "Its ok if you dont want to share tonight,"
Dave assured her. "No, its fine," Corinne said, her voice still syrupy but stronger and
with a note of eagerness, "Actually Id kind of like to. If its ok with everyone." One by
one she looked into the eyes of the other group members until each had smiled or nodded.
"Ok then," Corinne said, laying her purse on the floor, "Lets see, where should I begin?"
She placed her hands together prayer-like. A chorus of muted gasps escaped the lips of
the others. Corinne smiled, and she leaned forward in her chair and held her hands out at
arms length. "To answer the question everybody always wants to know: Yes, they are
real," she said, displaying a set of ten exquisitely-shaped clear-polished fingernails nearly
two inches long.
"A bad day for me is when I only have sex with one person," Corrine said, her eyes
darting from one group member to the next to assess their immediate reaction to her
statement. "Im attracted to almost everyone, young or old, short or tall," she continued,
looking in turn at each of the men. "Male or female," she added, staring at Maggie and
Elise, who glanced at each other nervously for a split-second. Corinne went on, "I know
its not normal to be like I am, that its an addiction." Dave, the therapist, interrupted her,
"Admitting it is a good start, Corinne. Its the first step toward the day when you will be
free of the compulsion, and able to truly enjoy sex." "Thats the thing," Corinne said, "I
do enjoy it. Every delicious, sensual moment of it. Every…touch," she said, gracefully
stroking her two-inch fingernails across her breasts. She sighed and wet her lips and
continued, "For me, sex starts from the first instant our eyes meet and lasts to the final
moment when I walk out the door, seeing their look of sadness and longing, wanting
more of me but too exhausted even to speak." Pete, the best-looking of the male
members laughed and said, "Wow, you certainly have an exalted opinion of yourself
dont you." A smirk crept across Corinnes beautiful face. Maggie turned to Pete and
said, "Apologize to her, you dickhead!" "Its ok," Corinne said softly, and she looked
into Petes eyes, "I understand. Hes just trying to talk himself out of wanting to fuck
me. Isnt that right?" Pete turned red and narrowed his eyes. "Answer her!" Maggie
snapped. "Go ahead, Pete, I think you should respond honestly to Corinne," Dave
coached. "Looks like he already is," laughed Tom, the pudgy one in the Broncos
sweatshirt, and everyones eyes went to Petes lap and the large tent in his pants.
"I think we should move on, and let someone else have a turn," Dave said. Corinne
undid her ponytail and shook her long blond hair loose, then swept it off her face with a
toss of her head and a whisk of her breathtakingly-long fingernails. She stared into
Daves eyes and said, "I say theyd like me to continue." It was a pivotal moment, a
power-play for control. A chorus of affirmation rose from the others. Dave looked away
from Corinnes piercing ice-gray eyes. The corners of her full, sexy lips upturned in a
subtle smile of triumph. The group now belonged to her. She sat back in her chair and
crossed her legs gracefully. Her long skirt was slit up the side and revealed her long,
silky, tanned legs in all their perfect feminine splendor. Stunned gasps arose from the
others, their eyes wide. Her skirt had until then covered all but the thick soles of her
platform wedges. Revealed now were Corinnes feet and toenails, an inch long on her
big toes and half an inch on the rest, and like her fingernails, clear-polished and
exquisitely feminine.
Tom, the pudgy 40-ish man in the sweatshirt, snorted, "Last time I seen claws like that on
feet it was on a bear." Corinne laughed. She slipped one foot out of her shoe and held
her sexy leg out at him, swiveling her foot and spreading and flexing her toes. "Guys go
wild when I scratch their ass and all up and down the back of their legs while were
fucking," she said looking into his eyes, "I bet you wouldnt last ten seconds." Toms
pudgy face reddened and sweat beaded on his furrowed brow. Corrine smiled, curled her
toes and raked her extremely-long toenails slowly against the tile floor, and said, "We
could try a little experiment…" Tom swallowed hard and coughed. "I think all your
nails are fierce!" the young girl Elise interrupted. Corinne smiled at her and said
breathily, "Id love to run them through that gorgeous red hair of yours. Fingers…and
toes." Elise gaped, blushed, and then quickly looked down into her lap. "Im sorry if I
embarrassed you," Corinne said. Dave interjected, trying to regain control of his group,
"Were here to be honest. Sometimes things are said that are embarrassing or even
hurtful. What matters is that we learn from them." "Ok," Corinne said, "Then…Elise,
what Id really like is to run my nails through your gorgeous red hair while were naked
and fucking." A look of terror came over Elise. "Look, Corinne…no offense, but Im
like, totally, totally straight!" she cried. Corinne laughed, "Thats what you say now.
Give me twenty minutes alone with you." "Stop it," Maggie scolded, "Just because
youre bi doesnt mean she is." "How do you know she isnt?" Corinne asked, "In fact,
how do you know you arent? Have you ever done it with a woman?" Maggie was
silent. "Maybe the reason you have to fuck every man in sight is because youre trying to
deny your attraction to other women," Corinne suggested. "Really?" Maggie countered,
"You fuck women and yet you still need to fuck every man you meet." She sat back with
her arms folded, satisfied with her logic. "Life would be so simple if we were all the
same…and so boring," Corinne replied with a smile, and watched the smugness drain
from Maggies face, "Now may I continue?"
Without waiting for acknowledgment, Corinne began to speak, in a soft, slow, sexy
voice. As she spoke she gestured with graceful flourishes of her hands, transfixing the
others eyes on her unbelievably-long two-inch natural fingernails. Combined with the
gentle timbre of her voice, she had them enraptured. She related:
"I was a beautiful child. Startlingly beautiful. Even in kindergarten, boys fought
each other for my attention. Girls burned with envy, but at the same time they all
wanted to be near me. It was as if they hoped my beauty would rub off on them.
I was always the teachers pet. I could get away with anything…and I did. But
although I had many admirers, I had no real friends. While the other kids had
friends over, for parties and sleepovers, I spent my time at home alone in my
room, mostly daydreaming. I longed for friends, and I longed to spend time with
my father whom I adored. But he traveled on business, and when he came home
he and my mother fought constantly. One warm June day when I was seven, he
left and never came home again.
My mother tried to be my best friend, mainly because she needed a best-friend
more than a child. She did my hair in a grownup style, and let me wear makeup
around the house. When my fingernails needing cutting, my mother instead
offered to file them and paint them, and by summers end my nails were as long
from fingertip to end as they were from fingertip to cuticle. I spent hours adoring
them, looking at them in my mirror, tapping them on the glass. I would stroke my
stuffed animals with them, and sometimes my own arms and legs. It would make
me shiver, and I longed to do it to someone else, to see their reaction. My mother
would let me scratch her back, and she would scratch mine. I was in love with
my long fingernails. But then school started in the fall, and my mother said Id
have to cut them. I screamed and cried, but it was no use. I still remember when
it was over, staring at the stubs on my fingers and the long pieces of my nails
lying in the sink, feeling as if someone had amputated a part of me. I sobbed
hysterically for hours. I told my mother I hated her. She ignored me. I told her I
would run away. She used reverse-psychology and offered to help me pack. I
stared her in the eyes and very calmly said I blamed her for making my daddy
leave home, and I went to my room while she burst into tears. My mother never
made me cut my nails again. In fact she never made me do anything I didnt want
to. I owned her from that moment on. Many times in the years that followed, my
mother was called to school because of my nails, and she always stood up for me.
Teachers constantly complained about my nails. They claimed they were
dangerous to me and others, but of course with the women teachers it was pure
jealousy, because my nails were longer and more beautiful than theirs, and with
the men teachers, at least the straight ones, it was the stress of having to
constantly resist the male instinct to become aroused by the sight of long, sexy
feminine nails. I didnt understand about that at the time, but I did notice how
they watched my nails and would become all flustered, and I quickly understood
that I had some kind of strong power over them. Which I exploited mercilessly
for my amusement."
Dave the leader attempted to interject and take the floor back from Corinne, but she cast
him an icy stare with her eyes narrowed to slits, and the others shouted Dave down and
insisted he let Corinne continue. He sighed and gave in, knowing that his only chance of
regaining control of his group was to let her finish. Corinne smiled wickedly and
resumed:
"Actually, they were right that my nails were dangerous. I hadnt considered
using them as weapons, but one day I asked a boy to carry my heavy book bag
and he refused. That made me angry and I reacted by clawing his arms with my
long fingernails. All I saw was white lines at first. Then in a second they turned
red and started to bleed. I was scared, not because of what Id done---actually I
got a rush from it---but of getting punished. But as soon as the teacher came up, I
made myself cry, and she comforted me and accused the boy of provoking me.
Thats when I realized that I could get away with anything I wanted. I was
untouchable. From then until the end of high school I was feared by one and all.
Everyone would do whatever I told them. Power is an indescribably wonderful
feeling.
I started liking boys in my early teens, and I discovered that I could get any boy I
wanted. Most boys succumbed easily to my incredible beauty, but if his response
wasnt instantaneous enough, I simply stroked him with my long nails and his
knees went weak like jello. My favorite sport was walking up to another girl who
was with her boyfriend, and making him mine with just a look and the touch of
my nails. I knew even then that I was into quantity rather than quality, but
occasionally I became the recipient of unwanted attention by some truly gross-
looking boy. In which case he became the recipient of a swift rake of my nails.
By the time I was in high school I realized I was attracted to girls as well. Pretty
girls, feminine girls. Most of them were straight, but it wasnt a problem. At that
age they were easy for me to manipulate and intimidate into making out with me.
While high-school is torture for lots of kids, it was ecstasy for me. In my senior
year there was this teacher, Mr. Perry. He was gorgeous. He was married. He
tried all year to resist me. Even when I pretended to accidentally touch him with
my long, sexy fingernails, and I knew he was bursting with desire, he managed to
resist giving in. Then one day, it was in March, I was in his study hall and absent-
mindedly kicked my shoes off. I hadnt bothered to cut my toenails since about
November because nobody was going to see them in the winter. At first I was
embarrassed when I saw him looking at my feet, but one look at the lust boiling in
his eyes and I knew Id found his weakness. From then on I started wearing my
toenails very long. But the funny thing was, I expected to feel so satisfied after I
did it with Mr. Perry, and yet, I just felt empty and restless. I think thats when I
first suspected maybe I had a problem."
Dave smiled, because he saw his chance to take charge again. "Thank you, Corinne.
That was a wonderful revelation. I want you to know that were going to help you. Me,
and the rest of the group. Were here to help each other," he said compassionately.
Corinne gave him a naughty smile and a wink. She stood up slowly and opened her
arms. She commanded breathily, "Someone kiss me." The three men jumped to their
feet knocking over their chairs as they scrambled to get to Corinne. Pete, the biggest and
best-looking, shoved and elbowed the other men out of the way and reached Corinne
first. She ran the fingers of one hand through his hair and cupped his face with her other
hand, holding him at bay with his lips pursed close to hers. She turned to Dave and
laughed, "Darwins natural selection at work, eh?" Dave rushed to separate them.
Corinne turned to him with a hateful stare, her arm outstretched toward him with fingers
curled menacingly, poised to strike with her sharp two-inch nails. With a look of terror
on his ashen face, Dave halted dead in his tracks. "Smart choice," Corinne said, and
plunged her tongue into Petes open mouth.
The kiss lasted a full minute. The others watched transfixed as Corinne stroked Petes
back with her amazingly long fingernails, listening to the sharp sound they made across
the fabric of his shirt, hearing Petes muffled moans. When Corinne finally pushed Pete
away he dropped to his knees heaving for breath, and the others were breathing heavily as
well. Corinne smiled triumphantly at Dave, and she turned and walked back to her chair.
"I think we need to stop for tonight," Dave said trying to hide his panic. "I think not,"
Corinne snapped, and instead of sitting down she walked over to Elise, the young girl.
Elise lowered her head, as if she hoped it could make her invisible. Corinne brushed
back Elises long red hair with a two-inch thumbnail and gently lifted the girls chin with
one finger of her other hand. "Stand up," Corinne commanded, softly but with supreme
authority. Elise timidly rose to her feet. The young girl was a head shorter, and Corinne
lifted Elises chin so their eyes met. "No…please…dont," Elise whimpered. "Stop!"
cried Robbie, the slightly-built young man, rising to Elises defense. Corinne caught him
by his neck and shoved him back down into his chair, leaving five bleeding scratches as
she let go of him. "Chivalry is so overrated," she laughed as he patted his wounds and
stared at the blood on his hand. "Who the fuck do you think you are, bitch?" said Tom,
the stocky, balding man in the Broncos sweatshirt, jumping to his feet. "I think Im the
bitch who will rip your face off," she replied with mock sweetness, slowly forming her
hand into a claw shape. "Now sit down," she ordered harshly. Red-faced, Tom sat down
and folded his arms. Corinne tossed her hair and turned back to Elise smiling. Elises
eyes were filled with tears and terror, and her body trembled. Corinne stroked the young
womans face with her dangerously sharp two-inch fingernails and whispered, "I bet you
taste as sweet as you look." With that Corinne licked Elise very slowly from the base of
her throat up under her chin and onto her lips, where she enveloped the young girls
mouth and penetrated it with her hot tongue.
At once terrified and completely turned-on, the other group members watched in silent
fascination as Corinne deep-kissed Elise, gently stroking her back with those deadly two-
inch fingernails. At the same time, unmoved by the young womans muffled squeals of
protest, Corinne trailed her very long toenails up and down the back of the little red-
heads legs until they were covered with thin pink lines. Still engulfing Elises mouth
and probing deep inside with her tongue, Corinne raised the young womans skirt from
behind. Muted gasps arose from the other group members as they watched Corinne slip
her two-inch thumbnail under Elises thong and pull it down, then spread her hand, grasp
the young girls tight asscheeks and lift her several inches off the ground. Her arms and
legs dangling, Elise suddenly began to shake like a rag doll, and did so for several
seconds before she went limp. Corinne set her gently in Maggies lap where the startled
40-ish woman had no choice but to hold her to keep the semi-conscious young girl from
falling. Maggie gaped at Corinne, who grinned and said, "I can make a woman cum just
by kissing her." And she stroked Maggies one cheek with her nails and planted a soft
kiss at the corner of her mouth. At that Maggie let Elise slip off her lap into a heap on the
floor and accepted Corinnes tongue into her mouth. Maggies moans crescendoed until
she collapsed panting and limp in her chair.
Corinne unfastened her long skirt and let it drop to the floor. She stepped over it and sat
down on her chair. While she took off her top and bra she asked casually, "Whos going
to do me first?" Maggie screamed and jumped to her feet. "Come on," she said to Elise,
helping the young woman to her feet, and the two of them dashed to the door and
slammed it behind them. Dave the group therapist rushed over and picked up Corinnes
clothing and shoved it at her. "Put your clothes back on, and I want you to leave. Now!"
he barked. Corinne pouted. She turned to the three male group members, all of whom
had obvious tents in their pants, and said, "Are you going to let him spoil our party?"
Tom and Pete, the two most aggressive men, cried in unison, "Hell no!" and started for
Dave. Dave put his hands up in defense and backed away, saying, "Tom! Pete! Youve
both worked so hard and progressed so nicely. This will undo all youve achieved. Try
to focus and get control of yourselves!" Corinne began fondling her large, firm breasts
with one hand and she moaned, "Im so horny! I need someones dick inside me!" The
mens nostrils flared and they began to pant. Dave cried out desperately, "Gentlemen!
Think of this as a test. You can resist! You can! I know you can!" Robbie felt at his
sore neck where Corinne had clawed him, he looked at her and then at Dave, and he
jumped up and bolted from the room. "Thats good Robbie!" Dave shouted, and he
turned to Tom and Pete and said, "You can do it too! Go! Run!" Corinne laughed and
leaned back in her chair and slipped off her thong, and she spread her legs. Pete and Tom
gaped at her wet, glistening pussy and she began to finger herself. The sight of her two-
inch clear-polished fingernails spreading her pussy lips and slipping in and out sent them
into a frenzy. They grabbed Dave and slammed him down onto a chair. He struggled,
but Tom, stocky and muscular, held him down firmly. "You go first, Pete," he said,
acquiescing to the younger, better-looking man. "Thanks man," Pete said unbuckling his
belt and opening his shirt.
"Wait," Corinne said to Pete, "I feel like sharpening my claws a little first. It makes me
so much hornier." She looked at Tom pinning Dave to his chair. "Take his shirt off and
bring him over here," she ordered. Tom looked alarmed and unsure what to do, and Dave
looked at him with terror in his eyes. "Come on Corinne, lets just fuck, ok?" Pete said,
pulling his boxers down and coming toward her with a full-on erection. As he neared
Corinne she lashed out with her foot and in one fast move raked her very long toenails
harshly down his chest and stomach, just barely missing his cock and continuing down
his thigh. "Shit!" Pete screamed feeling the burn hit his brain while five long white lines
down his entire body turned red and bled. "I said wait," Corinne said with remorseless
calm, "Now help Tom bring Dave over to me." Pete and Tom lugged the struggling
therapist to where Corinne sat nude, licking her lips and flaring her nostrils in lustful
anticipation. She gestured downward and the two men forced Dave to his knees.
Corinne grasped Daves head with both hands and forced him to look into her steely gray
eyes. She smiled, a terrifyingly evil smile, and she licked his cheek gently. "Mmmm,"
she murmured, and licked him again. "Mmmmmm!" she said louder, smacking her lips.
Then she put her lips to his face, opened her mouth and took his cheek between her teeth
and bit slowly, harder and harder until Dave was crying out in pain. "Hey…uh…look,
Corinne, this is getting really weird," she heard Tom say, but she cast him up a slit-eyed
stare and he quickly turned his eyes away and reinforced his grip on Dave. She closed
her eyes and continued biting while she placed the tips of her sharp two-inch thumbnails
together against Daves forehead and dragged them slowly apart. Blood trickled from the
thin, straight scratches. Corinne sat up and examined what shed done with her teeth and
nails, and she shivered slightly and let out a tiny squeal. She put her hand between her
legs, then put her dripping-wet fingers up to Daves nose and finally smeared them on his
lips. "See what biting and scratching you did to me? Thats not normal, is it?" she asked
facetiously, and then she laughed out loud. Corinne reached and took Petes raging
hard-on in one hand, and she looked up at Tom and gestured at the tent in his pants and
said, "Want to join the party?" Tom compulsively shoved his pants down with one hand
and his hard cock popped free, and Corinne took it in her other hand. Slowly she stroked
the two mens cocks with her satin-soft fingers, occasionally dragging her thumbnails
gently along their shafts and cupping their balls. "Open his shirt," she whispered.
Instantly Pete and Tom each grabbed a lapel and ripped Daves shirt open. She took each
mans free hand and brought it to his own cock. "Keep things going for me, wont you?"
she smiled, and added, "But dont let yourselves cum, understand?"
Corinne turned to Dave. "Ive been ignoring you I know," she said with mock regret,
"But I promise, Im going to give you my full attention now." Dave struggled and cried
out, "No! Stop! Please!" He looked up at Tom and Pete but saw they were completely
in Corinnes power. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Dave and put her
lips to his ear. "Theres something I didnt tell the group," she whispered, "When I was a
little girl my mother took me to a therapist. In fact, she made me go for years, until I was
in high school. It didnt work." Corinne laughed out loud. Then she reached down his
back, dug her nails in hard, and dragged them up quickly. Dave screamed in pain. "Fact
is," Corinne said wiggling her blood-stained two-inch clear-polished fingernails in front
of Daves face, "I dont much care for therapists." And with that she clawed his chest
deeply, eliciting another agonized scream. "I dont care for therapists at all," she sighed,
and clawed both sides of his neck. "Not one little bit," she panted, and as she raked his
face again and again with her two-inch nails she arched her back, swooned and orgasmed.
"Fuck me!" she cried, grabbing Petes ass with her nails and pulling him toward her.
When Pete let go of Dave he slipped from Toms grip and slid to the floor holding his
hands to his bleeding face and moaning in pain. Corinne leapt up onto Pete wrapping her
arms and legs around him screaming, "Get inside me!" as Pete fumbled to enter her.
When he finally did, she bit down on his shoulder and clawed his back with her
fingernails as she bucked against him furiously. Tom looked on horrified seeing
Corinnes teeth buried in Petes shoulder and watching his back being sliced by her sharp
nails, and hearing his screams. It was obvious to Tom that Pete was not enjoying it even
a little, and Toms desire cooled and he decided to make a hasty exit. He grabbed his
pants and held them up as he moved swiftly toward the exit. Petes blood-curling
scream from behind made his hair stand up and a rush of adrenaline course through him.
As his fingers touched the doorknob, Tom felt stabbing pain on his neck. "Where are you
going, lover?" Corinne half-whispered in his ear with an incongruous sweetness that was
horrifying considering that she had her two-inch fingernails buried halfway into him. "N-
nowhere," Tom whimpered. "Thats right," Corinne said as she spun the stocky man
around to face her and she slammed him against the door. She grasped his throat with
one hand, unavoidably scratching him with her two-inch fingernails, and she reached her
other hand up under his Broncos sweatshirt and clawed his chest. "Did that hurt?" she
asked with obviously-fake concern, and leaned in to his ear and whispered, "I hope so."
Tom felt Corinne fondle and stroke his cock and balls, and despite his terror and pain, she
got him rock-hard in seconds. She backed him to one side, away from the door and
against the wall, slipped her hands under his sweatshirt and pushed it up and off him.
Her eyes brightened when she saw the five long bleeding claw streaks shed made on his
chest, and she licked one of them from his navel up to his neck. It stung painfully and
Tom winced. Corinne laughed. She said softly, "As you know, I like to fuck standing
up," and she wrapped her arms around his neck and began slowly climbing on him,
digging her fingernails painfully into his shoulders. She planted one foot on his hip and
as she boosted herself up she dug her very long and sharp toenails into him and ripped
them down Toms thigh. "Ooops, I slipped," she said with a smirk that made it obvious it
hadnt been accidental.
Tom looked over Corinnes shoulder and saw Dave and Pete curled on the floor groaning
in pain, their faces and bodies lined with deep red scratches. He debated whether to use
his considerable strength to overpower Corinne and make a break for it, but at that
moment he felt her warm hand on his cock and the sharp tips of her two-inch nails
pricking his ball sack, and he decided not to risk it. She guided his cock into her, and she
squealed, "Ohhh! Youre so big!" She kissed him hotly and ground herself slowly
against him, moaning with pleasure. Tom sighed and held her tightly in his muscular
arms. After all he was a sex addict and she was an amazing fuck. For several minutes
she just screwed him slowly against the wall, her legs wrapped around him with her
ankles locked together, kissing him passionately. Tom lapsed into bliss. Corinne began
to moan a little louder, and she started stroking his back with her fingernails. At first
lightly, but little by little it got harder and faster. She held him around his waist with one
leg and began lightly raking the sharp toenails of her other foot up and down the back of
his thighs. Again it started light and erotic but increased in speed and force as her lust
mounted. The pain was starting to distract him when she lightened up. For what seemed
like an eternity, Corinne would scratch him harder and harder until she felt him start to
soften inside her, and then let up, allowing his erection to return to full staff, and then
begin to scratch him harder and harder again. "I loooove to fuck," she cooed in his ear
while she probed it with her hot, wet tongue. Tom shivered and moaned. Right then she
whispered, "And scratch," and she raked his back and thighs full-force with her long,
sharp finger- and toenails. She dug them in with all her strength and bucked furiously,
banging Tom into the wall with the rhythm of a base drum, ignoring his screams. Tom
was too far into it now, and she knew that nothing she did would kill his erection no
matter how painful. "And, I love to bite," Corinne drawled just before she sank her teeth
deeply into Toms thick neck and pumped him like a jackhammer until they both came
like an explosion. Corinne let Tom slide down against the wall, leaving a wide smear of
blood from his severely-clawed back. Only when he was sitting on the floor did she
slowly open her jaws and release his neck from her bite, leaving a blood-filled perfect
imprint of her sharp, white teeth.
Corinne surveyed the three men shed left lying cringing on the floor, clawed and bitten,
two of them with pathetic grins on their faces from the ecstasy of having cum harder than
ever before. She walked naked to where her clothes lay crumpled, and began dressing
herself in a slow, languid, sensual way. Despite their wounds and exhaustion, Pete and
Tom both watched her with renewing lust. Shoes in hand, she reached for Daves
notebook which lay on the floor near him, and he grabbed for it. "I really dont like
therapists," Corinne snipped, pinning his hand to the floor with her foot, digging in with
her long, sharp toenails until he cried in pain, and then carelessly swiping them up his
arm leaving a trail of thin, bleeding scratches. She rifled through the notebook until a
smile crossed her face, and she tore out a page and crumpled it into her purse. Then she
put her high-heeled wedges on and walked out of the room.
Out in the street Corinne hailed a taxi, and when she was seated inside she took the
crumpled paper from her purse and smiled again. She gave the cabbie Elises address
and sat back as the cab sped off, biting her lip in anticipation of her impending night of
pleasure-taking with the sweet young red-haired girl. On the way, Corinne took out her
Blackberry and opened a file with a list of sexual-addiction therapy groups. She deleted
the one she had just come from, and marked the next one on her calendar for tomorrow
night.
-
THE NEW GIRL
THE NEW GIRL
I was twelve and some of my mates and I were kicking a football about in the park when
I happened to notice a group of girls gathered near a tree. They stood in a tight circle,
surrounding something or someone of apparently great interest. I excused myself to go
have a look. As I drew closer I could hear gasps and exclamations of admiration, and
finally I came close enough to see that there was one girl, whom I had never seen before,
in the centre of the gathering. She was very pretty, with long blonde curls. One of the
girls on the periphery of the gathering was Patty, the sister of one of my mates and I
tapped her on the shoulder and asked her what was happening. Excitedly she informed
me, "Theres a new girl in the neighbourhood." Peering over Pattys shoulder in-to the
centre of the crowd I could see that several of the girls were taking their turn admiring the
new girls hands. "She has nails!" Patty gushed. I felt a familiar heat-wave pass over
me. Just then Patty grabbed me by the arm and giggled, "Hey girls, I have a subject!"
Immediately several of the other girls grabbed me as well, and quickly the circle parted
ranks and I was brought before the new girl. Three girls held me solidly and pushed me
forward whilst two more girls on either side grabbed my arms and held my hands out in
front of me. One of them cried, "Melanie, show us how you scratch with your nails!"
Melanie, the new girl, protested, "I dont scratch someone unless I have a good reason."
"Hes a boy," giggled one of the on-lookers, "Thats a good reason." Meanwhile I had a
glance at Melanies hands. Her clear nail-tips appeared to be perhaps a centimeter at the
longest, but they were slightly tapered, and with her very long and slightly curved nail-
beds, her hands had the appearance of having extraordinarily long nails. They looked
very strong and very sharp and capable of inflicting some serious wounds. Squeals of
"Scratch him! Scratch him!" rose from the girls who surrounded us. Melanies ice-blue
eyes met mine, and she cast me an apologetic look. Then she lightly raked the back of
my hand with her nails, which stung and left pink tracks but didnt break my skin. "No,
scratch him hard, Melanie! Make him bleed!" someone demanded. "But I dont want
to!" she exclaimed. One of the girls grabbed Melanies wrist and tried to pull her hand
toward mine. Melanie snapped, "Dont touch me!" but the girl didnt immediately
release her grip and Melanie pinched the skin on the back of the girls hand with her
thumbnail and three fingernails, and she twisted hard. The girl let out a blood-curdling
scream and stared horror-stricken at her bleeding hand. "There," Melanie hissed, "You
wanted a demonstration of my nails, and so you got one." The injured girl ran off
wailing, and the rest grew silent and quickly backed off and dispersed, leaving Melanie
and I standing there alone. "Thanks," I said to Melanie. "What for?" she asked. "For
not doing to me what you did to her," I replied. "You didnt do anything to deserve it,"
Melanie responded coldly, "yet." "I hear you just moved in the neighbourhood," I
offered cheerfully. Melanie said nothing. "Which street?" I asked. She told me the
street and number. "Thats in my street, the very next house!" I exclaimed. She simply
shrugged her shoulders, "Probably we wont stay long. We never do." I opined,
"Always being the new girl must be frightful." "Not with these," Melanie replied,
flashing her long fingernails in front of my face.
Just then some of the young neighbourhood hooligan boys happened by. "Well well,
someones got a girlfriend," one of them teased, "How about giving her a kiss?" "Go on
with you," I said. But he continued, "Aw, come on, kiss her. Give her a bit of the
tongue too." "Leave us be!" I pleaded. "Make me!" he growled, and added menacingly
"Either you kiss her, or I will." "Try it," Melanie hissed. "What did you say to me?" he
bellowed. Melanie stared him in the eye coldly and repeated, "I said, Try it." He started
toward her, extending his tongue and wagging it disgustingly. Melanie reached for his
face. With one hand she snared his tongue with her long, sharp fingernails, and sank her
other nails in-to his face and raked it viciously. He screamed and grabbed for her wrist
but she rammed her knee up in-to his groin and he went down, with her still gripping his
tongue with her nails. No longer a threat to her, she let go of him. Just then one of the
other boys grabbed Melanie round her waist from behind and lifted her off the ground.
She curled her fingers and clawed him from his hands to his elbows and he screamed and
immediately released her, staring wide-eyed at the deep, bleeding gouges and wailing in
pain. A third boy then grabbed her round her chest and throat from behind. He was
wearing a leather coat and although I could see the rips as Melanies nails raked his coat-
sleeve, it protected him from harm. Suddenly Melanie scraped her shoe heel quickly
down his shin and as he reacted to the pain, she reached both hands up behind her head
and raked her nails swiftly down both sides of his face. He howled in pain and released
Melanie. He was holding his face in his hands but I could see blood trickling between his
fingers. Her long fingernails were obviously very strong and razor-sharp but moreover
she knew exactly how to use them in a fight, and she had no conscience whatsoever about
how badly she injured her opponent. I just stood there, like a pyromaniac before a
blazing inferno, watching this sweet-looking little curly-blonde-haired girl tear apart
three fairly good-sized boys with her long fingernails like a jungle cat. "Grab her hands!
Grab her hands!" he cried, but the others had run off. Suddenly I broke free of my trance
and started to run toward home. "Stop!" Melanie commanded, and I froze in my tracks,
certain that her long, sharp fingernails would draw my blood next. "I dont know my
way back home," she cried, running up to me, "May I walk with you?" "All-right," I
replied, breathing a sigh of relief.
"Where did you learn to fight like that?" I asked as we walked. Melanie replied, "The
first timeI was about tena boy grabbed me and and the next thing I knew he had
bloody marks all down his face and I had his skin and blood under my nails. I dont
remember scratching him and I hadnt grown my nails purposely, they just needed
cutting. But I realised how sharp they were and what deadly weapons they were, and so I
began to let them grow longer. Everywhere weve moved, with each new fight Ive got
better and better at using them." "I say, you surely savaged those hooligans," I
exclaimed. "Them? I was just teaching them a lesson," Melanie replied blandly. "Im
capable of much worse if Im truly enraged," she added solemnly, making a swift down-
stroke of her long, sharp fingernails through the air just millimeters in front of my face,
so that I could feel the air swishing by, whilst her ice-blue eyes stared un-blinking in-to
mine.
On our way home I told Melanie about Katherine, the girl I spent summers with at the
lake [see THE SUMMER IT BEGAN], and how she delighted in scratching boys just to
watch them cry in pain and bleed. Melanie said that she preferred to be left alone, but she
would claw if someone touched her. In fact she said often times she was shocked to see
afterward what shed done in a fit of rage, it was as if some demon had temporarily
possessed her. Another difference between her and Katherine was that Katherine never
used her nails on girls, whereas Melanie did not discriminate. Melanie was intrigued
when I told her that Katherine had long toenails and could deliver quite a painful
scratching with them. "Im quite sure I couldnt use my toenails as weapons even if I let
them grow," she said, "I can kick like a horse, though. And I bite like a crocodile, too."
I also mentioned that as time went on, Katherine used to use her nails on me very gently
whilst we kissed, and it felt wonderful. "If a boy kissed me I would claw his face off,"
Melanie informed me matter-of-factly, and she ran up the steps to her house and
disappeared through the doorway.
I busied myself doing school-work, but had an eerie feeling and when I turned round I
saw Melanie staring from her window, which was directly opposite mine, our houses
being less than a meter apart. But when she saw me looking at her, she quickly drew her
curtains closed. The next morning I went out-doors early and met with some mates to
walk to school. Everyone was talking about the new girl and her long nails and how
she had bloodied several people the day before. A couple of the girls were saying that
they wanted to let their nails grow and engage Melanie to teach them how to use them.
Most of the boys agreed they wanted no part of Melanie and her lethal claws. As we
walked past Melanies house she came out of the doorway but when she saw the crowd
she turned round and went back in-side. As I started up the walk my mates called to me
to come back, saying that if I had any sense of self-preservation I would stay far away
from her. I couldnt tell them I was already infatuated with Melanies long fingernails
and compelled to get as close to them as possible as often as possible. I knocked on the
door. "Melanie!" I shouted, "Come walk to school with me…with us." "Go away," she
shouted. "But, you dont know how to find the school," I reminded her. Slowly the door
opened and Melanie emerged and she walked silently past me down the path to the street.
I ran after her and gently grasped her arm. "Dont touch me!" she cried, pulling away
and curving her fingers in-to the form of claws. "I just wanted you to slow down a bit," I
said, confused at her reaction. The girls all gathered round Melanie squealing accolades
for how shed scratched those hooligans, and asking to see and admire her nails. One girl
stood back silently. It was the girl who had grabbed Melanies arm the preceding
afternoon, I could tell by the large bandage on her hand, where Melanie had gouged it
with her long nails. Melanie glared at her, and the other girl lowered her head. "Hey,
you!" came a shout. It was the girls older brother, who was fourteen, and had been
walking his sister to school. "Apologise to my sister for what you did!" he commanded.
Melanie kept walking silently. The brother pushed through the crowd and roughly spun
Melanie round to face him. "Apologise!" he demanded. "I wont," Melanie said
defiantly. There were gasps from the crowd and everyone backed away, leaving the two
of them together in the middle of a circle. "Youd better do as I say," he shouted, jabbing
his finger in-to Melanies chest. She looked down at his hand, and immediately he
realised he was in grave danger, and grabbed both of her arms. "Let go of me!" she
screamed. The crack of her shoe against his shin echoed in the narrow street. He
screamed and instinctively he bent over and clasped his leg, whereupon Melanie grasped
his nose between her thumbnail and fingernails and drew her hand away from his face
forcefully, as though she was starting a boats motor. The sound of her nails ripping his
skin was audible from meters away, followed by his blood-curdling shriek. Melanie
turned and walked on, leaving the boy bawling on the ground, blood pouring from his
nose and a large, purple knot formed on his shin.
I ran to catch up with Melanie. "Youre going in the wrong direction," I panted, "The
school is over this way." She kept walking and as I came up to her I could see she was
weeping. "Dont cry, Melanie," I pleaded. "Why wont everyone just leave me alone?"
she cried, "I hate being the new girl. I hate everyone." "Please dont hate me," I
begged her, "I like you." "No!" she wept, "I wont like you." "Why not?" I asked.
Melanie stopped and turned toward me. "Because I wont be here long," she said, "And I
dont want to miss you." "I understand," I replied, "Im sure I shall never see Katherine
again. And I didnt simply like her, I loved her." "Youre too young to love a girl,"
Melanie snipped. "Thats not true," I said, "And she loved me as well. She told me so."
"Stop telling me about her!" Melanie hissed, digging her long, sharp fingernails
forcefully in-to my arm. Not only were her nails horrificly sharp, her hands were
exceptionally strong as well, and even through the heavy fabric of my school shirt the
pain was like being stabbed with five daggers at once. "See what you made me do?"
Melanie cried, "I bet you hate me now." "I dont," I said, still reeling from the throbbing
pain in my arm, "I wont hate you even if you scratch me from head to foot." "Really?"
she squealed, wide eyed, and she formed her fingers into claws, "Prove it!" And she
began to chase me, swiping and grabbing at me and giggling. I felt the slight prick of her
nails as she closed her hand on my neck, and just at that moment I tripped over a tree-
root and fell forward, and as gravity pulled me forcibly from her grip, her nails sliced me
deeply. I screamed in pain and clasped my hand to my neck and when I looked at my
palm it was bloody. "I didnt mean to do that!" Melanie cried, "Really I didnt! Youve
got to believe me!" "I hate you!" I snapped. Her face went ashen for a moment and her
mouth hung open and tears started to well-up in her ice-blue eyes. "Im only teasing," I
said with a big smile. She began to swat me and yell, "Youre horrible! Youre awful!
That was so cruel!" but she burst in-to a smile and began to giggle. I got to my feet and
we began walking toward the school. "Admit it," I said to her, "You like me." "I do
not!" she said, sticking her tongue at me. "You do so," I said, sticking my tongue at her.
"I do not! But I probably dont hate you. However if you tell anyone I said that, Ill kick
you in the balls," Melanie threatened. "I can keep a secret," I assured her. "And if you
touch me or try to kiss me I will claw you down to the bone with these," she said,
brandishing her nails menacingly at me. I smiled and asked, "Want to walk home
together after school?" "All-right. Ill meet you on this spot," she promised. "And please
try not to get in-to any more fights," I admonished her. "I never fight in school," she
assured me, " I get my revenge later. That way they cant expel me." Actually I hadnt
thought about expulsion, I was most concerned they might compel her to cut her nails.
One evening some weeks later, it was a bit stuffy in-doors and I threw open my bedroom
windows. Melanie had done likewise and I could hear shouting coming from her house.
I called to her and she came to the window. "Is everything all-right?" I asked. "Oh yes,
perfectly," she replied, "My mum and dad are always at each other. They can go on like
that half the night." "How can you concentrate on your school-work?" I enquired. "Its
not easy," she answered. "Its quiet as a tomb over here," I said, "My mum has a glass or
two of sherry and falls asleep early every night." "What about your dad?" Melanie
asked. "He died when I was a baby," I replied. (Actually hed simply run off, but to us
he was dead, and Mum said that telling a little white lie was preferable to enduring
scandalous gossip). "Why dont you come over here?" I suggested, "We can do our
school-work together." "I dont feel like dressing and going down-stairs," she sighed.
"No need," I exclaimed. "Its only perhaps half a meter between houses." Melanie
looked down and gasped, "But its a lot more than half a meter to the ground, if I should
fall!" "I wont let you fall," I promised solemnly. "I dont know…" she hesitated.
Melanie handed me her book and then gingerly climbed out her window and put one bare
foot on my window-sill. I reached to help her in but she drew her arms back quickly.
"Oh, sorry," I said, "I forgot you dont like anyone to touch you." Melanie lowered her
eyes momentarily and then she looked back up at me and cautiously extended her arms. I
gently took her hands and helped her in. In flannel pajamas and barefoot, Melanie
explored my room. She gazed at the wooden toy aeroplane I kept on a shelf. "Did you
fashion that yourself?" she asked. "Yes, a couple of years ago," I answered, and asked
eagerly, "Would you like to see it?" "May I?" she replied. I handed it to her, and she
held it tenderly, running her fingers gently over the wings and along the fuselage, as I
contemplated her beautiful, long fingernails, imagining I was that toy aeroplane. She
blew on the propeller and it moved slightly, then she flicked it with her forefinger-nail
and it spun freely, and she smiled. "Its grand," she said, handing it carefully back to me.
She spied a worn and raggedy brown teddy-bear and took it from the shelf. "Is this
yours?" she asked. "It was. Back when I was small," I replied, slightly embarassed.
Melanie clasped the old teddy-bear to her, nuzzling it with her cheek and combing its fur
gently with her long fingernails. "Good-night Teddy," she smiled, kissing the stuffed
bear and tenderly placing it back upon the shelf. "Shall we read our school-work?" I
offered, unable to stand watching her caress any more of my possessions. "All-right,"
she smiled, and she grasped her book and sat on my bed. I took my book and propped
the pillows up against the head-board. "Slide over a bit," I asked, and Melanie wriggled
sideways. We sat against my pillows with our legs outstretched and began reading. I
had a difficult time concentrating, as her incredible long fingernails were mere
centimeters from me, grasping her book and turning pages. Occasionally she would
absently scratch her head and I could hear that unmistakable long-nail sound. Melanie
yawned and set her book in her lap momentarily. "You have big feet," she exclaimed.
"Theyre not that big," I shot back. "Theyre enormous!" she giggled, brushing my feet
with hers. I lowered my book and looked down the bed. Indeed my feet were half again
longer and wider then hers. Melanie changed position so that she lay on her stomach
facing the foot of the bed, and busied herself reading again. Melanie alternated absently
waving her legs in the air and resting them beside me, with her wrinkled soles facing up,
curling and un-curling her toes. Although she had only slight slivers of clear toenail
growth beyond the quick, her feet were very pretty and delicate. "Ill bet those enormous
feet are enormously ticklish," I heard her say, and then I felt my ankle in her very strong
grip. As I put down my book I saw her looking at me with a devilish grin, wiggling her
long-nailed fingers just in front of my sole. I could swear it tickled even before she
actually touched her nails to my foot. As she gently scraped her sharp nails against my
sole I began to laugh and pull my foot back and kick at her with my other foot. I
managed to break free of her grip but she got on her knees giggling and squealing and
grasping for my rapidly-pedalling legs. Suddenly I yelped as her long, sharp fingernails
sliced my legs and gouged across my ankle-bones. Seeing that shed scratched me and I
was bleeding, Melanie put her hand over her mouth and gasped, "Gracious! Im so sorry.
I didnt mean to!" And she grabbed her book and got up. "Ill go," she said softly,
bowing her head. "Please dont leave," I begged. "Really? You still want me to stay?"
she said incredulously, "You dont hate me?" "I dont hate you!" I cried. Melanie
looked at me intently with her ice-blue eyes and she brushed back her long, blonde curls
with her lovely long-nailed fingers. She smiled and said softly, "I dont hate you either."
Melanie sat back against the pillows next to me and resumed reading. After a while she
closed her book and announced that shed finished her reading. "I have half a chapter
remaining," I said. Suddenly a heat-wave flushed over me and my heart began pounding
in my ears as I realised Melanie was gently stroking her long fingernails against my arm.
"Am I doing it properly?" she asked timidly. "Y-y-yes," I stammered, trembling and
breathing heavily. "I want to do it like she…like Katherine did it," Melanie insisted. I
stammered and hesitated a bit and she asked, "What? What is it?" "Nothing," I fibbed.
"Liar!" she huffed, "Tell me!" And she turned toward me and gently grazed her beautiful
long fingernails down my cheek, repeating softly, "Tell me, tell me, tell me…" "I cant,"
I began, "I mean, you dont want to know…" Indenting her sharp nails in my face, she
hissed through clenched teeth, "Tell me!" "Well," I started hesitantly, "as I perhaps
mentioned before…whilst she stroked me with her nails we would kiss. I recall you said
you would claw someones face off if they kissed you." Then I quickly added, "But
truly we neednt ever kiss if you dont want to. Simply touching me with your nails is
wonderful." "Thanks," she said, dragging her long nails slowly and gently from my
fingertips to my shoulder, and back again. I was panting and she could feel me tremble.
"I really do have to go now," she said apologetically. I opened the window and held her
hands as she crawled back through her window. Once she was in her room, she leant out
and grasped the window-panes and I heard her long fingernails click against the glass.
Just before she closed them she said coyly, "If someday you did happen to kiss me, I
probably wouldnt claw your face off."
Melanies early displays of what she could and would do to anyone who molested her
were sufficient to win her the fear and respect of most girls and boys in school and the
neighbourhood, although once in a while I would hear tell of an incident where shed
scratched someone, or I would see someone with scratch marks on their face and arms
and know it was Melanies work. Quite a few times one or other of the girls tried to
convince Melanie to claw some boy on their behalf but she refused. Then one evening
Melanie and I and Patty, who was the closest thing to a best-girl-mate Melanie had, were
walking through the park on our way home from the cinema, and three boys from a
different neighbourhood began taunting us, and one of them grabbed Patty by her hair
and she started to cry and scream. What happened next was incredible. Melanie came
from behind Pattys assailant and gored the back of his neck with her deadly long
fingernails, and as he screamed and released Patty and turned round to Melanie she
impailed his face with her claws and kicked him full-force in his balls. She clawed his
face as she released him, and he dropped to the ground moaning in agony. The second
boy rushed at Melanie and tackled her to the ground, held her arms down and yelled for
the third boy to help him. I dove for the third boy, and we wrestled and fought. I saw
Melanie spit in her captors face, and when he lowered his head to wipe his face on her
blouse, she clamped her teeth on-to his nose and he screamed and lost his grip on her
arms. She let out a feral scream, and when next I could look, she was on top of him,
clawing him wildly, her hands a blur of raking motion, like a badger digging a burrow.
The boy with whom I was fighting scrambled to his feet and grabbed a large stick and
headed for Melanie. I jumped on him and wrested the stick away, but he punched me in
the face. Patty had run off to summon help and just then returned with her father,
whereupon the assailants ran off. I kept repeating to Melanie how awful I felt that I
wasnt able to help her more. "If not for you hed have brained me with that stick,"
Melanie exclaimed, and she rose on tip-toes and kissed me gently on my cheek, which
along with my eye was now purple and swollen. She stroked the backs of my hands with
her long fingernails, which were nearly black from the dried blood underneath, and she
turned her face up to mine and took a deep breath, closed her eyes tightly and puckered
her lips. I put my arms round her and softly moved my lips in tiny circles against hers.
At first she remained tense and didnt respond to my kiss, but after a couple of seconds I
felt her exhale through her nose and she relaxed and moved her lips slowly against mine,
with widening circles and increasing pressure, and I felt her arms go round me and her
fingernails gently grasp my back. When the kiss ended, Melanie rested her head
against my chest momentarily, breathing rapidly. Then she turned her face up to mine
and brought her nails to my face. I asked timidly, "Youre not going to claw my face off
after all, are you?" "Shut up!" she smiled, blushing slightly, and she stroked her nails
gently down my one cheek whilst she slipped her other hand round the back of my neck
and pulled me in-to another kiss.
Patty said good-night and she and her father left, and Melanie and I walked home hand-
in-hand. "My mum and dad are going to go berserk when they see me," she cried
suddenly, looking at her soiled blouse. "And theyre sure to make me cut these," she
added, gazing at her long, blood-caked fingernails, "Theyre sick to death of me acting
un lady-like as they put it." A wave of panic flashed through me. "Lets stop at my
house and get you cleaned-up," I offered, "so theyll never know." "Thats a super idea!"
she cried.
My mum had already had her sherry and fallen asleep, and Melanie and I went in-to the
laundry, where I took one of my clean shirts off the rack and told Melanie to put it on
whilst I stepped out to allow her privacy. Melanie laundered her blouse and wrung it
damp and whilst we waited for the iron to heat, I took her in-to the loo and ran a basin of
warm, soapy water and bade her soak her hands. I ran up-stairs and quietly fetched a
nail-brush and the little leather case which contained my mums manicure implements.
Mum had received it as a gift but never used it, as she did not have long nails. "Thanks,"
Melanie said softly, reaching for the case. "May I?" I asked. "You want to clean my
fingernails?" Melanie asked with surprise. "Yes. May I?" I repeated. Melanie rolled her
eyes and blushed. "All-right, I guess so," she said hesitantly. "Ill be very careful," I
promised. And I gently took each of her hands in turn in mine, slowly scrubbed her
delicate but strong fingers, and carefully and meticulously cleaned the debris from
beneath each of her exquisitely-sharp long fingernails until they were clear and spotless.
"Thanks," Melanie giggled shyly as I finished the last nail. "Wait," I said as she
withdrew her hand, and I produced a nail-buffer. I offered her my palm and Melanie
gently laid her long-nailed hand on mine. When Id finished buffing her nails to a
brilliant shine she admired them before her and exclaimed, "Oh how beautiful they look!"
I leaned my face to hers but she backed away slightly and said, "You know, just because
I let you kiss me earlier doesnt mean you can do it anytime you want from now on." "I
understand," I said. "Good," she replied. Then she brought her lips to mine and closed
her eyes, and as we kissed she gently caressed my face and neck with her clean, glossy
long nails.
Melanie ironed her blouse, turned her back and changed in-to it, then handed me back my
shirt. "You ought to put some ice on your eye," she chided. In the rapture of being in her
presence and administering to her nails Id completely forgot about my painful, swollen
eye. I saw Melanie to the door, we kissed good-night softly, and she bounded to her
house. I went to the kitchen and filled a bag with ice and went up to my bedroom.
There I lay with the ice on my eye, clutching my shirt that Melanie had worn, inhaling
her clean, soapy scent and re-living the feel of her tender, warm lips on mine. I could see
the light in her room reflected off my windowpane and I got off my bed and looked
across at her window. She was seated cross-legged and barefoot on her bed, reading.
She looked up and saw me and put her hands on her hips in mock indignation, then she
skipped to the window and cast it open. I opened my window as well. "Are you spying
on me?" she giggled, "With your one good eye?" "Come over," I pleaded. "Havent you
had enough of me to-day?" she asked. "I guess not," I replied. "If I come over, do you
promise not to kiss me?" she demanded. "All-right, I promise," I answered. "Then I
shant come over," she huffed, crossing her arms and turning her head to one side.
"Youve certainly changed your opinion of kissing," I observed. "Shut up!" Melanie
cried, and then she burst into giggles, which made me laugh. "Oww, it hurts my eye to
smile!" I cried. "Only for five minutes," Melanie proclaimed, as I helped her crawl in
through my window. We sat on my bed against the head-board and Melanie picked up
the ice-bag and gently applied it to my swollen eye. "Oww, it hurts!" I cried. Melanie
stroked the other side of my face with her long nails, and in-between placing soft, wet
kisses on my lips she asked, "Does…this…make…it…feel…better?" I could only nod
and sigh loudly. Five minutes turned in-to an hour, and Melanie finally said she had to
leave. "Stay until morning," I begged her, reminding her how Katherine used to, "Ill set
my alarm-clock, you can be back in your room before anyones awake." "You were
eleven then. Were nearly thirteen now. It simply wouldnt be proper, " Melanie
observed. "It isnt fair," I sighed, but I realised she was correct. "It isnt that I dont
want to stay," she said, "Id rather be with you every second of every day and night if I
could." "Me too," I said, and we embraced each other tightly. I helped her back across
and in-to her room. "Hold your arms out," Melanie said, smiling. Leaning against my
window-sill I thrust my arms ahead as far as I could. Melanie leant against her sill and
stretched her arms out. Starting at the inside of my elbows she scraped her long
fingernails gently and slowly down the sensitive undersides of my arms and across my
palms and along my fingers and off my fingertips, then she blew me a kiss and closed her
window and drew her curtains. I lay awake for hours, recalling Melanies touch and the
sight of her long, beautiful nails, knowing she was mere meters away and longing for her
presence.
From that day onward, Melanie and I were quite inseparable. We went everywhere and
did everything together. That was pleasing to me, as I desired always to be within sight
of her nails. Melanie would sit in the grass and watch me play football with my mates,
and then she would accompany us for refreshments. A couple of the other boys had
girlfriends, so Melanie wasnt the only girl in the group, but she was the only one to
occasionally join in the matches. The other boys were rather unenthusiastic about having
her play with us. They were no doubt embarassed because she could out-run, out-
manoeuver and out-kick most of them, but mostly it was in order to avoid being sliced-
open by her long sharp fingernails. That would happen either accidentally in the course
of play or purposely as a result of Melanies easily-provoked temperament if someone
happened to commit a foul against her, so everyone gave her such a wide berth that she
would easily score. Melanie once suggested we play Rugby instead, and my mates all
cried "Not on your life!" I admit I used to get excited whenever she scratched me or one
of my mates, but its still puzzling why no-one else thought to insist she wear gloves.
Perhaps for the same reason they never refused to allow her to play: fear. Melanie had
few girl-mates, in fact, Patty was her only close one. None of the others teased or taunted
her, for obvious reasons. They simply kept clear of her. A few of them became her
admirers and followed her about, hoping that by proximity to her they would be shielded
from torment by boys and mean-spirited girls alike.
With her long blonde curls and large ice-blue eyes Melanie was extremely fetching, and
most of the boys couldnt help but fancy her. I wasnt a terribly indimidating figure, so
it wasnt for fear of me that few boys pursued Melanie. After several had tried to hold
her hand or put an arm round her and come away with bleeding scratches on their hands
and arms, word got round that it was dangerous to approach her with romantic intentions.
It was common practise for boys of our age to run up to a girl and cry "How about a
kiss?" whereupon the girl would scream and run and the boy would give chase until shed
either out-run him or, most often, be caught and kissed. Only once did a boy try that
with Melanie, on a dare from his mates. Instead of running (and Melanie couldve out-
run him easily) she simply looked him in the eye and said coldly, "I dare you to kiss me."
"Wait," he said suspiciously, "Are you going to scratch me? Or kick me? Or bite me?"
"Maybe all three," Melanie mused, smiling, "But youre not scared, are you?" Then she
put her hands behind her back and closed her eyes and puckered her lips. By this time a
crowd had gathered round. "Im waiting," she said, and as the boy stood there hesitating,
peals of laughter and imitations of a clucking hen emanated from the crowd in increasing
number and volume. Facing abject humiliation if he backed away, the hapless boy
figured his best strategy would be to peck her on the lips quickly enough to beat a safe
retreat. Alas for him, Melanies reflexes were lightning-fast, and the instant his lips were
about to touch hers, she caught his face with both hands, her wickedly-sharp fingernails
buried round his forehead and temples, and her long deadly thumbnails beneath his eyes
just to either side of his nose. She held him centimeters from her face, staring in-to his
terrified eyes. He grabbed her wrists instinctively, but without breaking her stare she
drove her knee soundly up in-to his crotch, causing him to immediately release his grip
on her and clutch his groin in agony. "Ready?" Melanie asked. And then, as a nurse
might say to a small child just before giving an injection, she cooed sweetly, "This is
going to sting a bit." And she swiftly raked her long, sharp fingernails down his face and
neck and then down his chest, leaving a staccato of rips in the fabric of his thin tee-shirt,
which began to soak through with his blood. He clasped his hands to his clawed,
bleeding face and fell to his knees, wailing in pain. Then Melanie kicked him in his
stomach and he went silent, hunched forward and vomited. At that moment she walked
round to the rear of him, sank her long nails in-to the back of his neck and clawed them
down his back, leaving more tears in his tee-shirt, and bloody furrows in his skin. The
poor lad was crumpled on the ground, gasping in sobs and moans. The crowd stood in
horrified silence as Melanie then squatted down and brought her mouth close to his ear,
baring her white teeth. He cowered to one side and put his arm over his head in a feeble
gesture of self-protection. Suddenly Melanie stood and announced, "Ive decided I shant
bite you after all," and added, "At the moment I dont fancy the taste of chicken." The
boys in the crowd roared with laughter, and there were squeals of cheer and applause
from the girls.
Every night either when her mum and dad were occupied shouting at one-another down-
stairs, or after theyd gone to bed, Melanie would reach a broom-handle across to tap on
my window and I would help her climb between the houses and in-to my room. We
would do our school-work together, with frequent interludes of kissing and caressing.
She made me her official manicurist as well, saying that I did a much better job than she
could do herself. I maintained her nails clean and shiny, as well as ideally-long, razor-
sharp and properly shaped for the most effective deployment against her enemies. In
return Melanie would use them on me in the most incredibly wonderful ways.
Sometimes she would brush the tips across my skin everso gently whilst she watched my
reaction intently, and sometimes, typically whilst we kissed, she would scratch me just
shy of drawing blood. One evening Melanie had me in a particularly deep state of bliss
and she remarked, "Sometimes I wonder if its me you fancy, or simply my long
fingernails." My heart pounding I blurted, "I fancy your nails, Melanie, but you I love."
"Shut up!" she cried, and dug her nails into my hand. "Oww!" I cried, "That really hurt!
Why did you do that?" "Because!" she exclaimed, and then continued very shyly, "I
probably love you, too." Melanie proclaimed, "Lets make a vow." "What kind of vow?"
I asked. "If I must move away," she said, "we must promise not to let anyone keep us
apart no matter what. We must vow to write or telephone every day until were grown, to
never fancy anyone else, and vow to be together forever after!" "I vow," I said seriously,
with my hand over my heart. "I vow also," she said, with hand over heart. Resting her
head on my shoulder she took my hand and kissed the bleeding half-moons shed made
with her sharp fingernails.
There was a girl at my school class named Allison. Allison was one of those girls who
developed early, and so she was envied by most of the other girls and fantasised by all of
the boys. She was my height, making her a head taller than most of the other boys, and
she was very fetching. Allison didnt have very long nails, perhaps 3-4 millimeters, but
considering none of the other girls had nails at all, she was second to Melanie in nail-
length. Nails were simply a fashion to Allison, and she kept them varnished clear, and
had never used them as weapons. Allison was rather vain and shallow, and didnt see
much need to excel scholastically because her looks got her everything she wanted.
Except, that is, immunity from a failing mark in science. As a result, the science teacher
decided to pair us in the laboratory, hoping I would help Allison to fare better in the
class. Although I didnt fancy her personality in the least, and I was completely smitten
with Melanie, Allison did have nails that were just long enough to pique my fascination,
so I wasnt exactly cold toward her. Allison was flirtatious, but she was so with all the
boys.
"Do you fancy her," Melanie asked off-handedly as we sat on my bed doing our school-
work. "What? Who?" I asked, befuddled. "You know who," she snapped. "You mean
Allison?" I asked. "She fancies you," Melanie exclaimed. "She told you?" I asked. "Of
course not. But a girl can tell when another girl fancies a boy." "Allisons simply a
flirt," I assured her. "A very good flirt," Melanie responded somberly, "and as you know,
she doesnt have a boyfriend." "I dont fancy Allison," I said emphatically. "You had
better not," Melanie warned. Her tone sent a shivver down my spine, and I never before
saw such a chilling look in her ice-blue eyes.
I rarely saw Allison at school except in class, and never out-side of school. But one day
as I was waiting for Melanie just out-side the school gates, Allison approached me with
some pretext for casual conversation, then blurted out, "Why dont you fancy me? Dont
you want to kiss me? You can if you want to!" Being twelve I was completely
unprepared for this, and moreover my budding male ego was overwhelmed by the fact
this extremely beautiful girl, the desire of all the boys in school, was throwing herself at
me. "Youre beautiful!" I assured her, not knowing what else to say. Suddenly, Allison
threw her arms round me and kissed me. It was a quick kiss really, nothing passionate in
the least, but at that instant I heard a blood-curdling feral scream and turned to see
Melanie racing toward us with her fingers curved and the sun glinting off of her shiny
long fingernails. I intercepted her, shouting for her to stop. Melanie raked her deadly
nails harshly down both of my arms and the pain caused me to let-go of her and she
grabbed a hand-ful of Allisons hair and pulled her down on the ground. Allison was
flailing and slapping at Melanie but it was ineffective and Allisons arms were quickly
covered with bleeding scratches. Finally Melanie sat atop her, with her knees pinning
Allisons arms to the ground. Melanies ice-blue eyes glared with hatred as her talons
hovered centimers above Allisons face. Allison was begging and sobbing, "Not my
face! Oh please, not my face!" "Melanie, dont!" I pleaded. She turned to me and cried,
"You love her, dont you!" "No!" I cried, "I love you!" "You truly still love me?"
Melanie asked meekly. "Always," I cried. Melanie turned to Allison and, indenting her
long nails in Allisons cheeks but not hard enough to draw blood, she hissed, "If you ever
touch him again I shall rip your pretty little face to shreds." And before she climbed off
of Allison, Melanie let her nails scrape down Allisons face just hard enough to leave
pink trails but not draw blood. A crowd had gathered and the girls and boys alike began
to applaud. The girls because the object of their envy had been bested by one of their
own, and the boys because Allison had teased and then spurned so many of them. I was
perhaps the only one not cheering. I throbbed from the long, bleeding tracks the girl I
loved, and who supposedly loved me, had scratched in-to my arms in a fit of anger. I
shuddered at how close shed come to destroying another girls face as a result of her
jealous rage and wondered if I would be able to stop her next time. I realised that the
vow of eternal fidelity which Melanie had made us take, was deadly serious, and at least
for as long as she desired, I belonged to Melanie and her long, sharp fingernails.
-
The Night Before X-Mas
The Night Before X-Mas…by Stryker
Since August when their only child Jamie began her freshman semester at college away
in another state, Gerald and Marcia found themselves spending long periods of
undistracted time together for the first time in eighteen years. Marcia enjoyed having
Gerald to herself, to do things like talk about long-overdue projects around the house, or
to plan cruises shed always wanted them to take. Gerald however found himself
increasingly discontented. Through the years, he had been focused on Jamie, who was
very bright and had myriad interests that kept her parents hopping. There were a host of
scholastic pursuits, plus extra-curricular activities like dance, music and drama.
Suddenly Gerald was noticing the changes in Marcia that had crept up while he had been
distracted. Things like extra pounds and wrinkles here and there, the change in her hair
color brought on by various attempts to cover graying...not to mention her hair having
gotten shorter and shorter from what had been waist-length when they married, to what
was now a very short and, to Gerald, un-feminine style. The sexy girl who had driven
him mad with lust when they met and married had gradually morphed into a middle-aged
mom. Her long fingernails, which had been a most powerful turn-on for Gerald, had also
undergone continual shortening through the years, brought on partly by the practicality of
being a working mom, and more recently by the tide of current fashion driven by models
in magazines wearing their nails man-short. Of it all, Gerald lamented her nails the most;
their graceful and feminine look, and the feel of them on his skin when they had sex.
Gerald loved Marcia and had never cheated on her, nor did he want to. It made him very
guilty to fantasize while he and Marcia had sex, yet he found himself doing it more and
more in order to get and keep an erection. He was afraid to talk it over with Marcia for
fear of hurting her feelings. And, hearing his buddies talk about their wives, Gerald felt
lucky that at least Marcia was still interested in sex and he never had to beg or bargain
with her for it. He figured that fantasies and Viagra were just the realities of being a
middle-aged man who didnt want to cheat on his wife.
Gerald was even happier than Marcia when their daughter Jamie called to say she would
be coming home for X-Mas vacation. He missed her of course, but also he needed a
distraction from his growing discontent. In fact when Jamie had called and asked,
"Daddy, is it ok if I bring my roommate home for the holidays so she wont have to
spend X-Mas in the dorm by herself?" Geralds answer had been, "The more the
merrier!" Marcia informed him after he hung up, "You know honey, if she brings a
friend home well hardly see her the entire time." He hadnt though of that, but hed
shrugged and said, "We cant let the poor girl stay at college all alone for X-Mas." She
was always the more logical, him the more compassionate. Thats why they made such a
good pair, she surmised. Marcia smiled and ran her fingers through her husbands
graying hair and kissed his forehead. Gerald took her hand and kissed it. He couldnt
help but think how her nails were as short as his.
The doorbell rang the morning of X-Mas Eve and as a taxi sped off, there stood Jamie
and her roommate on the front porch, in parkas and stocking caps, their breaths steamy in
the frigid air, grasping their rolling suitcases with mittened hands. Marcia squeaked with
happiness while she opened the door and ushered the two girls inside. "Mom, this is my
roommate," Jamie said, pushing her black-rimmed glasses up her cold-reddened nose,
and she looked over her shoulder at her friend and said, "This is my mom." "Nice to
meet you, Jamies Roommate," Marcia said. "Nice to meet you, Jamies Mom," the
other girl said, sharing an eyebrow raise and eye-roll with Marcia at Jamies lack of
protocol, "Im Angela." "Call me Marcia," Marcia said. Jamie let go of the handle of
her suitcase and it fell over with a thud as she ran squealing to Gerald who had appeared
down the hall. Jamie pulled her mittens off with her teeth and yanked off her stocking
cap and wiggled out of her parka, dropping them all on the floor. Her short brown hair
was flattened from her hat, and she fluffed it with her fingers as she ran to her father. He
noticed the little square spots of black polish on her short fingernails and sighed to
himself. Femininity had sure taken on a new definition. Jamie threw her arms around
his neck and showered him with kisses. "Agh, youre choking me!" Gerald kidded,
although he was delighted that his daughter still had the exuberance and unconditional
love for him at eighteen as she had at eight. "This is Jamies roommate Angela," Marcia
said introducing, "This is Jamies dad, Gerald." Still holding Jamie, Gerald extended his
hand and Angela took it, shyly at first, but a smile slowly crept over her pretty face while
her sparkling dark eyes continued to gaze at him. She was still wearing her mittens and
coat and hat, and Marcia asked Jamie politely to help her friend hang her things in the
closet…and to pick hers up off the floor and do likewise with them! "We miss you but
there are still rules," Marcia admonished her. Ever the spoiling father, Gerald picked up
Jamies coat and hat, catching Marcias disapproving scowl as he did. While he hung
them in the closet, Angela stood alongside him and took her stocking cap off. With one
toss of her head, her thick, shimmering black hair fell into a straight line across the
middle of her back. She smiled at him with a coquettish twinkle, the sort of innocent-but-
flirtatious look that comes instinctively to young girls who know they are beautiful.
Gerald didnt want to seem like he was leering, so he lowered his eyes and noticed she
still had on her mittens. "Want to take those off and stay a while?" he joked. She
giggled and held her arms out toward him, "Help! I think theyre frozen on!" Laughing,
Gerald pulled her mittens off, but his laugh quickly turned to a gasp when he saw
Angelas inch-long purple-polished fingernails, meticulously shaped, delicate, and real.
Gerald started to cough. "Are you ok?" Angela asked concernedly, resting her hand on
his shoulder. Gerald nodded. "Swallowed the wrong way," he choked. Jamie ran up and
started slapping her father on the back, urging him to raise his arms. She rolled her eyes
at Angela and said, "My dads just being his dorky self." Angela gave Gerald that
coquettish look again, and quietly said, "Oh, I dont know. I dont think hes dorky at
all." And as she turned away, Gerald felt her nails gently trail along his shirtsleeve,
making a swishing sound.
"You two must be starved. What time did you have to be at the airport this morning?"
Marcia asked. "Five thirty," Jamie answered, "And yeah, Im famished!" "I have some
soup to heat up. Come help me with sandwiches," Marcia said. Jamie sighed, "Mom!
Im exhausted!" Marcia took her daughter by the sleeve, "I want a few minutes with you
alone before your dad monopolizes you." "What about Angela?" Jamie asked. "Your
father can entertain her," Marcia said. "Thats ok, I have to unpack and stuff," Angela
said. "Gerald?" Marcia hollered, "Help Angela upstairs with her bag and show her her
room, ok?" "The games on!" Gerald hollered back from the den. Marcia looked
apologetically at Angela. "Men!" she said shaking her head. "Thats ok," Angela said,
"My suitcase is really light". "The guest room is the second door on the right at the top
of the stairs," Marcia said, "I left some towels on the bed. Just ask if you need anything."
"Thank you so much," Angela said gazing into Marcias eyes and touching her shoulder,
and then she took her bag and went upstairs. Marcia turned to Jamie and said, "Your
friend seems like such a sweet person. Im glad you brought her. But…what about her
family?" Jamie whispered, "Her father left when she was really young and isnt in her
life. And her mom I guess goes through one boyfriend after another. Shes in Bermuda
with her latest as we speak." "Thats so sad," Marcia whispered, "And all the more
amazing what a sweet girl she is."
Jamie kept her mother company while she prepared lunch, talking about inconsequential
mother-daughter stuff. Marcia called out to Gerald and Jamie called to Angela to come
to the kitchen. Gerald turned on the little TV on the counter and Marcia gave him a dirty
look. "Its almost halftime," he assured her. Angela came in wearing a knee-length t-
shirt and pink fuzzy slippers. "Im glad to see you feel at home here," Marcia said
sweetly. Angela looked down at herself self-consciously and then she looked up at
Marcia and said, "Im sorry! Am I under-dressed? Ill go put something else on." "No!"
Marcia exclaimed, "Youre dressed fine. I meant it honestly. Im glad you feel
comfortable here." Angela smiled shyly and sat at the table, while Marcia ladled soup
into her bowl. "That smells amazing," Angela beamed at Marcia. Marcia held Angelas
head to her bosom and kissed her forehead. Gerald sat across from her, with one eye on
the TV until the halftime festivities started. "I take it youre a football fan," Angela
remarked. "Understatement of the century," Jamie interjected with a mouthful of
sandwich. "Me too," Angela said looking into Geralds eyes. "My wife and daughter
think its barbaric," Gerald said. "We have names," Marcia reminded him.
Gerald couldnt help but watch Angela as she ate, although he hoped she wouldnt notice.
At least thats what he told himself. In truth he hoped Marcia and Jamie wouldnt notice.
Angela would sweep her long, shimmering dark hair back but it would keep falling in her
face, and Gerald found that sexy. She would blow on each spoonful of soup to cool it,
and then rather than suction the soup off the side of the spoon, she would envelop the
spoon with her mouth and withdraw it slowly through her plump, wet, pink lips. Gerald
found that really sexy. When she leaned forward, the contour of her quite-ample breasts
was revealed by her thin t-shirt, as was the fact she was bra-less, because her nipples
stood clearly outlined by the fabric. But the thing that Gerald found the most sexy was
the sight of Angelas ten, inch-long purple-polished real fingernails. Whether wrapped
around the spoon, or steadying the bowl, or grasping her sandwich, Gerald found them
incredibly arousing. At one point she accidentally dipped the tips of a couple of her nails
into the soup and licked them off, and Gerald could feel his dick instantly swell inside his
pants. He didnt know if Angela knew what she was doing to him. It had seemed
innocent, she had seemed preoccupied, but then she raised her eyes and met his with that
coquettish smile. He was glad that Marcia and Jamie were busy chattering with each
other and not paying attention to him and Angela.
Halftime ended and Gerald started to get up. Marcia shot him a steely stare and he sat
back down. The game resumed, and during the first play, his team fumbled and the other
team recovered the ball, and Gerald yelled out his disappointmentin harmony with
Angela! They smiled at each other and from then on, the two of them started talking
football, interrupting only to cheer or jeer loudly depending on what happened on the
field. Exasperated and annoyed Marcia said, "Would you and Angela like to go finish
the game in the den? Please!" "Thought youd never ask," Gerald joked. Angela turned
to Marcia and Jamie and said rather apologetically, "Are you sure? I dont want to be
rude to you guys." Marcia and Jamie assured her that it was fine, and Angela said a
cheerful "Thanks!" and scampered off. The 50-inch plasma TV was on one wall of the
spacious den, and there were two couches arranged at 90 degrees, one of which directly
faced the TV. Gerald was sitting on it, with his stocking feet propped on the coffee table
next to large bowls of Fritos, salsa and guacamole dip. Angela sat down gingerly on
the edge of the other couch and craned her neck to see the TV. "Help yourself to chips
and stuff," Gerald said. Angela made an exaggerated stretch and plucked one Frito
delicately with her inch-long purple-polished nails, and scooped up some guacamole dip.
Angela said, "Oops!" and when Gerald looked, Angela showed him the trough on the
underside of her pointer nail was filled with dip, and then carefully licked it clean. "The
downside of having long fingernails," she said with little laugh. Gerald returned a polite
smile, hoping it would conceal his excitement. "And mine are reaaaallly long," Angela
continued, splaying them out in front of her so Gerald could get a good look. "Um hum,"
Gerald agreed, still trying to act nonchalant but sinking fast. "Most guys I meet at school
think long fingernails are skanky," she said, "Theyre so immature. Mature men think
that long nails on a girl are hot." Gerald shrugged, praying silently for her to change the
subject. Angela leaned forward and stared him in the eye and asked, "You think my long
fingernails are hot, dont you?" Gerald could feel himself blush, and Angela giggled and
said, "Ill take that as a yes."
"Angela," Gerald began, but she quickly interrupted him, "Its kind of hard to see the
game from here. Mind if I come sit next to you?" Hesitant but not wanting to offend
hernor able resist wanting her and her nails closer to him, Gerald moved over to the
end of his couch, and Angela plopped herself down at the opposite end. She groaned at
the TV because their team had just lost possession again, and Gerald was relieved that
Angela was done talking about her nails and focused on the game. Angela kicked off her
fuzzy pink slippers and put her feet up on the coffee table in front of her. From the
corner of his eye Gerald noticed her French pedicure, but at second glance he realized
that her toenails were completely bare, and what had appeared to be French tips was just
natural growth. Angela saw that he was looking at her feet and said, "Im sorry. Do my
feet gross you out?" "Oh…no!" Gerald said immediately to reassure her, but she quickly
pulled them up on the couch. Gerald turned to repeat his reassurance, and saw Angela
slowly rubbing her soles and in-between her toes. "Really? You dont think my feet are
ugly?" she asked in a tiny voice. He was quickly realizing that the sight of her long
purple fingernails playing with her tender-looking pink feet was turning him on. "Of
course theyre not ugly," Gerald said. "So then…are they…hot?" she asked flashing that
coquettish smile at him. "Well I…" he stammered. Angela stretched one bare leg out at
him so her foot was inches in front of his face, and she swiveled her ankle around and
spread and curled her toes. Gerald took notice of how long and smooth and perfect her
legs were. "I usually keep my toes polished, and they look nicer if my toenails are a little
long, so thats why they are. Long, that is," she explained, "But its winter and I didnt
think anyone would be seeing my toes so I didnt bother polishing them."
"Oh…uh…ok," Gerald said, frozen in his seat with Angelas foot hovering in front of his
face. "If Id known you were gonna see them, I wouldve polished them for you," she
said letting her foot slide gently down Geralds arm, which raised goosebumps. She
curled her toes and lightly scratched at him and added with her coquettish smile, "But
you like seeing how long my toenails are, dont you!" Gerald gritted his teeth and
drew a deep breath, but he could feel himself blush again, and Angela giggled again and
said, "Ill take that as another yes". Angela swung her feet back to the coffee table,
resting them right next to Geralds so he couldnt avoid looking down the length of her
shapely young legs, and she sat very close, their bodies touching from their legs all the
way to their shoulders. She felt Gerald tense-up, and asked half-heartedly, "Am I too
close?"
Just as he was about to answer she leaned forward and yelled, "First down! Wooooooo!"
and grabbed a Frito and scooped up some salsa. "Want one?" she asked turning her head
to him. Gerald took a deep breath. "Sure. Thanks," he said, grateful she had been
distracted by the football game…from whatever game it was she was playing with him.
Angela brought the salsa-laden chip toward his mouth, holding it with her inch-long
purple-polished fingernails. Gerald reached for it but Angela pulled it back. "Its gonna
fall in your lap!" she giggled and brought it toward his mouth again and commanded,
"Open!" Gerald laughed nervously and opened his mouth a little. "Wide!" she chided.
Gerald opened his mouth further and she put the Frito on his tongue. He felt the
sharpness of her nails touch his lips. Gerald blushed and hastily chewed and swallowed
the salsa chip. "Wanna lick my nails off?" she whispered. "What?!" he exclaimed in a
raspy whisper. "I know you want to. Go ahead, its ok. I wont tell," she said. "Angela,
I…," he hesitated, and in that instant Angela licked her own nails clean, sucking and
withdrawing them slowly through her tender young lips. "You have no idea what you
just missed out on," she said with a raise of her dark sculpted eyebrows, leaving Gerald to
ponder the extent of her meaning.
"My my, arent you two a cozy pair!" Jamie said from the doorwayin a joking way, but
Gerald imagined he heard suspicion. He went cold with fear and then hot with guilt, but
Angela calmly put her arms around him and said, "Your dad is awesome!" "Hes all
yours," Jamie kidded. "If only! I totally want him!" Angela exclaimed. Jamie just rolled
her eyes and chuckled and she turned and left. "I totally want you," Angela whispered in
Geralds ear, touching him with her lips and buffetting him with her hot breath, and she
let
her long fingernails stroke his arm. He drew a deep breath and exclaimed in a harsh
whisper, "Angela, do you know what thats doing to me?!" She smiled her coquettish
smile and said, "I know what I hope its doing to you. Lets check…" Before Gerald
could blink, he felt Angelas hand in his lap. "My God! Stop!" he gasped and grabbed
her wrist. But Angela cupped her fingers around his package so he couldnt take her
hand away. He felt the impression of her long fingernails on his nutsack and through the
layers of his clothing she stroked the top of his obviously-hard cock with the side of her
thumbnail. Gerald began to pant and whimper, and Angela put her face in his neck and
began depositing little wet kisses. "I bet I know what youd like," she whispered. She
put one leg over his and hooked her long thumbnail behind the elastic waist of his
sweatpants and began to worm her pinkie down into his briefs. "Wait!" Gerald gasped.
He jumped when he felt her scrape the edge of her very long pinkie nail along his erect
dick. "Careful. My nail is really sharp. You wouldnt want me to scratch you," she
whispered as she kissed up the side of his neck to his ear, where she stopped and asked
impishly, "Or would you?" Gerald started to pant heavily, and Angela laughed. "I bet
youve never had someone jerk you with just her fingernail," Angela said. Gerald had
never felt so torn between temptation and guilt, or so frustrated by his own morality. He
took a deep breath and held her wrist. "I cant let you," he sighed. "Ok. Whatever,"
Angela shrugged, and took her hand out of his pants. "Thank you," Gerald said with
relief, although he felt disappointed that shed given up so easily, and it made him feel all
the more guilty. Angela kneeled on the couch facing away from him, searching for
where her slippers had landed. Her pink soles were softly wrinkled, and she curled her
toes and Gerald could see the long white tips of her toenails. She leaned over the arm of
the couch to retrieve her fuzzy pink slippers, and her t-shirt rode up revealing her perfect
ass in a red silk thong. Angela reached back with one hand and slid an inch-long purple-
polished fingernail slowly along under her thong strap while she clenched her tight little
asscheeks. He gasped out loud, surprised and shocked by how strong was his primal
urge to grab her and fuck her. She turned her face back toward Gerald with that
coquettish smile, at which moment he understood clearly that Angela was not done with
him.
It took Gerald several minutes after Angela had left the room before his erection subsided
and he could go join the others in the kitchen, where his wife Marcia and daughter Jamie
were putting X-Mas cookies into the oven. Angela was sitting on a high stool next to the
kitchen island, with her long, shapely legs crossed, and making sure she had Geralds eye
but Marcia and Jamie werent watching, she smiled at Gerald with a look of unbridled
lust. She licked her tender young lips with the tip of her tongue at the same time she
clicked and skated her long fingernails against the granite countertop, and she stared
down at Geralds crotch, where an unmistakable bulge had grown inside his sweatpants.
"Are you ok Gerald?" Marcia asked when her husband suddenly turned and fled. "Im
fine," his voice trailed off down the hall. "Itll be a while before dinner," Marcia said to
the girls, "You two should go sit in the living room and enjoy the X-Mas tree." Jamie
and Angela nodded and left the kitchen.
"Youre so lucky," Angela sighed, poking one of the tree ornaments with a long
fingernail to make it spin. "You never had a X-Mas tree?" Jamie asked. Angela sighed,
"I mean, your entire life." She wandered over to the hearth, where the glowing embers of
a log crackled in the fireplace, and stroked her long nails down the stockings that were
thumbtacked to the mantlepiece. "As you can see, my parents still think I believe Santa
Claus is gonna come down the chimney," Jamie laughed. "Santa never came down my
chimney," Angela sighed wistfully. "Who knows, maybe he will tonight," Jamie said
taking Angela in a warm embrace. "Thank you so much for bringing me home with
you," Angela said nuzzling her face in Jamies hair. "Like I wouldve left you to spend
X-Mas all alone!" Jamie exclaimed. "Youre the best friend ever," Angela said,
scratching Jamies back slowly. "That feels incredible!" Jamie sighed, then she asked
shyly, "Can you do it a little harder?" "Sure!" Angela replied brightly and complied with
Jamies request. "Ohhhhhhh! Your nails are amazing!" Jamie drawled. At that moment
Gerald walked into the living room, having finally lost his erection and regained his
composure. "Oh my god, Dad, you totally have to let Angela give you a back scratch!
Her nails are beyond belief!" Jamie exclaimed. "Uh…thats ok," Gerald said anxiously.
"I mean it! Seriously!" Jamie said grabbing her father by the arm and guiding him onto
the sofa and making him lie on his stomach, and Angela kneeled by his side and spread
her hands over his back. "Enjoy!" Jamie giggled and she trotted away toward the stairs.
"Wait! Where are you going?" Gerald cried. "To the bathroom!" Jamie said with
annoyance, "Youre in good hands. Go ahead, Angela, do my dad!" "I hope to," Angela
said under her breath as she began slowly raking her long fingernails up and down, and
when she heard his muffled moans of pleasure she leaned over Gerald and deposited a
trail of warm, wet kisses on the back of his neck. "Are my nails getting you hot?" she
asked in a sexy whisper, "Im getting really hot."
"Angela you have to stop!" Gerald implored her. "Do I?" she asked, and she turned her
hands and thrust them into his sweatpants and grasped both his asscheeks, which made
him immediately clench up. "You have a hard butt!" she exclaimed softly, digging in her
long nails. "Such a hard butt!" she repeated, raking her nails over his taut muscles.
Angela suddenly slid both hands under him and her fingers found his cock. Gerald
flipped quickly onto his back and held her wrists. They both stared momentarily at the
obvious tent his erection made in his sweatpants, and Angela gave him her coquettish
smile. "I can fix that for you," she whispered, and she leaned forward and nuzzled his
bulge with her chin while she stared into his eyes. With both his hands occupied holding
Angelas wrists, Gerald was powerless to stop her, and the sensation was driving him
mad. She smiled at him and brought her open mouth toward the tent. "No!" Gerald
gasped hoarsely. Angela giggled and grasped his bulge with her teeth and began slowly
going up and down. He could feel her teeth scraping his cock through his clothing and
driving him uncontrollably toward climax. "Stop it Angela!" he pleaded in a hoarse
whisper, and let go of her wrists to grab her head and pull her off him. Instantly she
snaked both her hands down into his sweatpants. "Youre so huge!" she exclaimed in a
whisper, all ten of her delicate fingers wrapped around his throbbing cock and sliding
lightly up and down. Gerald grabbed her wrists but when he tried pulling her hands out
of his pants, ten sharp long fingernails pricked his cock. "I have you captured," Angela
said with her coquettish smile, "I win." "Im begging you not to do this to me," Gerald
said seriously. "Beg me some more. It really gets me hot," she said scraping his shaft
teasingly with her long fingernails. "I dont want this," he protested meekly. "It sure
feels like you do," Angela laughed, continuing to stroke his cock with her long nails.
"You love the feel of my long, sharp fingernails all over your hard cock," Angela purred
softly. She cupped his nutsack with one hand and, feeling it grow tight she whispered, "It
feels like youre about to cum. Are you? Go ahead, let it go. Cum all over my long, sexy
fingernails. Then Ill let you watch while I lick my nails clean." "Oh, God," Gerald
gasped weakly, feeling himself beginning to cum.
"Hey mom, how soon is dinner?" Jamie yelled from the top of the stairs. "Stop!" Gerald
gasped to Angela, struggling to sit up. But instead of stopping, Angela jerked him
furiously, going faster and faster as they heard Jamies footsteps get louder. But Gerald
went soft from terror, and Angela took her hands out of his pants just as Jamie came
around into the living room. "So, dad, does Angela have great hands or what?" Jamie
giggled. Seeing his wild-eyed stare, Jamie looked at Angela and laughed, "My dad
speechless! Thats a first!" Then Jamie turned and ran to the kitchen and her mother,
repeating her question as to when dinner would be ready. Gerald sat up and took Angela
firmly by the shoulders. "You will not lay a finger on me the rest of the time youre here.
Do you understand?" he said sternly. Angela looked down contritely and nodded, and
Gerald released her from his grasp. As they stood up, Angela scratched him teasingly
underneath his wrist and he glared angrily at her. "You said finger, not finger-nail,"
Angela smiled her coquettish smile. "Or toes," she whispered softly slipping her bare
foot under his cuff, caressing his leg, and scratching at his ankle, "Or toenails." Quickly
becoming aroused against his will, an exasperated Gerald demanded, "What is it you
want from me?!" Angela smiled that sexy smile and replied, "Oh, I think you know what
I want." "Its not going to happen," he said authoritatively. Angela smiled. "Oh, it is. It
always does," she said, giving his ass a playful rake with her inch-long fingernails, "But
please dont stop resisting. It makes it so much hotter that way."
Gerald barely touched his dinner, prompting Marcia to ask several times if he was feeling
ill. After several times that Angela rubbed her toes up his leg under the table and
scratched him teasingly with her long toenails, Gerald finally said he thought he might be
coming down with something and excused himself to go upstairs to bed. It was a perfect
way for him to get away from Angela without Marcia and Jamie being angry with him for
being antisocial. The three women spent the rest of the evening gossiping, until they all
decided they were exhausted and went to bed. Marcia tried to be as quiet as she could,
but the gentle shake of the bed woke Gerald up, and having gone to sleep much too early,
the smell of his wifes night cream kept him from falling back to sleep long enough that
he realized he was wide awake. Furthermore, the continual arousal hed been subjected
to all day had left him in serious need of release. He quietly got up and tiptoed to the
door, and he cautiously looked and listened. Seeing that there was no light coming from
under the girls bedroom doors, he silently went downstairs. Gerald went to the kitchen
and poured himself a large glass of wine, and he crept to the den and locked the door
behind him. There was just enough light from the clock on the TV cable box that he
could see to set the wine glass on the coffee table, and he settled back on the couch and
turned the TV on to an adult channel with the volume muted, and he put his hand down
into his pajamas. Gerald heard a quiet laugh, and he went white with terror. He turned to
his side and saw Angela lying on her side on the other couch, her red silk kimono draped
seductively over the sexy curves of her body. "What kept you?" she asked.
"What are you doing here?" Gerald whispered. "Waiting for you," she replied. "You
have to leave!" he said. "Why? Are you embarrassed to jerk off with me watching?" she
asked innocently. "I want you to leave!" Gerald repeated. "No," Angela said stubbornly.
"Ok then Ill leave," Gerald said starting to get up. "I promise, no funny stuff," Angela
said. Gerald settled back on the couch. "Ok, but you have to stay there on that couch,"
Gerald said. "Fine, whatever," Angela said with a hint of annoyance. Gerald reached for
the remote. "You can leave the porn on. Im not a child," she said. "Just the same," he
said, and changed the channel. "Can I have some of your wine?" Angela asked. Gerald
frowned. "Im not a minor!" she exclaimed, "Anyway all I want is a sip." Gerald held
the glass out to her. Her inch-long purple-polished fingernails scraped lightly against his
hand as she took the wine, and she clicked them against the glass while she took a sip.
"Im sorry for earlier," she said. "Its X-Mas, youre forgiven," Gerald smiled.
"Thanks," Angela smiled. She stretched one leg out in front of her and slid both hands
slowly from her ankle up to her thigh, gliding her long nails lightly over her skin. "Does
my foot look swollen to you?" she asked. "I dont know," he replied taking a gulp of
wine. "It looks swollen to me," she insisted, extending her foot toward him "Massage it
for me?" she asked sweetly. "Angela, you promised…" Gerald reminded her. "Fine. Ill
do it myself," she huffed. Angela grasped her foot and began to knead it with her fingers.
"My feet are really soft by the way," she said. Gerald smiled uneasily. "Really, Im not
lying," Angela insisted, "Guys tell me I have the softest feet theyve ever felt." "I believe
you," Gerald said. Angela swept back her shimmering dark hair with one long-nailed
hand and extended her foot toward him. "Just feel it for a second," she pleaded. "Fine,"
Gerald said and briefly touched the sole of her foot with the tips of his fingers. "Not like
that!" she laughed, "Like this!" and she grasped his hand and wrapped his fingers around
her foot. Gerald felt her warm, soft foot and sighed. "See, nothing bad happened,"
Angela said with a smile. Gerald could feel his dick stir and let her foot slip out of his
grasp. "Would you like to suck my toes? I want you to," Angela said.
"Im not going to suck your toes," Gerald stated firmly. "But youd like to," she
observed with that coquettish smile. "Angela…," he sighed. "I dont know what the big
deal is," she said, "I suck them all the time. Watch…" And she grasped her foot and
brought it to her face, licked it slowly from heel to toe, and began sucking her toes slowly
and sensuously, all the time keeping her eyes trained on Geralds. The sight of her
unbelievable flexibility, and the pink tenderness of her wrinkled soles and soft young
toes was driving Gerald wild, as was the juicy sound it made when she sucked her big
toe, and her pleasured cooing. "Just one taste," she said almost in a whisper, gracefully
extending her foot toward him spreading her toes, "Its X-Mas." Gerald was too much
aroused to ponder what X-Mas had to do with it, and as if some puppetmaster had
attached strings to his wrists, he found himself taking Angelas delicate foot in his hands
and extending his tongue. "That felt really nice," she said softly after he covered her big
toe with his mouth and withdrew it with a little slurp. Gerald raised his eyes to hers with
apprehension. "Know what else feels good? Licking your tongue under my toes,"
Angela said. Gerald rolled his eyes. "Really. Just do that and I wont ask for more," she
promised. Gerald sighed and ran his tongue slowly across the underneath of her silky-
soft toes. He could feel his dick growing hard and felt a pang of guilt, but before he
could pull away Angela curled her toes and he felt the sharpness of her long toenails
against his tongue. It was a sensation hed never felt before, one so unique and
pleasurable he couldnt tear himself away no matter how much his brain told him to.
"Arent my toenails on your tongue an amazing feeling!" Angela exclaimed, "I love that
feeling. Dont you? I dont know why exactly. Maybe its how incredibly soft my toes
are…and then my toenails are hard and sharp. Whatever, its unbelievably hot isnt it!"
Gerald tried to will himself not to be aroused, and he groped for words to say. But in the
blink of an eye Angela was kneeling on the couch next to Gerald and she stroked the
length of his arm with her long, purple-polished fingernails and brought his hand to her
mouth and sucked his thumb noisily. "You promised!" Gerald said in quiet terror.
"Promises are made to be broken," Angela said, slurping his thumb again and kissing the
side of his hand. "Stop it! Stop now!" Gerald rasped. Angela straddled his lap. She
shrugged her silk kimono off her shoulders and thrust her chest forward. "Do you like
my boobs?" she asked. Gerald gaped at them. They were magnificent, like twin orbs,
just the perfect size, high, firm and with huge dark areolas and large, erect nipples. "You
dont think theyre too small?" Angela enquired, cupping them with her fingers. Gerald
saw each of her ten inch-long fingernails indenting her soft breasts, and then she began to
fondle her nipples. "N-no, theyre p-perfect," he gulped. "Are you talking about my
boobs…or my long fingernails?" Angela asked coyly. "B-both…I guess," Gerald said
meekly. Angela laughed, "Yes, they are perfect, arent they," and took Geralds hands
and placed them at her waist, on the curve of her hips, and then she guided him around to
the small of her back and down onto her ass. "Hold me," she commanded in a sultry
voice. "Angela, we cant," he protested weakly even as he caressed her unbelievably-soft
young skin. "I wont tell anyone," she said. Gerald said, "Even so, Ill know. The guilt
would destroy me." "Ok, whatever. We dont have to go all the way," Angela said as she
undid the buttons of his pajama shirt and spread her hands on his chest. "You dont
understand, it isnt like its not cheating just because we dont actually have sex," Gerald
explained. "Shhh," Angela hushed him gently as she traced her inch-long purple-
polished thumbnails around and around his nipples, "My nails feel sooooo good dont
they. My loooonnnng, gorgeous nails." She slowly and lightly glided her fingernails up
to his collarbone and across to his bare shoulders, and then around his back. She
scratched her nails sensuously up the sides of his neck, then caressed his cheeks and
combed through his hair letting her nails scrape against his scalp, as she leaned her body
closer to him. Gerald felt her nipples touch him, then her warm breasts pressed tightly
against him. He felt her nails lightly scratch the back of his neck, he saw her eyes closing
and her lips parting, her wet pink tongue slowly advancing. "Its…its…just…" he
babbled. "Its just one kiss," she whispered, and then he felt her tender young lips on his
and her hot tongue slither inside his mouth.
Gerald felt Angela undulate her crotch against his dick which was tenting up inside his
pajamas, and he broke free of her kiss in terror. But the sight of her half-closed eyes and
half-open mouth, and her inch-long purple-polished fingernails eager to caress his face
sapped his will and compelled him to welcome her tongue again. Immediately this time
Angela began again to grind her crotch slowly against the bulge in his pajamas, but he
couldnt will himself to stop her. Angela backed away gently from their passionate kiss
and slid back a few inches. "Im really making a mess arent I," she said drawing his
gaze down to his lap where they both saw that she had soaked Geralds pajamas with her
juices. "Shit," Gerald muttered. "Its cos I want you so bad," she said, scratching her
long fingernails down his arms and leaving wet, sucking kisses on his Adams apple.
"Angela! You have to stop! Please!" Gerald begged. "Hold me just once more," she
whispered in his ear, leaning close to him, scratching her long fingernails on the opposite
side of his neck. Geralds hands moved as if they had their own mind, up her back,
caressing her smooth, soft, warm skin, feeling her spine and her shoulder blades ripple
under his touch. With a feather-light touch Angela unbuttoned his pajama bottoms and in
a fraction of a second he felt Angelas nails stroke up his cock and her hot pussy slip
down over it and constrict tightly. "Oh God," he whispered just before Angelas steamy
kiss overwhelmed his senses.
Angela rode him leisurely, kissing him, sucking his neck, licking his ears, and scratching
him sensuously with her inch-long purple-polished nails. She scratched her thumbnails
slowly down his sides, slid her hands around his waist and scratched her fingernails
slowly up his back; turned them and scratched back down again, then her thumbnails
back up his sides. Over and over again slowly, in cadence with the undulating of her
hips. "You loooove my nails, I can tell. And its got me soooo hot!" she whispered, and
Gerald felt her pussy tighten around his cock like a fist. Angela stroked a single inch-
long fingernail down his cheek and said, "I want you on top of me." Without letting
Gerald out of her Angela slithered down on her back and wrapped her legs around him,
thrusting her pelvis against him. "Fuck me as hard as you can," she gasped breathlessly.
Gerald began thrusting forcefully. Angela bit his earlobe and whispered, "Harder! Dont
worry I wont break." Gerald started to piston himself against her, and she moaned,
"Yeah, thats it! Oh my God! Yessss!" Angela raked his back hard with her fingernails
and Gerald reeled from the sudden burn. Again she clawed his back and he groaned.
Angela slowed down to a more leisurely pace and Gerald followed her lead. "I came,"
Angela whispered, "…in case you couldnt tell." Gerald looked at her with a frantic
expression. Angela laughed, "Dont worry, Im not done. Im multi-orgasmic." And she
pulled herself up and gave him a hot, smothering kiss, during which she bit his lip and
dug her long fingernails into his upper back for several moments before relaxing with a
sigh and whispered, "See. That was another one."
"I can do something I know nobody else ever did to you," Angela said while they
continued to fuck slowly. He felt her press the soles of her feet against his asscheeks.
"Hmm," Gerald said, amazed at her remarkable flexibility. "Thats not it yet!" Angela
said, "This is it…" "Oh God!" Gerald gasped as Angela curled her toes and began to
scratch his asscheeks with her toenails. "Thats another reason I keep them so long,"
Angela said, then she gasped, "Ohhhh! Fuck! You reaaalllly like me scratching you with
my toenails dont you! Shit! It feels like your dick just doubled in size!" Angela
scratched his ass faster and harder with her long toenails and started thrusting urgently.
Gerald began going at it like a locomotive, hard and furiously. Angela pulled her legs
back and grabbed Geralds face between her feet, and he sucked and licked her long
toenails with vengeance while he kept pounding her. She clawed her long toenails down
his sides and wrapped her legs around him, and she dug her inch-long purple-polished
fingernails into his shoulders and pistoned her hips to meet his frenzied thrusting. Gerald
was quickly becoming exhausted. The thirty year age difference and too much couch-
time made him no match for an eighteen year-old nymphet. He was gasping for breath
and he felt like his heart was going to explode any second. "Im sorry, I have to slow
down" he wheezed. "Nuh-uh!" Angela giggled, and she put her hand between their
crotches and let her inch-long fingernails scrape lightly against Geralds dick as it went in
and out of her pussy. "Jesus!" he gasped at the sensation which was erotic like nothing
hed ever experienced before. "Long fingernails are really amazing arent they!" Angela
said as she felt him grow harder and begin to pound her faster again. "I want us to cum
together ok?" she sighed. In moments Gerald exploded, his mind conjuring up the image
of a mushroom cloud from a nuclear bomb as he shot again and again, numb to the
savage raking Angela was doing to his back with her long fingernails while she had her
final and biggest orgasm.
Geralds lungs couldnt expand enough to satisfy his need for oxygen, yet Angela wasnt
even breathing hard. "Was I ok?" she asked sincerely. Gerald looked at her incredulous.
"Ok?!" he gasped, "Youre…incredible!" "So are you," Angela said. Suddenly Gerald
sat up. "Oh God, what have I done?" he gasped, looking away from her. "Whatever you
did, I want to do it again!" Angela whispered, turning to kiss him. "No! I wont! It cant
happen again. Never!" he vowed. "Awesome," Angela smiled her coquettish smile.
Gerald looked puzzled at her reaction. "Most times with older married guys who resist
like you, once weve done it they suddenly get all infatuated and start to pursue
me…which is, like, a major creep-out. But youre even more determined to resist me!
OMG, thats sooooo hot! This is gonna be, like, the funnest X-Mas vacation ever!"
Gerald just lay there shocked and speechless. Angela swept back her long, shimmering
dark hair and slowly eased her perfect young body into her red silk kimono. "Nighty-
night…and thanks for an amazing time," she whispered, giving Gerald a wet kiss on his
cheek. She gave his back a gentle stroke with her long nails and he winced. "Hmmm,"
she said leaning him forward and examining his back, and with a little laugh, "You dont
want your wife to see those scratches, trust me."
X-Mas morning Jamie knocked on Angelas bedroom door and shouted, "Hey sleepy-
head! Get up and come downstairs!" Angela opened the door slowly, dressed in old
plaid flannel pajamas and her pink fuzzy slippers, with her hair hastily fastened up in
pigtails. She plodded and stumbled as Jamie all but dragged her downstairs by the hand.
Gerald and Marcia were sitting at opposite ends of the sofa sipping coffee, and when
Angela glanced at Gerald he looked away and said nothing. "Gerald! Say good morning
and Merry X-Mas!" Marcia scolded him, and she turned to Angela and apologized,
"Jamies dad is not a morning person." "Its ok. Me neither," Angela replied with a
stretch and a yawn. "We waited for you before opening presents!" Jamie exclaimed.
"Why?" Angela asked. "Because. Here," Jamie grinned, handing Angela a large box
wrapped in green foil with a large red bow. Tears streamed down her beautiful young
cheeks as Angela clawed the wrapping paper off with her inch-long fingernails. Inside
was a white box, filled with bottles of nail polish. "OMG, this is like the most expensive
brand there is! And there must be dozens of bottles!" Angela shrieked, digging through
the box. Jamie smiled and giggled, "See, Santa Claus did come down your chimney last
night!" "Oh yes, he definitely did," Angela said flashing her coquettish smile at Gerald.
-
The Night Shift
The Night Shift
It was fast apprroaching midnight as Don rode the elevator to the sixty ninth floor where her penthouse office was. He had been transfered to the night shift as a security gaurd. He had previously worked the day shift when he first seen her. Her name was Candice Monet and she was the Vice President CEO in charge of Brandon Industries an upcoming giant in the pharmecutical industry. At thirty eight years of age she was one of the most powerful women in the sometimes dog eat dog world of coorporate power. When Don worked days he would make sure he was at her private parking garage to escort her to the private elevator which lifted this Goddess to to her office where she was in charge of 2500 peoples lives that worked for her. She never once said a word to Don as she was escorted upward by him. She never smiled either. He did not mind, all he really cared about was what would she wear each day. Mz. Monet dressed to kill always! She always wore six inch or better spiked heels, low cut blouses, seamed stockings and of course her long black wavey hair which was always in full bloom. Her most capturing attribute was however her long 3 inch fingernails which looked like they were sharp enough to rip a man's heart out. Don remebered once how a subservient of Mz. Monet's spoke out of turn on the way up the elevator and how she made him kiss her heels or be fired. This was the only time she had ever acknowledged Dons exsistance by looking down at him with her dark brown eyes and smiling at him as her heels were being kissed by her aide.
She made three million dollars a year and she was definantly a Femme Fatal in charge of all around her.
Don got off on floor sixty nine which was her's alone. he had often wondered why she had requested that he walk her floor at least twice a night to make sure all was well, he had never seen her there at night and did not see the purpouse in doing this. She had conveyed this via the security company Don worked for, and they of course passed this on to Don. The entire floor was her's with only one door that led to her inner office. Don had never seen the inside of her office it was the only key he did not have to this building. Every night it was the same thing, nobody home and he went to lunch at midnight.
As Don walked down the corridor he was stopped dead in his tracks as he looked down and seen that the lights were on in her office. His heart was racing and he felt weak in the knees. He wondered if it was her and if so what was she doing there at this time of the night.
Before he could act, the door opened and there she stood looking at him. Don knew better than to speak to her unless she spoke first, so he just stood there and waited nervously as she penetrated his soul with her deep, dark, evil eyes. Finally she smiled and said please join me tonight. Don anwsered Yes Mz. Monet..as you wish.
As Don folowed the tall Goddess into the room the sound of her high six inch heels amplified across the hardwood floor. The office was magnificent. It had works of art that must have cost a fortune, a wet bar, a jaccuzzi and an area with fitness equipment and mats. There were only two doors in the office besides the entry door and Don wondered what might lie behind them as the sexy Goddess told him to sit down. Mz. Monet walked over to the wet bar and then returned with two large glasses full of scotch and ice cubes.
She was dressed not only in the black six inch spikes, she also had on a short leather mini-dress that was low cut exposing her large 35d breasts, and it was strapless exposing her muscular yet feminine arms and long neck. Her long black hair was curled this night and her lips were painted red, as were her fingernails, which looked like bloody daggers painted red with the glisten of the soft lighting the office offered on this late night. She had no stockings on and her legs were long and tone as Don admired her on her way to sit down. Mz. Monet had high cheek bones which added to her evil yet sexy look, and her lips were very full. Don wondered what she had in mind.
Let us drink to what the night may have to offer us Donald Edward Ross, said Cadice Monet to her awstruck companion. She lifted her glass and took down a sizable ammount of expensive scotch. Don took a small drink and said....What does this night have to offer Mz. Monet. Well Donald, she said, How is your daughter in Toronto and mother doing, I know everything about you. I know that you were once convicted of battery on a police officer...how did you manage to keep that hidden from the security firm that hired you to work here for me.....I also know that you were once a memeber of an outlaw motorcycle gang back in the late seventies. For a guy of forty-four you have really cleaned up your act.
Donald did not like that she knew his secrets and he confronted her by saying..That's not too cool spying on me Candice Monet. Candice then said...Well it doesn't really matter as I fucking own you now anyway..you are mine slave. She then leaned back crossed her long sexy legs and lit up a medium sized cigar and took a huge drag and then blew smoke towrds Donald's face. He was angry and said ...you do not own me! I could kick your ass in a heartbeat bitch! That angered Candice beyond beleif as she stood up and said..Go For It and see how inferior you are to me slave.
Donald no longer cared about laying the bitch..he just wanted to tear her face off and then get the fuck out of dodge before she sicked her goons on him.
He stood up and walked towards her. When he was close enough to throw a punch he drew back and let it fly towards her face. Just before the punch connected, she stepped to the side and grabbed his right wrist with her left hand, pulling it so that she was behind him. Before he could react, she had him in a deadly choke hold in which she used her right arm to push the left arm deep into his throat cutting off the air supply. She was nine inches taller than him in her heels and she had the leverage to use as well. He fought desperatly against the Bitch Goddess, but before long he was out cold from no air.
When donald came to he was bound to a metal table that lie in an adjacent room to the office. His arms and legs were spread apart and chained. He could smell her cigar but could not see her. Just about that time he heard a familiar sound....clickity clock...... clickity clock...he could her nearing him in what sounded like metal heels. The table had a metal bar positioned above it in the middle and Candice in a pair of six inch black stilettos that donned golden metal heels appeared above him at the side of the table. She was out of the mini-dress now and only had on the heels, a black leather collar, leather wristbands with studs and of course the three inch long daggers that were painted red.
She looked down at her prey and said...You will call me Mistress Candice from now on slave is that understood...don replied fuck you !!!
What a mistake he made as she took her cigar and pushed it onto his balls and said answser me properly and I will remove the cigar from the cock I now own. After about 30 seconds he cried out Mistress Candice pleaseeeeeeee stop..pleaseeeee......!!!
Ohh much better slave you are a fast learner ya seeeee....little ol me take fire off balls now........
donald was in fear for his life now and had no idea what she might do to him so he thought he would play along and maybee she would let him go later on that night. Mistress Candice took her long right index nail and lightly ran it across his face, over his eyes....his forehead......his lips.......and then his chin....., she took the butt of the still lit cigar and put it out on his chin as he screamed in pain, and before he could stop screaming she stuffed it in his mouth and said.....swallow slave..swallow my fucking butt now!!! don tried but was having trouble swallowing the butt this angered her and she took her five long deadly nails and raked them across his chest leaving a trail of blood. He still could not swallow it and she moved down to his burned balls and with her thumb and index nail she started pinching very hard on the burn. That was enough for don to get the butt into his stomach and then she stopped pinching and said......Good little slave now you have had your lunch and we can get to some real pain now. No sooner said than done Mistress Candice grabbed the bar above the table and hoisted herself onto it placing a heel into don's face. She started pressing hard and he could feel the skin breaking as he screamed aloud. She pressed slow and before long he could feel the heel scraping his cheekbone..this had to be the ultimate in torture he thought as she stood above him laughing and fingering her shaved twat as she came and filled the room with the smell of hot pussy. After she came she got back to floor level and said donnie slave boy...Ya know what my favorite hoiliday is huh?? He could not anwser his face hurt too bad. I asked you a question slave now answer me!! He mumbled out Halloween Mistress..She replied no no no..The fourth of July idiot..and later on you will know why as she laughed and moved towrds his stomach area and sat her ass down just below his gut.
As she sat there she looked down at him and said....You see worm..I own what I want and I do what I want to, to what I own..I own you and I will punish you for being here tonight, when I was here...no more, no less !
She then took her ten long nails and slowely pressed them into don's abdomen. Within a matter of ten minutes they were buried two inches deep into his gut and the pain was worse than anything she had done yet. She wiggled them as she humped up and down to orgasm couple of times and the more he cried in pain the more turned on she became. Blood was oozing out of the wounds and donald feared he would bleed to death soon which would not really be a bad alternative at this time he thought.
Mistress Candice said I know you wanted to fuck me, and so you shall, but first I must finish preparing you for that. By the way no man has ever fucked my twat with a cock and you will not be the first just so you know that! Your tounge is what you will fuck me with and before I allow that I must detooth you. donald knew the worst was still to come after hearing the detooth remark and he begged her to kill him..she just laughed and said.....never slave!
Mistress Candice soon returned with a pair dentists pliers and while sitting on don's chest she began to pull his teeth out one by one. It took her about twenty minutes to pull all of the teeth and she came all over don's chest as she did this to him.
don was now close to passing out and he hoped this was all she could do because he knew his heart was now close to stopping from the pain and just wanted to die before she could pleasure herself again.
Mistress Canidce, stood at the side of the table and said..well..I am gonna fuck you know slave.....she lit another cigar and sat on his bloody and swollen mouth.....her asshole was on his nose, and her shaved wet twat on his mouth. As she settled in her one hundred and fortyfive pound structure don's face was amplified in pain and his head jerked as she said...Liiiicccckkkk slave. don could not lick and that angered her..she then said..well....time for the fourth of July fireworks now....that should make you lick slave. Mistress Candice pulled a sparkler out of a box beside her and lit it with her cigar. She stuffed the sparkler into one of the ten holes she had made in don's gut with her nails, it was about an inch from burning into his gut. Within a matter of minutes she lit sparklers and put them in all ten holes and she then lit the last one and said.......One for the ol flagpole donnie slave...She stuck the last sparkler intio the shaft of his cock about one eigth of an inch from burning into his shaft...oddly enough all the sparklers were about an eigth of an inch from burning inside his body..almost as though she had planned it that way.
Just as they started to burn inside his cock and gut she ripped her claws into his male chest and gripped tight...don started jerking and screaming like crazy as his cock shaft and the inside of his gut were being fried by childrens sparklers. She rode hard on his face as he jerked and screamed having an orgasm to beat all that preceeded her this evening.
The next day Mz. Monet called her aide into her office and said.....Call the security firm and have them send over a new man. I was here last night and I noticed that Don left early...He's fired!!! Get me a new man for the night shift now!!!!
Yes Mz. Monet right away said the aide. Candice thought to herself.....that vat of acid in the lab sure does wonders for a gal getting rid of a body as she sat back and lit a cigar..........
-
THE PLOT
THE PLOT
Of course some long-nailed ladies have figured out rather intuitively that I have an
attraction to long finger- and toenails, but it remains a dark secret to most of the people
who know me well. Through no doing of mine, a few long-time mates do know.
Amongst those are my life-long mate Lewis and, through his maddening habit of
betraying everyones confidences to her, his wife Steffi. Steffi is somewhat rotund, and
she knew and resented that Ive never made a secret of prefering delicate, petite women
and in fact being quite unattracted to big women. Even long nails arent a mitigating
factor for me if they sprout from fat fingers or toes.
Lewis and Steffis first child was a girl, and I was named as their daughters godfather. I
came to guest in their home for the Christening which took place round the time of the
childs first birthday. Steffi informed me upon my arrival on Saturday morning that her
younger sister Daphne was to be godmother and would be arriving later that day.
"Daphne lives quite near you," Steffi informed me, "Youll probably be returning on the
same train on Monday." I vaguely recalled Daphne as a chubby little child, from the
brief time I saw her at Lewis wedding before I became inebriated, but I hoped that
perhaps Daphne wouldnt share her sisters weight issues, as I was rather bored with the
whole baby/godfather affair and wished the week-end might bring a little romance.
Lewis and Steffis home had two un-used bedrooms, each with an old four-post bed, and
which shared a common bath, and I was escorted to one and un-packed my things and
settled on the bed for a bit of a nap. I awoke to hear my name being called and stumbled
half-asleep to the kitchen from which the voices arose. "Meet my little sister Daphne,"
Steffi chirped. Little was clearly used in the figurative sense, as Daphne was anything
but. I said a polite hallo as Daphne stood with her back to me, cutting herself a slice of
cherry pie. By slice I am being quite charitable, as it was more nearly a third of the
entire pie. She scooped-up the entire piece with her hand and as she turned round she
took half of it in-to her mouth in a single bite. "Hmmpphhhmmm," she said with her
mouth full of pie, and in an instant shed swallowed it and said, "Sorry, I was about to die
of hunger if I didnt have something to eat straight-away." Daphne transferred the
remaining half of her piece of pie to her left hand and licked all the fingers and palm of
her right hand and thrust it toward me, still glistening from her saliva, and said "Hallo,
Im Daphne. Most pleased to meet you." "Daffy, wipe your bloomin hand," Steffi
scolded. Daphne looked at her annoyed, as younger siblings do, and with a grudging
sneer and a sheepish look, wiped her hand on the front of her dress.
As I shook her hand I finally came completely awake and for the first time took stock of
Daphne. She was more what one might call large-boned than fat. Her face was rather
round but not jowly, and she had long, thick black hair parted in the centre which framed
and slenderised her face, which was surprisingly lovely. Daphne had large, dark eyes
with perfectly-sculpted brows, and high cheekbones. Her mouth was symmetrical and
her lips were full and succulent-looking and she had perfect teeth and a warm, radiant
smile. Her shoulders and hips were at least twice as wide as the typical ladies I was
attracted to, and her arms and legs whilst substantial were porportioned and shapely, and
she did not appear to have any loose flabbiness whatsoever. My gaze travelled to her
outstretched hand, which was large but not thick. Her fingers likewise were large but not
fat or stubby, and her nail-beds were long and arched, not flat and wide, and each finger
ended in clean, un-varnished long nails of one-and-a-half to two centimeters. I took her
hand gently as I would any womans, but felt her grip tighten and as it did, so did mine.
That was fortunate because had I not tensed my grip I daresay Daphne mightve broken
my hand. "Oh, come here," she beckoned, pulling me toward her with enough force that
I lost my balance and fell against her, which despite me weighing about 100 kilos didnt
budge her at all. Meantime she wrapped her other arm round my back and gave me a
bear hug so intense that I couldnt draw breath.
"Daffy!" cried Steffi, "Oh my, look what youve done." I was perplexed momentarily,
and then realised shed squashed the remaining pie in her hand against the back of my
shirt. "Oh goodness!" cried Daphne, looking at the mess of pie in her hand. Quickly she
suctioned it in-to her mouth and licked her hand clean, then spun me round like a childs
top and began scraping the pie from my shirt with her long fingernails and licking it from
them. Daphne offered me her fingers, covered with cherry filling and bits of crust. "Have
some," she pleaded. Before I could politely refuse, she wiped her fingers across my
mouth, accidentally poking my lips and raking my chin with her long fingernails. I
yelped and put my hand to my mouth, and as I wiped and licked off the smear of pie,
Daphne exclaimed, "Oh my gosh, I scratched you." "Its all-right," I assured her, but she
brushed my hand away from my face and said, "Oh no, youre bleeding. My nails are
ridiculously sharp," and she continued, "here, let me make it better," and she clamped my
neck with one hand and gripped it like a vice whilst she slowly kissed my chin.
"Mmmm, I think I scratched your lip a little too," she cooed, her mouth moving toward
mine and her lips beginning to part. "Daffy!" cried her sister. "Oh, Steffi, you always
spoil my fun!" Daphne whinged, as she released her crushing hold on my neck and I
backed away. As I turned to head for the bedroom Steffi bade me take off my cherry-piestained
shirt so she could launder it before the stain became permanent, and I complied.
As I stood there momentarily, bare-chested, Daphne said in a stage-whisper to Steffi ,
"Oh my gosh! Hes yummy!" and then as I turned and walked down the hall-way, I
overheard her say in a feigned baby-voice, "can I have him, ay sis, can I please?"
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I went to put on a clean shirt for supper, but before doing so I decided to wash the sticky
pie residue from my face, and as well to examine what damage Daphne had done with
her long nails. There were three scratches on my chin and a small one on my upper lip
but only one had bled and the rest were simply red marks that were already beginning to
fade. As I stood there looking at myself in the mirror I heard the door-knob from the
adjoining bed-room turn and Daphne walked in wearing a pink terry-cloth robe. My eyes
naturally drifted to her feet, and was shocked to see that her un-varnished toenails were
very long and slightly but not unattractively thick, as if extremely strong. The nails on
her great toes were about a centimeter and a half long, and the rest varied from a half to a
centimeter. Seeing me looking at her feet Daphne wiggled her toes. "Ive been terribly
lazy about trimming my toenails," she mused, and added with a laugh, "I hope the sight
of them doesnt turn your stomach." "What? Oh, no, actually I…" I caught myself
almost about to reveal my attraction to long toenails! "Im going to take a shower before
supper," Daphne announced, and in a sultry voice added with a wink, "care to join me?"
as she let her robe fall to the floor. "Oh, ah, thats all-right, I think Ill shower later
and…" I stammered uneasily. "Whats the matter? Afraid the fat girl wont leave any
room for you?" she asked with bitterness. I was very flustered at that point, not knowing
what to say to not offend her, but just then she said, "too late lover, the offer has
expired." Seeing her completely nude, with her long, flowing black hair and gazing from
her long fingernails down her large but shapely legs to her long toenails had-much to
my surprise considering she was a big woman-got me quite aroused, and her withdrawal
of her invitation to shower with her only made me want her more.
We all sat down to supper and I never in my life saw two women eat so much food with
so much gusto. Daphnes definition of finger food extended fairly much to anything
that wasnt a liquid. She took huge bites, chewed noisily, and licked her fingers
continually. She also dislodged food from her teeth using her long fingernails. Steffi
shot her sister disapproving glances, which went ignored. I sat directly across from
Daphne and her eyes made frequent contact with mine, and after shed cleaned her plate
for the third time and drunk four glasses of wine, I saw her smile and felt the
unmistakable sensation of toenails on my shins. She bore a sultry stare in-to my eyes as
she scraped them up and down my legs, and I felt myself becoming more and more
aroused.
Steffi and Lewis cleared the plates, leaving Daphne and I alone at the table. Daphne
immediately placed one foot in my lap and began fondling the bulge in my trousers, and
lightly scraping it with her long toenails. I looked down and saw that up-close her foot
was much larger and her toenails much longer than theyd appeared when Id glanced at
them in the bath-room earlier. "Take it out," she cooed. My eyes widened and I grinned
nervously. I heard Steffi and Lewis rustling plates and it sounded as if they might return,
so I put my hand down to push her foot away, but she raised the other and caught my
hand between her feet. Her grip was vice-like and I could not move my hand, and her
long toenails were digging-in painfully. "Im quite strong," Daphne said softly, "all of
my muscles are powerful," she added with a wink, "ALL of them." And she released my
hand and resumed kneading and scraping me through my trousers with both feet. As I
rubbed the purplish indentations her toenails had left on my hand, Steffi and Lewis
returned. Lewis bore a tray with a bottle of brandy and four small snifters and a brass pot
of Turkish coffe and four tiny china cups. Steffi carried a large frosted chocolate cake
and four plates and silver, and announced, "Lets take our dessert in the parlour, shall
we?" whereupon Daphne quickly stood and answered, "Splendid!" and turning to me,
"Come along then, " fully aware that at that moment, standing would have been rather
embarassing for me. Somehow I managed to muddle about getting to my feet and
walked quickly past Lewis and Steffi with my back halfway toward them, as if I were
rushing to hold open the parlour door. "Nice cover-up!" Daphne whispered as she passed
me, and she gave me a quick pat between my legs that no-one saw.
We took our seats in the parlour, with Daphne at my side, and whilst Lewis poured the
coffee, Steffi set the cake and plates down on the low table. Daphnes hand immediately
shot forth and she sank her long fingernails in-to the cake and clawed out a large chunk
and took a large bite. "Good lord, Daffy!" Steffi screamed, "Youve the manners of a
wild animal." "Im like a wild animal in many ways," Daphne replied, turning and
staring straight in-to my eyes whilst she licked the chocolate from her lips. She scooped
a mound of chocolate frosting with the index-fingernail of her other hand and without
altering her smoldering stare she brought her frosting-covered finger to my lips and said,
"Taste." As if compelled, I obediently opened my mouth slightly and she inserted her
finger completely. I closed my lips round it and she slowly withdrew her finger, gently
scraping her long nail from the very back of my tongue and out through my lips. My
eyes still locked in her stare, I watched with fascination as she immediately put the same
finger deep in-to her own mouth and withdrew it sensuously, sucking and licking the
remaining frosting. "More?" Daphne asked in a soft purr. I couldnt speak, I simply
nodded. Daphne smiled with the confidence of someone who knew she was in complete
control, and brought another finger-full of chocolate to my lips. But as I began to open
my mouth, she leant over and I felt her warm, chocolate-scented breath as her parted lips
came within millimeters of mine, and I quivvered with desire and anticipation of her kiss.
"Daffy!" her sister shouted, "Youre amongst company!" Daphne retreated, casting
Steffi a resentful look, meanwhile I once again felt the frustration of un-fulfilled arousal
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toward this woman who was in most ways the antithesis of what had ever attracted me in
the past.
When we finished the brandy it was quite late and we all decided to repair to our beds.
Lewis and I walked from the parlour first and Daphne helped Steffi collect the soiled
plates and glasses, and I could hear them arguing in a whisper but I couldnt make out
what they were saying, until Daphne gushed, "But hes so pretty!" and Steffi retorted,
"He doesnt fancy us large women," which silenced Daphne, and she edged past me in
the hall-way without speaking or looking at me. "It isnt true," I said softly as she
stopped in front of the door to her bed-room. Daphne looked up at me with a look that
fell somewhere between hope and despair. "That is, well, it may have been true before,"
I continued, "but its like, I wouldnt ever touch kidney pie either, until one time my
mum tricked me in-to tasting it and it was ever-after a favourite of mine." Daphne
replied sarcastically, "Why, youre a real charmer arent you? No better way to comfort
the fat girl than with an analogy to food." I gasped and stammered and stuttered, "No, I
didnt mean…that is, that wasnt what I was trying to…." A smile gradually broke
across her face and I realised shed had me with her wit, which made me want her all the
more. We took a step toward one another and I took her hands in mine. "You know I
might break you in two like a dry branch, dont you?" Daphne asked in a concerned tone.
"A risk Im most eager to assume," I responded, and she slid her arms round me and our
eyes closed and our lips drew near. Just at that moment Steffi came up the hall-way and
snapped, "Daffy! Have some respect for the sanctity of our home, wont you?" Daphne
lowered her eyes and stepped away toward her bed-room door. "Sweet dreams," she said
to me, and looked at Steffi for her approving nod. And all of us retired to our bed-rooms
and closed the doors.
I un-dressed and donned my pajama-trousers and with tooth-brush in hand opened the
door to the bath-room. At the same moment the opposite door opened and Daphne
entered from her room. She was wearing a shimmering black lace-trimmed negligee, and
her long black hair hung loose, framing her dark, mesmerising eyes. Her luscious pink
lips glistened and I detected the faint scent of strawberries. My eyes quickly travelled
down her wide frame, past her large bosom and curvaceous hips and strong hands with
long un-varnished nails; down her long, stocky but shapely legs to her sizeable feet with
their very long toenails, and I was filled with lust. "Oh, sorry," I apologised, and in a
chivalrous gesture added, "After you." "No, you go ahead, Ill wait," she replied. "No, I
insist," I countered, holding up my tooth-brush, "I was merely going to do my teeth."
"Wouldnt you rather do mine?" Daphne said softly, rolling the tip of her tongue slowly
over her perfect white teeth and caressing my arm with her long nails. And in an instant
we flew together, me in her crushing embrace, with her strawberry-scented lips engulfing
mine and her tongue thrashing deep in my mouth. It felt as if she would devour me as a
piece of chocolate cake. "My room," she panted, "its farther from Steffis," and we
stumbled through the door-way, kissing and groping one-another. We stood near her bed
and I attempted to usher her on-to it, but it was like trying to move a marble statue.
Daphne put her arms round my back and giggled and thrust her hands in-to my pajamas,
pushing them down past my hips, whereupon she grabbed my arse with both hands and
sank her long fingernails in deeply. I gasped from the sudden, stabbing pain but I was
captive in her grip and couldnt move. Daphne kissed and licked and gently bit my neck
and whispered, "Mmmmm, yummy," and I felt her raise one leg up and with her toes she
frantically began clawing down my pajama-trousers, in the process scratching and
gouging my legs with her very sharp long toenails. My pajamas finally down round my
feet and her hands still clutching my arse in her talons, Daphne lifted me several
centimeters off the ground and kicked my pajamas away, then set me back down. She
lowered herself slowly, kissing and licking my chest and stomach as she descended. She
released my arse but only momentarily to change the position of her hands, then dug her
long fingernails in anew, whilst she squatted, her legs spread and her feet on top of mine
digging her long, sharp toenails in-to my ankles for balance. She looked at my aroused
manhood and then looked up at me hungrily for a brief moment before engulfing my
entire shaft in her mouth. I felt sudden, incredible suction and she moved her head away
from me and back toward me in a continuing rhythm, just slow enough that I couldnt
come. She would repeatedly lighten the grip of her fingernails on my arse and toenails
on my ankles, and then dig all of them in-to the same places again and again. Several
times she raked her long fingernails firmly down the backs of my thighs, and then sank
them in-to my arse again. I was captive in her painful, powerful grip and all I could do
was steady myself by holding on-to the top of her head and try to concentrate on the
ecstatic feeling of her hot mouth slowly stroking my shaft.
Abrubtly, Daphne stood up, withdrawing her long toenails from my ankles and releasing
my arse from the grip of her long fingernails. She put her hands softly on my shoulders
and kissed me sweetly, but suddenly she sank her long fingernails in as an eagle catching
its prey, and pushed down mightily. Her strength was unbelievable and she easily forced
me to my knees, as she sat down on the bed and spread her legs. Clasping her hands
behind my head she brought it forward. "Now do me," she said in a lust-filled voice as
she clamped my head between her thighs. Daphne moaned softly and gently raked my
scalp with her long nails. Her musky aroma was suffocating, and her juices flowed like a
fountain. She slipped her legs over my shoulders and moved her ample hips in waves,
grinding against my face, her thighs tightening against my head like steel jaws, and as she
orgasmed she fell backward and lifted me with her. My head felt as if she was going to
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remove it from my neck as a sommalier un-corks a bottle of Sauvignon. Suddenly, as her
orgasm passed, Daphne shoved me away from her and I landed on my already-sore arse
on the hard floor about a meter away from the bed. Daphne was lying on her back with
her knees bent, panting and sighing. I scrambled to my feet and as I approached her she
also was evidently attempting to stand, and as she kicked her legs forward she
accidentally swiped my stomach with her long toenails, causing several gashes that stung
and bled. We were both on our feet, and Daphne was genuinely apologetic, but I said
that perhaps we should rest for a bit. She wrapped her arms round me gently and we
shared a long, luxurious and tender kiss. But just then Daphne whispered, "The fat girl is
just getting started," and she tossed me on-to the bed like a rag doll. Climbing over me
she grabbed a large paper box that was on the table by the bedside, and sitting next to me
with her legs outstretched she placed the box in her lap and reached inside, withdrawing a
hand-ful of cold, greasy chips and shoving them in-to her mouth where she devoured
them ravenously. "Want some?" she asked. "Thank you, no," I replied politely, a bit
queasy from the aroma of stale chips. "That leaves more for me," she said cheerfully,
devouring another hand-ful. Daphne placed the box back on the table. Licking the
grease from her fingers she turned to me and asked with her mouth full, "All-right then,
where were we?" quickly responding with a laugh, "Oh, I remember." Still chewing,
Daphne clamped her mouth over mine and thrust her tongue and some half-chewed chips
deep inside, as she laid her leg alongside my manhood and stroked me with her hand.
Nearly exhausted I wasnt responding terribly well, and Daphne ceased her deep kiss.
"Having a wee bit of trouble are we?" she said to my half-aroused manhood, "Lets see,
what can we do to get you going?" Daphne brought her foot up and said, "perhaps a visit
from these?" and she gently stroked me with the tips of her very long toenails. I began to
breathe heavily and she said, "Good, its working. Now, how about some long, sexy
fingernails?" she purred, "long and sexy and very, very sharp." I was panting by then
and rock-hard, and Daphne rolled on-to her back pulling me on top of her easily, as if I
were weightless, and as I entered her she sank her long nails in-to my upper back and
tightened her legs round me such that I felt my ribs would break at any moment.
Daphne had not exaggerated when she said earlier that all of her muscles were terribly
strong. The grip her womanhood exerted on my shaft was stronger than the two hands of
many petite girls Id known in the past. I did not doubt that she couldve torn it straight
off of me, were it not for her exquisite muscular control and copious amount of juices.
"Kiss me!" she pleaded hoarsely, and as I complied she emitted a soft mmmmmm, and
slowly dragged her long fingernails down my back. She whispered, "I need you deep,
deep inside," as she sank her nails in-to my arse and pulled me tightly to her, rocking her
ample hips slowly and rythmically and moaning softly. Her moans grew louder and
higher-pitched and more rapid until finally her legs tightened round me like a giant pliers
and the entire bed rattled and shook violently as she climaxed. Daphne looked at me
through half-closed eyes and said breathlessly, "That was a rather pleasant one," and she
plunged her tongue in-to my mouth in a hot, passionate kiss. Then she simply smiled and
resumed slowly churning her hips. She placed the warm soles of her large feet against
the backs of my thighs and as she began to scratch me up and down with her long toenails
she purred, "Tell me how much you like that." I simply moaned, but she insisted, "Tell
me how much you like it or Ill stop." "No please, dont stop," I cried, "I love it." "Does
it please you?" she asked, scraping my thighs harder with her sharp toenails. "Youre
driving me utterly mad!" I gasped. Still slowly grinding herself against me, Daphne dug
her long fingernails deeper in-to my arse and lifted me several centimeters, and I felt her
toes and toenails gently fondling my balls. "I havent even begun to truly drive you
mad," she laughed, and then she demanded, "Kiss me again." And again I complied, and
again she began to moan louder and louder and again she erupted in a bed-shaking
orgasm, this one more thunderous than the preceding. Yet again when it subsided she
resumed moving herself against me, slowly and rythmically.
With her fingernails embedded in my arse and her extremely strong grip, Daphne had
been controlling the tempo to her liking. "Keep going like this," she instructed me as she
gradually released my bum from her talons, dragged them leisurely up my back and
gently grasped my head, which was resting side-ways upon her large, sweat-covered
bosom. She turned my face to hers and added sternly, "Dont you dare come!" With
that, Daphne reached over and opened the drawer in the bed-side stand and produced a
large candy bar, tore off the wrapper and tossed the crumpled paper on-to the floor. It
was one of those thick, milk-chocolate-covered bars with caramel and nuts in-side, and
she took almost half of it in one bite. Her mouth full and chewing hard, she offered me a
bite, which I declined with a shake of my head, and before she had finished swallowing
the first bite, she took two more bites in quick succession, stuffing the remainder of the
candy in-to her mouth. Daphne spread her long-nailed fingers, sticky with melted
chocolate, in front of my face and said with her mouth full, "Its your favourite dessert:
chocolate-covered fingernails!" She poked my lips and I opened my mouth and she
quickly thrust her very long nails inside for me to lick and suck them. That drove my
desire up quickly and I began to thrust in-to her. Instantly she clamped my hips between
her feet and pushed me back and out of her. "I said I dont want you coming yet!" she
snapped. "Im sorry," I cried, "I wont, I promise," and I moved toward her. But she
closed her legs together and asked ingenuously, "So you want me?" "Yes, I want you."
"But Im fat." "Youre incredible." "Incredibly fat?" "No, no. Incredibly sexy, incredibly
beautiful, incredibly…" This fencing match went on for a bit longer, me testifying my
desire for her and she deftly parrying my every verbal thrust. Just as I began to lose
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strength as well as my erection, Daphne leant forward and pushed me on my back. She
made her hand in-to the shape of a claw and gently scratched my shaft from base to tip
between all four fingernails and thumbnail, and I gasped. She did it a second time, and I
was once again at full-staff. Daphne smiled and asked cheerfully, "Want to fuck some
more?" "Dear God yes," I moaned. "This time," she replied, "I want to be on top…that
is, if you arent afraid Ill squash you." And before I could answer she added, as she
gently scratched her long nails up my shaft again, "Or else we can just call it a night." I
merely beckoned her with outstretched arms. Daphne came toward me on her knees and
straddled my hips. As she did she bumped me forward and my head was now resting at
the front of the mattress. Daphne leant forward and grasped my neck with one hand and
shoulder with the other and pulled my head up between her very large breasts. As she
slowly lowered herself on-to my erection she emitted a loud sigh and spread her hands
across my back and dug in her long, sharp fingernails. "Ready?" she giggled. She
couldnt have heard me respond, with my face buried between her breasts, but she slipped
her feet underneath me and curled her long toenails in-to the backs of my legs as she
began slowly swivelling and grinding herself on me, with a strong muscular grasp on my
shaft. As she rocked me with her large hips Daphne kissed the top of my head and I
heard her say softly, "I come hard when Im on top," as if the bed-shattering climaxes
shed had whilst underneath me were mild compared with what I might expect this time.
Daphnes moans grew louder and faster and the bed creaked and rattled and she clawed
my back with her long, un-varnished fingernails. Her moans turned to cries and she
flexed her toes, driving and gouging her long, sharp toenails deep in-to my thighs.
Daphne leant forward slightly and lowered her lips to mine and engaged me in a long,
deep, hot, tongue-probing kiss, her thick black hair cascading round me like a shawl.
Sweat poured down her face and trickled down my neck and chest. She began to mop my
face with her hot, wet tongue, stabbing it in-to my ears and gasping. She opened her
mouth wide and clamped her teeth and lips on my neck and sucked with incredible
strength. Daphne continued grinding her hips onto me, and as her ardour grew she bore
down with all of her considerable weight, meanwhile cleaving me to her in a fingernaildigging
bear-hug. I felt her begin to shudder and the bed began to rattle, harder and
louder, and Daphne began to cry, "Im coming," with increasing volume and faster
repitition until she was screaming it at the top of her lungs. Suddenly she let out a long,
gutteral shriek and shoved me back by the shoulders. I was on my back with my head
hanging backward over the front edge of the mattress, Daphne was on top of me with her
large breasts bouncing in unison, and suddenly the door sprang open and there was a
blinding flash of light. There in the doorway stood Steffi, holding a camera.
I lay there naked, with Daphne naked on top of me, purple spots dancing before my eyes,
unable to utter a word. Steffi detailed with relish her plot of vengeance for my attitude
toward large women. She explained how almost a year eariler she had convinced Lewis
to name me their daughters godfather and then, knowing my weakness, engaged her
sister to begin growing her finger- and toe-nails with the intention of seducing me. In
fact, all the times Steffi had interrupted Daphne just as she was about to kiss me had been
planned to heighten my desire. Moreover, the plan was that I was to be teased to the
brink but never permitted to come.
"I shall cherish this photograph forever," Steffi said triumphantly, glancing at her camera.
"And now," she continued, "the final act." With that, she reached in-to her pocket and
handed a nail-clipper to Daphne. "You may finally be rid of those disgusting
appendages, Daffy," Steffi said, "Cut them slowly, one by one, so he can suffer for the
longest time." Daphne took the clippers in her right hand and inserted her left pinkie nail,
which was about two centimeters long, with the clippers jaws positioned to cut her nail
at the quick. She looked at me and then at Steffi. By this time my erection had subsided
but I was still inside her, and I felt Daphnes muscles constricting and relaxing against
my manhood. She traced a long fingernail slowly down my arm and felt me grow inside
her, and she increased her muscle contractions and began to breathe heavily. "What are
you waiting for? Cut your awful nails, Daffy!" Steffi shouted. "Get out, Steffi," Daphne
cried. "What?!" Steffi shrieked, "What are you doing? Youre ruining it!" "No, youre
ruining it!" Daphne retorted, tears welling in her eyes, "For once in my life I have a
good-looking man mad with desire for me." "No Daffy, he isnt mad with desire for you,
hes mad with desire for your nails. Cut them and youll see." Steffi pleaded. "I dont
care," Daphne answered, "All blokes get turned on by one thing or another. Perfect
breasts, arse, lips, legs…a thin, beautiful body and a gorgeous face. I cant get any of
those, but I can grow my fingernails and toenails if itll drive a pretty bloke like him wild.
Now get out." "Youre being such a fool, Daffy," Steffi snapped, seething. "GET
OUT!" Daphne bellowed, narrowly missing hitting Steffi in the head with the nailclippers
as she hurled them at her, and as her sister retreated in terror and pulled the door
closed behind her, Daphne screamed, "And stop calling me Daffy!"
Daphne wiped the tears from her eyes and looked at me. "I like you, nails or no nails," I
offered, "So if you only grew your nails for Steffis little plot and you truly disdain them
…" Daphne interrupted, "But you dont want me to cut them, do you." "No, please
dont," I answered honestly. "Not because Im not sexy without them, but because Im
eversomuch moreso with them," she offered. "Yes, thats it exactly!" I replied with
astonishment that she understood completely. "Well then, I shall put off whether to keep
them or cut them until Monday morning. In the meantime," she said with a twinkle in
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her eyes, "you have the rest of this night, all day today, and all of to-night to influence
my final decision." "Thank you Daphne," I said earnestly. "Dont thank me, fuck me,"
she purred, raking my chest with her long fingernails and clawing her toenails into my
thighs, and as I jumped to attention inside her she tightened her muscles round it and
began her heavenly slow, rythmic churning. As her moans grew louder and she began
rocking and grinding her large hips more forcefully, she grasped my head and neck in her
talons and pulled me up, whilst she leant forward as much as her round body would
permit. She kissed me long and deep, and whispered breathlessly in-to my ear, "This
time, come with me," as she sank all of her long, sharp nails deeply in-to my flesh and
began pounding her hips on-to me harder and faster until we both exploded in mindblowing
orgasms accompanied by harmonious screams of ecstasy.
It was nearly four in the morning and we both fell asleep in each others arms. We had to
be at the church early, before which we needed to shower and dress and eat. I was in the
shower and Daphne pulled back the curtain and leant in to kiss me. She was eating the
remains of yestderdays stale chips and I made rather a face. "I fancy a little snack before
break-fast," she giggled. Then she stepped in-to the shower with me and took the sponge
and began sensuously washing me between my legs. Gently she scratched her long
fingernails down my legs as she knelt and took my now-aroused manhood in her mouth.
She giggled again and withdrew herself from me for a second and repeated, "I fancy a
little snack before break-fast." After a few moments I grasped her under her arms and
tugged a bit. She released me and stood, somewhat perplexed. "Whats the matter?"
Daphne asked. "Do you fancy a little sex before break-fast?" I asked with a grin.
Daphne smiled broadly and stepped from the shower, pulling me with her by the arm. In
seconds our wet bodies were entwined on the bed. And so the day began.
At break-fast there was deathly silence. Lewis looked at me apologetically and gave a
very slight shrug, as if to make it clear hed had no say in his wifes little plot. Daphne
sat to my right, and across from Steffi but they avoided eye-contact with one-another.
The events of the previous night had clearly put a damper on their relationship, however
it definitely hadnt affected either of their appetites. With no conversation, the sound of
Daphne devouring the meal and licking lips and fingers filled the small room. Steffi had
been avoiding eye-contact but as Daphnes actions grew louder-no doubt on purpose-
Steffi shot her a hateful look. Having caught her sisters attention, Daphne put her left
hand below the table and began audibly scratching her long fingernails against my
trousers. "Youre an ill-mannered, dispicable whore," Steffi hissed. Instantly she
screamed in pain as Daphne kicked her sisters shin under the table. Steffi lurched
backward on her chair and yelled, "Look what shes done!" holding her leg and
examining the deep, bleeding cut from the long, sharp nail of Daphnes great toe.
Clearly these two grown women reverted to childhood siblingry when in each others
company, and Lewis motioned me with his head to beat a reatreat in-to the adjacent
room. "They go at each other like wild dogs, and then theyre over it until the next
row," Lewis said, "Its best to just let them be." "You dont think last night was
something more serious?" I asked. "In the end," Lewis responded, "Steffi loves her little
sister and wants her to be happy. If that means having twenty claws and fucking you,
shell deal with it." "Good, because I wouldnt want to come between sisters," I replied.
"No, you just want to come inside Daphne," Lewis retorted, and we both had a jolly
laugh.
Steffi and Daphne managed to fashion a tentative peace by the time we left for the
church. Daphne held my hand walking to the automobile, inside the automobile, walking
to the church entrance, down the aisle, and whilst we were seated. "I was raised with
most of them," Daphne whispered to me, directing my glance toward a group of young
women seated with their husbands or boyfriends, "Hateful lot. Made my life a living
hell." Later on, after the ceremony there was a small table of cakes and such in the
reception and when several of those women passed near us they were superficially
cordial, but their eyes were on the large pile of pastries on Daphnes plate, and on me. "I
dont believe weve met," one of the women said to me, "I thought I knew all of
Daphnes cousins." "Hes a fr…." Daphne began but I quickly interrupted her with a
tender kiss and then turned to the woman and said, "Im Daphnes boyfriend." "Since
when is this?" one of the other women exclaimed with surprise. "Since the moment I laid
eyes on her," I replied, taking Daphnes hand as she finished thrusting a pastry in-to her
mouth, and sensuously licking the powdered sugar from her fingers. At that moment the
first woman noticed Daphnes un-varnished one-and-a-half to two centimeter fingernails
and gasped, "Good lord Daphne, those look like witches claws," and turning to me as I
withdrew the last of Daphnes fingers from my mouth, "Have you any idea how many
germs are growing under those things? Let me tell you, Im a nurse and…" "Splendid
luck!" I interrupted her, "Perhaps you can tell me a good salve to buy for the scratches on
my back…you see, Daphne and I were showering together before break-fast this morning
and one thing led to another and…" The women pretended to see someone across the
room they simply had to speak with, and excused themselves quickly. I turned to Daphne
and her dark eyes were burning, she was biting her lower lip and breathing rapidly
through flared nostrils. "I only meant to give those hens their come-uppance," I said
apologetically, "Im sorry if I went overboard and embarrassed you." Daphne said
nothing, but grabbed several pastries in one hand and my arm in the other and pulled me
quickly out of the reception and down a hall-way to a door which opened upon a narrow
staircase. She shoved me through the door and ushered me down the stairs and in-to a
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small room with an old, large leather over-stuffed chair. "Where are we going?" I asked.
"When I was a little girl and those-hens, as you call them-would taunt me, rather than
give them the satisfaction of seeing me in tears, Id steal away to this little room in the
cellar and cry my eyes out," she replied, locking the door behind us and switching on the
tiny, dim bare light-bulb, "It was Steffis secret crying room before me." Setting the
pastries down on a small reading table, she said, "I spent half my childhood hiding in this
room, crying. I want-I need to fuck you here, now," Daphne said urgently. Then she
added, "Can you even begin to understand?" "Well, lets see," I began, "Is it that youve
realised that it isnt your own weight that you need to shed, its the weight of what others
have said and thought about you?" Daphnes eyes filled with tears and they flowed
freely down her round cheeks. "Dont," she pleaded. "What?" I asked. "Dont make me
care for you, " Daphne answered, "I just want to fuck you like an animal. Monday you
and I are off in separate directions back to our lives. I dont want to miss you, I dont
want to think about whom youre with and imagine how beautiful and thin she is. But
most of all, I dont want to imagine how grand it might be if I were really your
girlfriend." "Neither do I," I replied woefully. "I mean it, shut up," Daphne hissed,
engaging me in a long, passionate kiss whilst she fumbled with my belt and stepped out
of her shoes. I completed removing my trousers whilst Daphne removed her panties and
she pulled up her dress and sat back on the large over-stuffed chair with her legs apart,
pulling me on top of her, slipping her hands under my shirt and clawing my back with her
long, sharp fingernails and scratching my legs with her toenails as I buried myself as
deeply in-to her as I could and ground myself in-to her slowly. "Faster, do it faster," she
moaned hoarsely, alternately plunging her hot tongue deep in-to my mouth and grasping
my lips in her teeth, and as I pounded her furiously she bit down on the knot of my necktie
to stifle her scream as she-and I-came simultaneously. As we fell limp and panting
to catch our breath, Daphne shoveled the pastries shed brought with her in-to her mouth.
"Want some?" she asked with stuffed cheeks, but before I could decline, her mouth was
on mine and she thrust my mouth full of pastry with her tongue. As I chewed the sweet
dessert, we both giggled like naughty children. When Id swallowed, Daphne put her
fingers to my lips and said softly, "Here." And I licked and sucked her fingers and long,
un-varnished fingernails until they were spotless.
We did our best to make ourselves presentable and made our way back up-stairs. Lewis
and Steffi had been looking for us to join them for photographs. "Where on earth had
you two got off to?" Lewis asked. "Daphne was just giving me a tour of the church," I
replied off-handedly. Steffi grasped Daphnes sleeve and asked with quiet urgency, "You
showed him our crying room?" "I shant need to recall it as the crying room any longer,"
Daphne replied, smiling. Steffis jaw dropped in disbelief, but then her expression
quickly turned to a smile. "Thats good, baby sister. Thats splendid," she said, her
voice breaking. "You should show the room to Lewis," Daphne said with a wink. "You
dirty girl you!" Steffi teased, but then said rather contemplatively, "Perhaps I shall." And
I sensed that all was well again between the sisters. Perhaps even better than before.
In the automobile on the ride home, Lewis sniffed the air and dropped his window a bit,
leant over to Steffi and said in a whisper we werent meant to hear, "It smells like sex in
here." "Shut up, Lewis," Steffi whispered. Daphne rested her head on my shoulder and
we kissed and she stroked my cheek with her long fingernails. Their daughter fast asleep
in her arms, Steffi extended her hand toward Lewis and grasped his. "What would you
think if I let my nails grow?" she asked him quietly. "Well, I suppose if you must…that
is, I suppose theres no harm…" he responded, confused. "Shut up, Lewis," Steffi
laughed, and squeezed his hand. Daphne slipped out of her shoes and slowly spread and
wiggled her large toes with their long, un-varnished toenails. "Twopence for your
thoughts," she whispered, winking, and glancing the tip of her long pinke-nail over the
growing bulge in my trousers. Back home Daphne announced that since wed barely
slept the night before, we were going to take a mid-afternoon nap. "Us too," Steffi said,
grasping Lewis arm and winking at Daphne.
I was truly exhausted and although we began kissing and caressing one another, Daphne
recognised that I needed sleep, so rather than have sex, she finished me orally and then
she clutched my spent body tightly to her and we both fell asleep. When we awoke it
was almost supper-time and Daphne was famished and slipped in-to a loose-fitting
knitted lounging outfit and I into runners shorts and a tee-shirt, and we found Steffi and
Lewis already seated at the table eating. Daphne sat across from me and immediately
plucked a large chunk of meat from the serving bowl between her long fingernails and
devoured it noisily, whilst with her other hand she grasped a large spoon and shoveled
potatoes on-to her plate. I took my serving and we all engaged in casual conversation.
Presently I felt Daphnes toenails scraping up my bare shins, on to my thighs, and then
she was working her toes through the legs of my shorts and in a moment she had my
manhood in her grasp, gently kneading and stroking it. Her feet were very soft,
contrasting with the hardness and sharpness of her very long toenails which poked and
scraped me frequently. The sensation was maddening and she had me completely
aroused. Daphne merely smiled at the look of desperate pleading that she clearly read in
my eyes, and sensuously licked her long fingernails one by one as she wanked me to
orgasm with her feet, after which she wiped her sticky toes in my leg hair as she slowly
scraped her toenails back along my thighs and down my shins to my feet where she gave
my ankles a playful scratch before returning her feet to her slippers. Then she winked at
me and blew me a little kiss. When Steffi and Lewis arose to clear the table I quickly
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cleaned myself up with my napkin and put myself back in order. "I cant believe you did
that!" I whispered to Daphne. "No?" she replied, "Then Id best do it again." "What do
you say we spirit off to the bed-room?" I suggested. "Theres dessert coming!" Daphne
cried. Whilst we ate our sweets, I felt Daphnes toenails on my leg again and shot her a
look of panic. She giggled and withdrew her foot.
After dinner we all repaired to the parlour. Lewis had his arm round Steffi, and Daphne
rested her head on my shoulder. After some conversation Daphne began stroking my arm
with a long nail and she raised her head and planted kisses on my neck. Steffi took Lewis
by the hand and bid us good-night, and said that they would motor us to the train station
in the morning-after a hearty break-fast, of course. As soon as Steffi and Lewis exited
the parlour Daphne gave me a lusty smile, pushed me down on the davenport and fell on
top of me, raking my legs with her toenails and thrust her hand in-to my shorts grasping
at me with her long fingernails and working my shorts down. "Lets go to the bedroom,"
I suggested. "Lets have a quick one first," she replied, then shed the trousers of
her lounging outfit and impailed herself on my manhood and hammered herself against
me furiously, grasping my ribs in an eagle-grip with her talons, and in perhaps fifteen
seconds both of us came in unison. Daphne smiled her beautiful, big smile and combed
her long black hair away from her face with her long, unvarnished nails and leant her face
down to mine. She kissed me softly at one corner of my mouth and then the other, and
then turned her head as if to kiss me deeply, but instead she sat up and purred, "Ill meet
you in my bed-room. I want to stop in the kitchen and pick up the rest of that chocolate
cake."
I was sitting on the bed when Daphne came in and locked the door behind her. She set
the plate with chocolate cake on the bed-side table and removed her clothes and sat at the
front of the bed facing me, with her large legs straight in front of her. The soles of her
feet faced me, with the under-sides of her very long toenails visible well past the ends of
her toes. Seeing my gaze fixed on them, Daphne pulled her legs to her and snapped her
fingers. "Look up here," she said, pointing a talon to her face and spreading her other
long-nailed hand over her large bosom, "Or do you find my feet are truly sexier than my
face." "Your face is exquisite," I said instantly. "Oh no! Not the its a pity shes so fat
but she has such a lovely face line!" she retorted, and then quickly apologised, "Im
sorry, I shouldnt have assumed you meant it that way." "No, you shouldnt," I replied,
"You may be able to limit yourself emotionally to make this a casual week-end fling but I
seem to be falling for you." I couldnt believe Id just said that, and moreso, I couldnt
believe that it was in fact true. Daphne slid toward me and grasped my face between her
hands, the tips of her very long fingernails gently pressing in-to my skin, and brought her
mouth within millimeters of mine. "Now, I dont want you to think this is in response to
what you just told me," she said as her eyes began to close and she licked her parted lips
glistening-wet with the tip of her tongue. "Of course," I whispered, as we locked in a
deep, hot, passionate kiss that lasted several minutes. When the kiss ended, I caressed
Daphnes cheek and said, "I cant fathom how this isnt affecting you the way its
affecting me."
"I never said it wasnt, I merely said I didnt want it to," Daphne blurted, and then,
"Damn it, every time you say something it just makes it worse. What must I do to shut
you up?" Before I could formulate a careful reply, her eyes widened and, still grasping
my head, she lay on her back with her knees bent and wide apart, and she buried my face
between her legs, grinding me in-to her. She placed her feet on me and scratched my legs
and arse with her long toenails and finally, her juices flowing, she clenched my head
between her thighs in a mighty convulsion and a long, moaning scream. When shed
recovered, Daphne looked at me and giggled, then she picked up my tee-shirt from the
floor and gently dried my face and neck. "Do you see what you do to me?" she cried,
"Do you see how much you make me want you?" She pushed me down on my back and
held me captive easily with one out-spread long-nailed hand on my chest. Daphne
purred, "Now Im going to make you want me as much as I want you." "I already do," I
assured her, but she ignored me and scooped a finger-ful of chocolate cake and put her
finger deep in her mouth and licked it clean. "Mmmmmmm," she cooed. Then she
began smearing what amounted to nearly half of a large chocolate cake and frosting on
me from my feet to my face, and slowly licked it away over the course of an hour or
more, saving my erect, throbbing manhood for last, which she did slowly and gently so
that I was sure not to come, but which drove me positively insane with lust and desire.
"NOW you want me as much as I want you," Daphne exclaimed with satisfaction, as she
rolled over and pulled me on-to her. "Now fuck me," she commanded. Never before
had I been with someone with whom each successive climax was more incredible than
the last.
We both fell asleep for a while, and when I awoke it was almost five in the morning. I
slipped off the bed-unsteady and barely able to stand on my feet-and as Daphne stirred
I told her to go back to sleep, that I was going to have a quick shower because I was
sticky and had frosting in my chest-hair. She grabbed me by the arse with her long
fingernails and pulled me straight back in-to the bed. "I fancy you all sticky and smelling
like chocolate," she giggled, and then added in a lusty voice, "Dont go." "I was rather
hoping youd say that…later, at the station," I said mournfully. "You dont give up, do
you?" she demanded. "And you give up rather too easily," I replied. "We know nothing
about one-another," Daphne pointed out, "Weve not dated, weve hardly spoke. All
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weve done is fuck since the moment we met. The sex has been incredible, Ill grant that,
but is there…do we have anything beyond that?" "Well I suppose we wont ever know,
will we? Unless we give it a go," I observed. "Im scared," Daphne said seriously.
"Of?" I asked "Im know Im good at sex-if I do say so myself," she answered, "But I
dont know if Im any good at all the rest. And according to Steffi and Lewis youve an
absolutely abysmal history in that regard." "I cant deny that," I began, "But a day ago I
didnt think I could even be attracted to a large woman and today Im desperately trying
not to let you disappear from my life. Perhaps youve the power to change that abysmal
history of mine. Tell me this week-end hasnt changed you as well." "Well, we did turn
my crying room into the what-a-great-fuck room," Daphne giggled, "And before, I
couldnt wait to cut off all of these," she said, displaying her long, un-varnished
fingernails and toenails, "but now I must admit they make me feel rather sexy, in a wild,
animalistic way." Daphne turned on her stomach and laid her head on my chest and I
stroked her long, black hair. Presently I felt her toenails scratching the inside of my
thigh, and she raked her long fingernails slowly and sensuously down my arm. She tilted
her head up and as we kissed she crawled on top of me and slipped her hands under me,
slowly raking her nails against my back whilst she scraped my legs softly with her long
toenails. "Break-fasts in an hour," she said, "Theres no sense in going back to sleep, is
there." "None at all," I agreed, as she rose up on her knees and centered her hips over my
erection, "We may as well fuck." "No," Daphne purred as she lowered herself on-to me
and I felt her heat and the tight constriction of her muscles round my shaft, "Lets make
love."
After wed eaten a large break-fast, we all piled in-to Lewis automobile and left for the
train station. There we said our good-byes to Steffi and Lewis. Steffi took Daphnes
hands and said, "Well, at last you can finally cut those bear-claws off of your fingers and
toes." To which Daphne replied, "Actually, I believe I shant cut them after all." "Why
in heavens name would you want to keep them?" Steffi asked incredulously. Daphne
clasped my hand and as we stepped on-to the train, she said, "Because my boyfriend
finds them sexy."
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-
The Power of Nails
The Power of Nails (by Bradford)
Normally I guess Im pretty discerning when it comes to picking women. Normally Ill
take someone with just average looks and a great personality over someone really hot-
looking but whiny or selfish or dumb or just a bitch. The reason I made a point of saying
"normally" twice, is because if I see a woman with long nails, my brain shuts down and
Im drawn to her like a moth to a flame. The best I can do is hope that she turns out to be
a decent person. Mostly it has worked out, probably because most of my dates have
been fixups by friends. Im a little shy plus Im just average-looking, so women dont
tend to hit on me, and I tend to have trouble approaching strangers at bars and singles
functions. But like I said, show me a set of long nails and my brain shuts down. Last
Friday when I let two of my co-workers talk me into going with them to the bar after
work, little did I know my life was about to skid out of control.
Firstly, due to a pay cut to my already meager salary, plus the increased cost of gas, wed
been carpooling for the past six months. So last Friday I didnt have my car, and I didnt
want to have to take three busses and a taxi to get home. And, the guys promised wed
be ready to go by ten. Well, they spotted a trio of young women who happened to be
roommates. Two were tall, hot, bottle-blondes with large, obviously surgically-
enhanced tits. The third one was a tiny little waifish thing with long curly black hair. My
buddies plied the two blondes with drinks and dancing, and had sealed the deal by ten.
All three women had come in the little ones car, and I was there without a car, so they
begged her, who they hastily introduced to me as Serena, to drive me home. That
sounded like a terrible imposition on a complete stranger, not to mention made me feel
completely pathetic, and I started to decline. That is, until Serena put her hands on the
table to collect her cigarettes and lighter. Holy shit, she had the hottest set of nails Id
ever seen. They were slim like her fingers, and were at least an inch and a half past her
fingertips, in a very slight curve that made them click on the glass tabletop when she laid
her palm flat. She wasnt wearing any nailpolish so I could tell her nails were absolutely
real. My dick was trying to bore its way through my pants. I thanked Serena very
sincerely for going out of her way, and she just looked at me sort of blank and said, "Its
no big deal. Cmon lets go." She seemed pleasant, and maybe a little shy like me.
Serena had a black Hyundai Tiburon, sort of a poor-mans sports car. It was a stick, and
the interior was pretty small, so her right hand and its five talons were going to be just a
couple inches from my left leg. Instead of resting her palm on top of the gearshift knob,
she wrapped her fingers around the stick. I couldnt help imagining what it would feel
like to have her fingers wrapped around my member, and my dick was throbbing. If I
was right about Serena beeing shy and sweet, it definitely didnt come across in the way
she drove. She went at least twenty mph over the limit, and in the little car it felt like
twice that. Furthermore she tailgated and weaved in and out of traffic, and she never
slowed down at intersections. I sort of laughed nervously and asked her if shed had
much to drink, and she just turned her head toward me and gave me this angry stare,
meanwhile her eyes were off the road and she hadnt slowed down a bit. I apologized
and pointed toward the road ahead, and she very slowly turned her head forward. "Close
your eyes if my driving bothers you," she muttered.
Serena blasted through at least ten yellow lights just as they turned red, but finally she got
caught at a red. While she waited for the light to change she lit a cigarette. The little car
quickly filled up with smoke, and although I coughed, she didnt offer to put it out or to
crack a window, or in any way acknowledge my obvious discomfort. When I cracked my
window a little, she switched the cigarette from her left hand to her right hand, so the
smoke from the end trailed up in my direction. Finally she cracked her own window a
little and tossed out the smoldering butt. I shut my window and said "Thanks", but she
didnt respond, and the next red light she hit, Serena lit another cigarette. Even at
breakneck speed, the ride took close to a half hour, during which time I tried a couple
times to make polite conversation, only to get a short one-word reply. Finally I stopped
trying, and we were both silent the rest of the way. She pulled into the parking lot at my
apartment complex and I pointed at the third building and said, "Thats me." She
whipped the car into an open slot and put it in neutral. I thanked her profusely for going
so far out of her way, and asked her to please let me pay her for the gas. "Ten should do
it," she answered without blinking. Although it couldnt have really cost more than half
that, it was cheaper than a cab, and I handed her a ten dollar bill. I felt her long nails
touch my hand when she took the tenspot, and my dick jumped. She put the money in
her purse silently, and looked at her watch. I was pretty much convinced by now that
Serena was a bitch, and it seemed obvious that she wanted to get the hell on her way, so I
knew if I asked her up for a drink shed say no. But like I said before, long nails make
my brain shut down, and anyways I knew I could save face and act like Id just been
being polite. I even phrased it in such a way like I was expecting her to decline. I said,
"You wouldnt, like, want to come up for a drink, would you?" Serena looked at her
watch again and said, "Ok," yanked up the handbrake and shut of the engine and she was
out of the car before I was.
She walked silently a little ahead of me, until we got to my door. I unlocked it and
opened the door and let her in, and I had to rush to a lamp to turn it on because the wall
switch by the door was broken. I turned around and Serena was looking the place over,
and it was obvious by her expression she wasnt impressed. I apologized for things being
a little messy and she just said, "Its fine." I cleared some newspapers and stuff off the
couch and she sat down. She was wearing a short, tight black dress, and I noticed her
legs for the first time when she crossed them. They were bare, and considering how thin
and small she was, had a really nice shape to them. She was wearing black high-heeled
strappy sandals and her feet were small but really pretty. Her toenails were slightly long
and with a very professionally-done French pedicure. I also saw her face in the light,
and I thought she had really nice eyes, very dark and mysterious, and a really sexy
mouth. She had red lipstick, and probably some kind of clear gloss, and her lips looked
very plump and moist. I looked away for a moment and heard the sound of a lighter, and
I turned back just in time to see Serena take a drag on her cigarette, take it out of her
mouth between her taloned fingers, and lick her moist, red lips while she French-inhaled.
She blew the smoke upward, and then took another drag. I didnt believe she didnt
remember from the car that I dont smoke and that it bothered me, so she obviously just
didnt care. She laid her pack of cigarettes and lighter on my coffee table, so it was also
obvious she planned to smoke more. I hurried to get her a glass to use as an ashtray.
I asked her what shed like to drink, and she asked me if I had any vodka. I said yes and
asked her how she liked it. "Cold and wet. And in a glass," she responded humorlessly.
I was struck by her harsh attitude, but then she stretched her hands down and stroked her
legs from her ankles up. Slowly, sensuously, like a cat. Her ever-so-slightly curved
inch-and-a-half un-polished fingernails just barely grazed her skin, leaving faint white
lines in their wake. It occurred to me they had to be very sharp to do that, and my heart
pounded.
I got the vodka out of the freezer, then I couldnt find any shot glasses, so I apologized
for serving her in a large glass. She held it with both hands, all her fingers wrapped
around the glass. She kept her mysterious dark eyes locked on me while she put the glass
to her plump, red lips and took a sip. "Do you think my nails are too long?" she asked in
a soft voice, clicking them against the glass. I felt myself flush. My tongue was
momentarily paralyzed. "Yes or no, its a simple question," she said. I shook my head
quickly. "Good," she said, and she took another sip of vodka. "They were lots shorter
when I met my last boyfriend, but he still kept nagging me to cut them," Serena said. She
took another sip of vodka. "Love me, love my nails. Thats my rule. Im definitely
obsessed," she said. Another sip. "So I let them grow even longer. And then I dumped
him," she said. I was totally fascinated with her, she was turning me on like crazy.
There was no chance I could think rationally, no way I was going to hear the warnings
my brain was trying to tell me.
Serena put her drink down, and rested her hand on my arm. Her fingers were ice-cold
from holding the glass. That and the feel of her long fingernails on my skin made me
shivver. She stroked her nails up my arm and moved closer. Obviously she wanted me
to kiss her. Her eyes were half-closed, her lips parted. The faint scent of alcohol on her
breath was really sexy. I sort of expected her lips and tongue to be cold too, but they
werent. Beyond warm, they were burning hot. She slipped her other hand around my
neck and lightly scraped me with her nails. First kisses can be amazing, I know, but hers
was incredible. Hot and sweet, soft but strong. And it lasted and lasted. And lasted. A
lot longer than any other first kiss Id had. After a time, I began to wonder if she ever
intended to stop. Finally though, she did end the kiss, slowly, and she sat back and
observed my reaction. Serena scratched her nails lightly down my tie. "Take your shirt
off," she said. I unbuttoned my shirt and had it off in a second. Serena spread her hands
as if she was going to touch her very long unpolished nails to my chest, but instead, she
looked toward the hallway. "Is the bedroom back there?"she asked. I got up, Serena
grabbed her purse and cigarettes, and we went quickly to my bedroom.
Sex with Serena was unbelievable. She was a little dynamo, tireless and insatiable. Id
been with a few women who were capable of multiple orgasms, but nothing like Serena.
There was nothing she didnt like to do, no position she didnt enjoy. She was amazingly
flexible, too. When I was eating her out I looked up for a second and she was sucking on
her own toes! And she knew exactly how to use her ultra-long fingernails to drive me
completely over the top crazy. She knew just where to scratch me, and how hard she
could do it without distracting me from my pleasure. I mean she left my upper body
completely covered with long red welts going in every direction, but she had me so
turned on at the time that I never felt any pain. When it was over, she went to the
bathroom, and when she came out she started quietly getting dressed. This was too good
to be true! But just to not be an asshole, I said politely, "You dont have to go, unless
you want to." Serena looked at me for a second, dropped her clothes on the floor and
climbed into bed. She laid on top of me and reached back and switched off the light. I
felt her scratch me slowly with her nails. I could hear them scraping my skin. I was so
exhausted that it was actually lulling me to sleep. I could feel the warmth of her breath
against my face. She whispered, "I love you." My eyes flew open and panic raced
through my brain, which had just begun to function again. I pretended to snore, so I
wouldnt have to say anything.
The next morning I woke to the smell of coffee and bacon. I stumbled to the kitchen and
there was Serena, cooking away. The kitchen was cleaned up and neat, and
the table was set. "There was nothing in the fridge, so I ran out to the store. I hope I
didnt wake you," she said. "No, you didnt," I said, not sure of what else to say. She
said, "I borrowed a sweatshirt from your dresser. I didnt want to go to the supermarket
on a Saturday morning wearing a cocktail dress." It smelled great and I was starved, so I
sat down. I was really hoping that she hoped I hadnt heard what she said to me the night
before. Or, better yet, that she didnt even remember saying it. Serena ate very little,
then she moved her chair around the table close to me. She put her elbow on the table
and rested her chin on her hand, wiggled her fingers with those gorgeous long nails.
Serena looked me in the eyes as I ate. "I love you," she said. I almost lost my mouthful
of food. Serena took a napkin and dabbed my chin. She smiled, I think it was the first
time Id seen her smile. "Serena, youre great, but we just met. It cant possibly be love,
not yet," I said. She looked at me sternly and said, "You sound just like my therapist!"
The panic I felt the night before returned, and was getting stronger. My mind raced for
ways to get myself out of this situation before it got totally out of hand. But speaking of
hands, Serena put hers under the table and scratched my thigh slowly with her long nails,
got my ankle between her bare feet and caressed my leg up and down with her toes, and
once more my brain shrank while my erection grew. Serena and I went back to bed and
had sex. Then we had sex together in the shower. And again after the shower. We fell
asleep until just before dinner. Serena said she was going home, but when she put her
short, tight black cocktail dress and makeup back on, she looked so hot that like an idiot I
asked her out for the evening. Naturally she accepted, and she picked the most romantic
place in town for dinner, then we went clubbing. Like I said before, she was incredibly
flexible, and could dance like a stripper. That and the way she flashed those amazing
long nails of hers, she got me so turned on we had sex in the back of my car in the
parking lot. Then we went back to my place and had sex most of the rest of the night.
When I got up Sunday it was already almost three in the afternoon. I looked around for
Serena but she was gone. When I went out to the kitchen there was a note on the table. It
just said, "Thanks," and was signed "Serena". No phone number or e-mail. I figured
either she decided that was that, or was trying to get me to chase her (my co-workers
obviously knew where she lived because they went home with her roommates). Either
way Id dodged a bullet. I mean, Serena was hot, and she was unbeatable in bed, and
holy shit, those nails… OMG! I was getting hard just thinking about her nails!
Fortunately, not actually having her nails in front of me, my brain didnt shut off this
time. Serena was a bit too intense and high-maintenance for me. Thank my lucky stars
we had an incredible couple days, but best leave it at that.
I had to work late on Monday so I didnt get home until after nine PM. I was dead tired
when I opened the door and threw my briefcase and keys down by the door. I smelled
cigarettes, but not stale smoke, it was fresh. Then I just about had a heart attack when I
heard this angry, upset female voice shout, "Where were you?" I blinked a couple of
times, and there she was, sitting on the couch with a glass of vodka in one hand and a
cigarette in the other. "Serena? What are you doing here?" I asked. "I made dinner for
you. But now its cold," she said. "How did you get in?" I asked. "Oh, well, Saturday
when I went to the supermarket I borrowed your key, so I stopped at Home Depot and
had one made for myself. I figured Id save you the trouble," she said. I was
flabbergasted and didnt know what to say, but that feeling of panic was back with a
vengeance. "Im sorry I got mad at you. I can warm up dinner. Are you hungry?" she
said. Fact is, I was starved, and I guess hunger, like long nails, can disrupt my brain.
I have to admit, Serena was a good cook. Having a delicious home-cooked meal when I
got home was something I hadnt had since I moved out of my moms house. As I ate, I
glanced around the kitchen and out into the living room, and I noticed a bunch of plants
everywhere. "Plants take in carbon dioxide and give off oxygen. Theyre very healthy
for you," she said, lighting a cigarette. I looked Serena in the eyes and said, "We have to
talk." "Ok," she said, putting out her cigarette. She put her hands on my arms and
looked into my eyes. I felt the tips of her nails touch my skin, and I looked down.
Serena slowly dragged her nails along my arms and held my hands. "What did you want
to say?" she asked. I swallowed hard. Serena stroked my face with her long nails and I
found myself leaning toward her. Her dark, mysterious, sexy eyes were half-closed and
her moist, red lips were slightly apart. I tried to pull back, but she put her hands behind
my head and scratched my neck sensuously with those ultra-long fingernails, and the next
thing I knew we were in bed and she was under me, scratching my back with her nails
while we fucked like mad. Afterward I stumbled to the bathroom, and when I looked
around there was all kinds of girly products everywhere. I ran out into the bedroom and
looked in my dresser. It was jammed with her clothes. Then I opened the closet door and
stood there looking at the row of dresses hanging next to my suits, where it used to be
empty space. "Serena! We really do have to talk!" I shouted. Serena got out of bed and
pressed her hot, naked body against me from behind. She put her hands around in front
of me and slowly extended her fingers with inch-and-a-half long, slender, unpolished
nails. She put one hand against my chest, and with her other hand she wrapped her
fingers around my erect dick, and she lightly scratched with those long, sexy nails. My
brain shut off . Stroking my leg with her soft toes, laying her head against my back,
Serena said, "Come to bed." As she rode my dick, as the pleasure mounted, as I watched
and felt her long, slender nails slowly leave their marks on me, she leaned forward and
kissed me and said, "I love you." I really hope my brain never starts working again,
because this time, I said it back to her.
-
THE RAGE OF EVANGELINE
THE RAGE OF EVANGELINE…by J.K. Sangfroid
Blue and red lights flashed in the dusky evening high in the Hollywood hills overlooking
Los Angeles. A swarm of police cars parked haphazardly in haste along the roadside, a
small army of uniformed men and women wearing latex gloves scurried along the hillside
to a slight ravine, where a team of medical examiners knelt over a crumpled object
collecting samples and taking measurements and photographs. Two men in suits,
homicide detectives, stood by watching. One, the younger, was visibly shaken by what
hed just seen. Hed seen plenty of corpses before, in various stages of decomposition,
some dismembered, some beheaded. Shot, stabbed, strangled, bludgeoned. But this one
was different. This victim was done in by an animal. A human animal. And, most likely
a female one.
"Cause of death: exsanguination," the examiner dictated into a tiny recorder. She
continued: "Victim suffered two puncture wounds of 1.5 to 2 centimeters on either side
of the neck under the mandible, and four parallel lacerations of the same depth extending
downward from the forehead to the cheeks. It appears the wounds were inflicted quickly,
as his eyes were torn from their sockets in the process." "Someone scratched his eyes
out?" the older detective asked. The examiner nodded, "Looks that way. But thats not
what killed him." She pointed to a bloody mass lying neatly on the victims chest,
"That, detectives, is his scrotum, with his testicles still inside. Thats how he bled out."
The younger detective clamped his hand over his mouth and sat on the ground. "Take
deep breaths, Harris," his older partner counseled. Detective Greg Harris looked up at
him. "Mob hit? Robbery?" he asked. "I doubt it," the examiner said, "His $12,000
Rolex is still on his wrist. And his testicles werent sliced off with a knife. Unless I miss
my guess, they were torn off by hand. Clawed off, to be exact. Im betting the perp is a
woman with long, sharp fingernails." "What a way to off your ex-boyfriend," the young
detective half-joked. "I dont think he was her boyfriend," the examiner said, "It appears
he ejaculated just prior to being castrated. How likely is it a woman was angry enough to
do this, but she still had sex with him? No, I think this wasnt the result of a lovers
quarrel." "Neither do I," the older detective interjected. Hed been silent for a while,
pondering the possibilities. "Call the house. Tell them to call Paul Vincenzo and have
him meet us at the morgue," he said to his partner. The younger man looked puzzled.
"Vincenzo? Hes retired, on disability," he said. "Not any more he isnt," the older one
said with ominous definition.
Meanwhile, a white Bentley convertible blew through a stop sign on the outskirts of
Beverly Hills, and a parked police cruiser flashed to life and followed close behind. A
couple whoops of the siren and the Bentley pulled over. Cautiously the young uniformed
officer approached the Bentley, flashlight in one hand, and his other hand on the butt of
his gun. The drivers window was already down, and he could see a pretty young woman
at the wheel. "May I see your license and registration please, maam?" he asked formally.
The cops flashlight reflected off her coal-black eyes. She smiled and tossed back her
long, copper-colored curls. "Im real sorry, cher," she said in a thick Cajun drawl, "I
mustve forgot them at home." "Can you please step out of the car, maam?" the young
cop asked politely, stepping back. "Okay officer," she smiled, "But please dont call me
maam. It makes me feel old." She opened the door and slowly swung her legs out and
stood up. "Please place your hands behind your back, maam…sorry, I mean, miss," the
cop asked, almost apologetically, as he put her in handcuffs. Despite himself, despite his
training, he couldnt help but check her out. She was petite, but she had a perfect figure.
Nice, firm breasts. Shapely legs, accentuated by strappy sandals with 6-inch heels. Her
skin was pale amber, her features a sublime mixture of European and African features.
The cop pulled the radio microphone from the clip at his shoulder, intending to call in the
license number of the Bentley. The young woman twitched and wiggled her nose. "My
nose itches, cher," she said to the cop in a sweet, almost girlish way. "Itll only be a
minute," he retorted. "Please, cher?" she pleaded, "Little me cant possibly overpower
you, and I sure cant run in these shoes." "Just wait, miss," the cop insisted dryly. The
young woman twitched her nose some more, and she begged him, "Oh please, cher! I
really need to scratch." The young cop sighed and re-attached his microphone to his
shirt. "Just for a second," he said. "Thats all I need," the young woman said quietly.
The moment the young cop unlocked the handcuffs, she whipped around, and before he
could blink, she raked his face savagely with unimaginably-sharp long fingernails. The
sudden, searing pain drove him instantly to his knees, clasping his face with both hands,
blood pouring through his fingers, screaming, "My eyes! My eyes!" She kneeled down
and spoke into his ear, "I told you, cher. I really needed to scratch." Then she took his
gun from his holster, put the barrel under his chin and pulled the trigger. Slowly she got
back in the Bentley, and drove away.
At the Los Angeles county morgue, the medical examiner pulled a stainless-steel drawer
out of the wall vault and unzipped the shiny black body-bag. The two detectives stood
over the body of the man found in the ravine. Momentarily the door opened and a large
gray-haired man sauntered in. "Vincenzo, nice to see you," Detective Harry McMahon
said, "Oh, this is my new partner, Greg Harris." The two shook hands. Det. Harris
looked at Paul Vincenzos face. He tried not to stare. Long vertical scars lined his face,
and he wore a black patch over his left eye. "McMahon, what the fucks so important
you needed to roust me out of bed in the middle of the night. Im retired, remember?"
"Youll want in on this one," McMahon said. Paul Vincenzo stood over the body, his
face turned red, his fists clenched. "Vangie. Shes back," he said between clenched
teeth. "Who?" young Det. Greg Harris said.
Paul Vincenzo turned quickly and recited, "Evangline Boudreau. Age…28 by now…no,
wait, she turned 29 the 18th of last month. Height, 5 feet 3 inches. Weight, 105 pounds.
Born and raised in a New Orleans brothel. Turned out at 12. Killed her first victim at 14.
A local sherriff. He used to bring his deputies around and watch them do Vangie while
he jerked off. One day she had enough, grabbed his gun and shot him in the nuts, then
she ripped his eyes out with her fingernails, so he couldnt watch her anymore. She sat
there watching him bleed for half an hour before she put one in his brain. After that she
left a trail of bodies across the country. Same or similar M.O. Quite a few of them were
sherifs or cops, even one FBI agent. She hates all men, but especially ones with a
badge." "Hows it nobody ever caught her?" Det. Harris asked. Paul Vincenzo looked
at him and said, "She may be a psychopath but shes careful, calculating and smart. She
can out-shoot any cop on the force, shes expert with any kind of sharp weapon, she
knows martial arts, and most of all shes incredibly sexy and knows how to be irresistible
to men. Believe me, I know." "She did that to you?" Harris asked, gesturing toward
Pauls scarred face. "Ten years ago. McMahon there was my rookie partner, a young
cowboy like you. He came bursting in like the fucking cavalry, shooting the place up.
Couldnt shoot worth shit, and Vangie took off. But your partners the only reason Im
alive and still got one eye… and both my nuts." "Jesus," Harris said, pondering Pauls
disfigured face. Vincenzo continued, "Ive hauled in hookers and responded to drunken
domestic disputes and been scratched by lots of broads. But Vangies nails are as strong
and sharp as a tigers claws. Sliced me like butter. Shes twice as vicious as a tiger and
shes got no conscience. You look in her eyes and you see no one but the devil staring
back at you."
Evangline Boudreau pulled the white Bentley convertible up to a corrugated garage door
at a run-down warehouse in South Central and gave the horn a quick toot. A face
appeared through a side door, and quickly disappeared back inside. In a moment the door
raised up, and Vangie drove the Bentley inside. She rolled down the window and said,
"How much you give me, cher?" A wiry young Latino covered in gang tattoos flashed a
sinister grin, "How bout I dont give you nothing, chica? How bout I just keep the car
and me and my homeboys all take turns fucking your skinny bitch ass?" There was a
cackle of laughter from the three other men present. Vangie opened the door and got out
slowly. The chop-shop owners smirk faded a little when he saw that there was
absolutely no fear in Vangies expression. He quickly pulled his 9mm and held it out, in
sideways gangsta-style. Still she showed no fear. She walked right up to him, until her
face was mere inches from his, and she purred syrupy-sweet, "I think, cher, that if you
and all your homeboys fucked me together, there might just be enough dick to make me
smile." "Dont worry, chica," he hissed, shoving the 9mm in her ribs, "Ive got more
than enough dick to fill up that nasty mouth of yours." "You really know how to woo a
lady, cher," Vangie whispered, sliding her left hand down into his pants. "Thats bein
more smart, chica," he snickered, "For a second I thought all you had for me was that
sharp tongue." She whispered, "Oh no, cher, I got something a lot more sharp."
Suddenly she sank her deadly-sharp nails into his nutsack and at the same instant grabbed
his gun with her right hand and pushed the slide back, so it couldnt fire no matter how
hard he pulled the trigger. He let out a blood curdling scream, and momentarily the three
other men stood paralyzed. He screamed, "Shoot her!" and as they saw blood soaking
through his pants they all reached for their guns. Vangie sliced her pinkie nail across his
trigger finger, laying it open to the bone, and in an instant she had the gun in her hand,
and in rapid succession, bam-bam-bam, shot each of the other three men once through the
center of their foreheads. "All I wanted was to sell you a hot Bentley, but nooooo, cher,
that wasnt enough for you. Now look what you made me go and do," she said, nodding
toward the bodies of his homeboys lying sprawled on the warehouse floor. With her left
hand still down his pants, she clutched his nuts even deeper with her long fingernails,
and drove him to his knees. She tucked the 9mm into her waist behind her back, and
with her right hand now free, she snarled "Stupid little man," and dug her nails deeply
into his brow. His scream reverberated off the warehouse walls as she yanked her left
hand out of his pants, holding his scrotum before his face like a trophy. Then she clawed
her right hand down his face, her deadly long nails slicing his flesh open with remarkable
ease, hooking his eyes as she did. "Ill just leave the Bentley and take that baby over
there, and well call it even, ok?" she said, and she reached behind her for the 9mm and
shot him through the head. "Nice doin business with you, cher," she laughed over her
shoulder as she walked over to a red Ferrari and slipped her lithe body into the drivers
seat.
By that time, news of the Beverly Hills officers murder had reached the Los Angeles
detectives. Paul Vincenzo shook his head. "Shes never killed twice in such a short
time," he said somberly, "Shes ramping up." "Think maybe shell get sloppy, make it
easier for us to get her?" Det. McMahon asked. "Slim hope, maybe. One thing Im sure
of, the killing spree wont end until I stop her," Vincenzo said. "You?" McMahon
echoed. "Yes Harry. Ive got to do this alone," Vincenzo said, "If shes focused on me,
it might save a few innocent victims." "Are you sure you know what youre doing,
Paul?" Det. McMahon asked. "Just get me reinstated and give me back my gun and
badge, ok?" Vincenzo said. "Done," McMahon said. Detective Harris came in excitedly.
"Someone reported they saw a Beverly Hills cruiser stop a white Bentley convertible
earlier," he said, "They didnt get a plate number but it shouldnt be that hard to find."
Paul Vincenzo smiled, "You wont find Vangie Boudreau behind the wheel. Shes way
too smart. She ditched it right away." "So whats your plan?" Harry McMahon asked his
former partner, "How do you figure on finding her?" "I figure to let her find me," Paul
answered. "Use yourself as a lure?" McMahon asked, "What makes you think shell take
the bait?" "Vangies a narcissist and an egomaniac, and Im the only victim whos ever
gotten away from her alive," Paul said, a twinkle in his one eye, and a smile punctuating
his scarred countenance. Det. Harris protested, "I dont like the idea of you going after
this maniac all alone. Let me go with you." Suddenly a uniformed officer burst into the
room. "A couple uniforms just responded to a report of shots fired down in Compton,"
he said, "Someone hit a chop shop and smoked three young hispanic males with gang
tats. Parked inside was a white Bentley convertible with the engine still warm. The
report says the drivers seat was set for someone under five-seven…like a woman….oh
yeah and get this, three of the gangbangers were shot straight through the middle of the
forehead from at least twenty feet, and the third one had his face torn open like hed been
through a shredder, and his balls were ripped off and lying on his chest." "Still want to
go after Vangie with me, cowboy?" Paul asked Harris with a smirk. Harris swallowed
hard. "Well, it shows shes not that smart, capping gangbangers," he said. Paul shook
his head, "What it shows is that shes fearless, not even of dying. That makes her more
dangerous than any animal on earth."
Back in Hollywood, the red Ferrari pulled into the parking lot of an exclusive club. A
young valet opened her door and she took his hand while he helped her out. "Take good
care of my ride, cher," she drawled. "Dont worry," he said. Vangie gave him a steely
look that made him gulp, and she said, "Youre the one needs to worry, cause I can be
very unpleasant when Im angry." She gripped his hand firmer, and placed one finger
from her other hand on the back of his and caressed it lightly in circles. She smiled and
whispered, "And Ill be very angry if I come back and theres a..." she paused slightly,
"…scratch," she hissed, flicking her long nail quickly across the back of his hand, leaving
a thin crimson gash. The young valet winced in pain and stared incredulous at his
bleeding hand while Vangie sauntered away and went up the bouncer, who was standing
next to a slightly-built man with a clipboard. There were groans and complaints from
the people whod been waiting in line for an interminable time, but Vangie ignored them.
The bouncer, an enormous black man with huge biceps and a shaved head, cackled in a
deep baritone, "You got to go to the back of the line mama!" "Mamas gonna put you on
the ground, cher" she drawled. The bouncer guffawed, "Knock yourself out little lady!"
"Knock you out," she whispered. Like lightning Vangie grabbed his hand and bent his
wrist back at the same time as she buried her long thumbnail all the way into it. "Shit!"
he bellowed, but before he could tense his huge arm muscles he heard his wrist pop. The
pain shot through him and left him vulnerable for a split second, which was all Vangie
needed to stab her stiletto heel into the back of his knee, and as he crumpled and went
down, she let out a shrill yelp and gave him a quick chop to the throat. The huge bouncer
was unconscious before he hit the ground. "Sweet dreams, cher," she said, and as an
afterthought she turned back and said, "Youre gonna wake up with a bad headache,
cher," and she clawed his shaved head with her nails, leaving five bleeding gashes that
gaped wide on his tight skin. The people in line were dead silent, and Vangie stared at
the slightly-built man with the clipboard, who was shaking like a leaf. "G-g-g-go right
in," he coughed. "I surely will," Vangie smiled and walked up the steps, her stiletto heels
clicking, and her sexy hips swaying.
Vangies head throbbed and her loins ached with a profound heaviness. Her spree of
maiming and killing had aroused her so much that she desperately, painfully needed
sexual release. Inside the club, Vangie scanned the bar and the dance floor with
determined purpose, searching for a human victim to sacrifice to her superhuman carnal
hunger. A tall, incredibly good-looking and well-built man in his late thirties caught her
eye, and she caught his. He introduced himself as Brad, and asked if he could buy her a
drink. "Im an actor," he told her, in a way that made it clear he believed that should
impress her right out of her clothes. Vangie looked him up and down. "Are you gay?"
she asked forthrightly. "What? No! Jesus! What made you ask that?" he said, his
confidence completely drained. "Relax, cher, I was just messing around," she smiled.
Brads confidence began to return, "We could go back to my apartment and we could
mess around together." Vangie slipped her arms under his and around his back, and she
started kissing his neck slowly, while she rubbed her knee against his crotch, feeling him
get hard. "Damn, youre one hot lady," he said, panting. Vangie opened her mouth and
softly started biting his neck. "Fucking shit!" he exclaimed, "Lets get out of here!"
Brads black Hummer was parked out front and they both got inside. Vangie noted that it
had very dark-tinted windows and she smiled and bit her lip with anticipation. Before
Brad could start the engine, Vangie straddled his lap and resumed kissing and biting his
neck. He took her face and brought her lips to his, but she turned her head past and
started kissing and biting the other side of his neck, and she tore open his shirt and started
sucking and nibbling his nipples. Brad panted, "Dont you want to do it in bed? My
apartment is only five minutes…" but Vangie was already struggling to pull his pants
down, and Brad shrugged and helped her free his dick. She rose on her knees and
quickly impaled herself on his erection, and Brad let out a groan. Vangie churned her
hips around in circles and up and down, hard and fast. "Damn! Take it easy! Youre
gonna make me cum in like a second!" Brad pleaded. "That would be very unpleasant,
cher," she said. Brad chuckled nervously. "For me…and for you," she whispered in his
ear, and she pressed a nail into the side of his neck. "Ow! Shit!" Brad cried. Vangie
held her nail in front of him, and he could see it was covered with a thin film of his blood.
Then she licked it clean. Vangie closed her eyes and churned harder and faster. She put
her hands against the black leather seat and Brad heard a pop. He turned his eyes and
saw that her long nails had punctured the upholstery, and as she was gripping and pulling
it, the thick leather was tearing easily under the sharpness of her fingernails. Brad was
now focused desperately on trying not to cum. A sixth sense made Vangie open her eyes,
and out of the corner she saw the flashing lights of several police cars. Someone mustve
called the cops after what she did to the bouncer. There was a number of uniformed
officers, and three men in suits. She recognized Paul Vincenzo. But she desperately
needed to orgasm, and she knew no one could see into the dark-tinted Hummer, so she
kept screwing Brad. Seeing Vincenzo had heightened her arousal, and she could feel her
climax beginning. She wouldnt be needing Brad much longer, so she didnt have to
keep her hands occupied tearing the seat apart. She could do what her primal urge cried
out for her to do. Vangie slid her hands around Brad and buried her talons deep into his
muscular back. She bit his lips between her teeth to keep him from screaming. She
raked the sides of his face with her long fingernails, the sound of tearing flesh propelling
her orgasm over the edge. Wave after wave of bliss swept through her, hand over hand
she clawed her victim. Stopping just a moment to catch her breath, Vangie opened the
door and shoved Brads unconscious body onto the street, and she unhurriedly drove
away. A woman saw him lying there, slashed and blood-soaked, and she screamed.
Several cops and the three detectives ran to see. Det. Harris kneeled down and checked
for a pulse. He shook his head. He looked up at Vincenzo, "Jesus, how many more is
she going to do tonight?" "The others were foreplay, this one was the sex. Shes
satisfied for a while," he responded, "But she saw me. I know she did. Now its just a
matter of time until she comes after me. Meantime put an APB out on this poor slobs
Hummer. But make it clear nobodys to try to stop it. We dont want the body count
getting any higher than necessary. Shell ditch it quickly, lets hope someone IDs her
next ride."
Vangie knew she had to ditch the Hummer, and she knew if she stayed around the clubs
there were enough black Hummers that itd be hard to pick her out right away. She was
tired and cranky and needed someplace to sleep. A guy in a Porsche behind her at a red
light blew his horn as soon as the light turned green. She put the Hummer in reverse and
floored it, flattening the Porsches windshield and roof with the Hummers rear bumper.
She laughed as she sped off, unconcerned if shed killed the Porsches driver or not.
Vangie spotted a white stretch limo parked in front of a club and decided it would be
ideal. She could keep moving and sleep at the same time. So she parked the Hummer
and nonchalantly walked up to the limo. She tapped on the rear window and it went
down. Two hot young women were inside, and Vangie could see remnants of lines of
coke on the center console. "Can I join the party?" she asked. The hot girls looked at
each other and giggled, and one of them asked, "Got any X?" "Oh, I can give you two all
the ecstasy you can handle, cher," Vangie drawled with a wink and a smile. They opened
the door and Vangie crawled in and sat in front of them. "Lets go for a ride," she said.
One of the girls knocked on the privacy glass, and it rolled down. She told the chauffeur
to "just drive", and he nodded and raised the glass. Vangie whispered, "Can he hear us?"
"No, its like, totally soundproof!" one of the girls exclaimed. "Woo hoo, cher, laissay
lay bon ton roulet!" Vangie laughed. The two hot, coked-up girls looked at each other
and then at Vangie and said in unison, "Huh?" "It means lets party," Vangie said,
licking her lips slowly, and as the limo started rolling, she crawled over and sat between
the two young women.
"So wheres the ecstasy?" one girl asked. "Right here, cher," Vangie whispered, and she
held the girls head and deep-kissed her. The girl squirmed and whined and pulled back
and shouted, "Ewwww! Gross! Im not a fucking lesbo!" and she slapped Vangie across
the face. Vangie just smiled and rubbed her cheek. "Hey, Im sorry I hit you, its just
that…" the girl started. "Its my bad," Vangie said, "It wont happen again. Friends?"
"Sure. Friends," the girl smiled. "Its too bad you arent into it," Vangie said, and she
looked at the other girl and asked, "How bout you, cher? You go my way?" The girl
looked apprehensive, and shook her head quickly. "Oh well, this isnt my lucky night I
guess, eh cher?" Vangie said. She looked back at the first girl. "Youve got a beautiful
face," Vangie said, and the girl blushed and said a soft, "Thanks." "You know a good
plastic surgeon?" Vangie asked. "Of course! Would you like his card?" the girl giggled,
fishing in her purse. "You better hang onto it," Vangie said, and she quickly swiped her
long, incredibly sharp fingernails across the girls face, slicing four deep gashes in her
cheek. The girl shrieked in pain at the top of her lungs. Seeing her bright red blood
splashing onto her white jeans put her in hysterics, and she rolled on the floor of the limo
screaming and thrashing. Vangie spied an empty champagne bottle and hit the girl on the
side of the head, and she went silent and limp. Vangie turned to the other girl, who was
ashen with terror and cowering against the door, on the verge of hysterics herself, and
said, "Maybe now you decide to go my way, eh cher?" The terrified girl was shaking
like a leaf, and she kept shaking her head and whispering "Please…please…please…"
Vangie reached for the girls face, watching and relishing the fear in her eyes, but she just
stroked it softly with her hand. She deep-kissed the girl for a long time, and suddenly
stopped. The girl was shaking uncontrollably. Vangie dimpled the tips of her long, sharp
nails into the girls cheeks and whispered, "Act like you like it." She went back to
deep-kissing her, and although the girl was whimpering and shaking, she put her arms
around Vangie and caressed her, pretending that she enjoyed what was happening,
knowing it was a matter of life and death. Soon Vangie slid back on the seat and spread
her legs, and she brought the girls head between her legs. Stroking the girls cheeks with
her deadly long thumbnails, Vangie panted, "Do me good and maybe I let you keep your
face."
When the human survival instinct kicks in, especially in the face of an exceptionally
painful death, people can do almost anything, regardless of how repugnant it would be
under normal circumstances. The young woman went to work tonguing Vangies cunt,
doing her best to recall and replicate the technique that a guy once used on her which had
been very successful. Being high on coke was a plus, helping her not to gag. She could
hear Vangie moan, and knew she must be doing something right. She started to relax just
a bit, then she heard a pop followed by a ripping sound, and when she glanced up
momentarily she saw Vangies nails tearing through the leather seat. The feeling of sheer
terror overtook her once more, and she started to cry. "Dont stop! Or Ill tear you to
pieces!" Vangie panted, and the girl quickly resumed tonguing. Vangie took the girls
hands and brought them up to her breasts, and as the girl fondled her, Vangie caressed
the girls arms and shoulders. She tried not to use her nails, but now and then a wave of
pleasure swept through her and she lost control for a split second, and would hear the girl
cry out. When Vangies orgasm finally exploded inside her, she clamped her thighs
around the girls head, and she reached down and sank her nails into the other girl lying
on the floor of the limo, still unconscious. After several minutes, still basking in the
afterglow, Vangie relaxed her thighs and allowed her captive to lift her head. The girl
lifted her head, gasping for air, her hair matted to her face, glistening and dripping with
Vangies juices, her makeup smeared grotesquely. She looked at the numerous bleeding
lines on her shoulders and arms, and she looked at Vangie with tear-filled eyes. "Dont
cry, sweet pea. Those are nothing but little love-scratches," Vangie smiled, smoothing
the wet, matted hair off the traumatized girls face. "Whats your name, sweet pea?"
Vangie asked. The girl swallowed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand and said
barely audibly, "Brittany." Vangie laughed, "Figures. Mines Evangeline." The terrified
girl said nothing. Vangie sat up and slipped a nail under the top button of the girls
blouse and the button flew off, followed by the next two buttons in quick succession. She
put her hand on the girls chest and could feel her heart pounding. "You can call me
Vangie," she said softly. "Thats like Angie with a "V"," she continued, and with one
long, sharp forefinger nail she quickly carved a "V" into the girls soft breast. The girls
piercing scream of pain penetrated the soundproofing, and the limo screeched to a halt.
The privacy glass partition hummed and lowered, and the driver/bodyguard turned
around and started to ask if everything was ok, but when he saw the one girl sprawled on
the floor with her face cut and bleeding, and the other girls terrified expression, he cried,
"Jesus Christ!" and reached inside his coat and pulled his .45 automatic and pointed it
through the partition at Vangie. "Hands up!" he said with authority. Vangie smiled and
complied, but like lightning she lashed out with her foot and the guy screamed and
dropped the gun. For a second nobody moved. The driver/bodyguard stared incredulous
at his hand. Blood was dripping rapidly from his hand, his fingers had been sliced down
to the bone and the skin hung in ribbons. Vangie laughed and swiveled her shapely
ankle, spreading her toes with shiny red toenails. Long, sharp toenails. The
driver/bodyguard tried to raise the privacy glass quickly, but Vangie was faster, and she
grabbed him by his face with her long fingernails, and pulled his head backward through
the opening, then with her other hand she reached down and picked up his gun. "Drive
where I tell you, cher," she said, stroking the gun barrel against his face, and she released
her grip on his throat. Vangie sat back in the seat and played with the shredded leather.
She hooked her arm around Brittany and forced her down. "Give Vangie some more
sugar, sweet pea," she drawled, wrapping her thighs around Brittanys head.
The limo pulled up to a warehouse, and Vangie got out, pulling Brittany roughly by her
arm. She motioned with the gun, and the driver/bodyguard got out. He leaned against
the car holding his maimed hand, dried blood caked around the five puncture wounds on
his face. "Run!" Vangie commanded, and the terrified guy took off into the night like an
Olympic sprinter. About fifty yards away there was a streetlamp, and as he came under
its glow, Vangie raised the .45 in one hand and pulled the trigger, and the guy dropped
like a sack of flour. She turned to Brittany and smiled, "If I let go of your arm, youre
not gonna run, now are you?" Brittany shook her head. In fact, her whole body was
shaking violently, but she obediently followed Vangie into the warehouse. Once inside,
Vangie started undressing, and she turned to Brittany and said, "Take your clothes off."
"I think we caught a break," the desk sergeant said to Paul Vincenzo, "A homeless guy
reported seeing a white stretch limo park at a warehouse on the outskirts of Santa Monica
and saw two women getting out, one of them wearing a white party dress and the other
wearing a tight black tube-top and a short leather skirt and fitting Evangeline Boudreaus
physical description. The homeless guy said she shot the limo driver then forced the
other woman inside the warehouse." "Radio everyone to stand down. Im on my way,"
Vincenzo barked. "McMahon and Harris are already there, they just radioed they were
going in," the desk sergeant said. "No! Fuck!" Vincenzo screamed and he rushed out of
the squadroom. He raced downstairs and jumped into the first police car in the lot, and
he sped away in a squeal of rubber and a cloud of dust and exhaust. "Tell those idiots to
get the fuck out of there before they get themselves killed!" he shouted into the 2-way
radio, "I repeat, tell Detectives McMahon and Harris to vacate that warehouse and wait
for me!" "Ten-four," came the reply from a uniformed officer on the scene. But
seconds later his voice skwawked again, "Sorry, they must have their radios muted."
"Shit!" Vincenzo muttered under his breath, and floored the gas.
The warehouse was dark except for what little light peeked in through a few small
ventilation grates high up. McMahon motioned silently for Harris to go left, while he
went right. The two were tiptoeing slowly on their rubber-soled shoes, because the
empty warehouse magnified every sound like a tin can. McMahon spotted light coming
around a door that probably led to some kind of office, and he drew his gun and
approached with supreme caution. He peeked through the crack, and saw the outline of a
young woman in a black tube-top and short leather skirt. His heart was pounding but
Det. McMahon felt a rush of satisfaction. He burst through the door and shouted,
"Police! Freeze!" "Dont shoot!" she cried. "On your knees! Ankles crossed! Hands
behind your head!" McMahon barked, and she complied, whimpering, "Please dont hurt
me!" McMahon grunted, "Dont sound so tough now, do ya?" and he grabbed her wrist
and proceeded to apply handcuffs. He looked puzzled at her tiny hand. "Hell, those nails
dont look very sharp," he said. He pushed one with his thumb and felt it pop. "Christ,
they arent even real!" he laughed. "But mine are, cher," came a sultry drawl from
behind him, and she added to Brittany, "You look hot in my clothes, sweet pea." Before
he could turn, a stabbing pain shot up his arm, and he heard his gun hit the concrete floor.
Although it actually happened in the blink of an eye, for Det. McMahon it was as if time
had slowed to a crawl as he watched her sink her fingernails into his hand and rip his skin
away like peeling an orange. He screamed through clenched teeth and his survival
instinct and police training kicked in instantly, and he whirled, throwing all his weight
into a roundhouse punch. Vangie caught his fist inches from her face, gripping it in her
deadly talons, like an eagle. Quickly she turned his hand upside-down and bent his wrist
back in a practiced Akido move, forcing him to the ground and snapping his forearm
cleanly in two. He tried to get up, but Vangie spun and aimed a kick at his head.
McMahon ducked back with surprising agility, avoiding impact, but her toenails swiped
across his face, tearing five horizontal gashes and stunning him with the sudden and
intense pain. Stunned, he couldnt retreat when she quickly spun again, this time landing
a full kick to the side of his head. Vangie smiled and licked her lips in anticipation while
she calmly followed the injured detective across the room as he crawled backwards in a
ridiculously hopeless effort to escape. When she had him backed into the corner, Vangie
kneeled down and looked at the big man, who searched her eyes for a glimmer of mercy.
But like Paul Vincenzo had said, he saw no one but the devil staring back at him.
Evangline Boudreau smiled with incongruous sweetness, and she curled and flexed her
fingers and said, "Scratchy scratchy, cher." Across the huge warehouse, young Detective
Greg Harris heard his partners blood-curdling screams and he ran toward the sound with
his gun drawn and adrenaline coursing through his body. He saw the open door to the
lighted office and entered cautiously, sweeping his gun around. The screams had stopped
well before he had reached the doorway, and there was no one inside except Det.
McMahon. "Jesus God!" he cried, and instantly vomited, when he saw his partners
dead, blood-soaked body crumpled in the corner, his face clawed off beyond any
recognition.
Detective Harris began to sweat. He knew he was alone. He knew he was next. He
wished he had listened to Vincenzo, and he hoped Vincenzo would arrive soon. He
prayed he would live that long. Suddenly a girls scream echoed through the warehouse
from some distance away. For a second, Det. Harris wished he could just ignore it, just
hide until Vincenzo got there. But he was a good cop and a righteous man. Ice-cold with
fear, he cautiously proceeded back out into the warehouse, his eyes scanning everywhere,
gun at the ready. The scream came again, and he turned in its direction. There was
another doorway, this time however there was no light inside. Det. Harris tiptoed
stealthily toward the doorway, keeping low, ever vigilant. At the doorway he flattened
himself against the wall, and then quickly turned and went inside. Suddenly a hanging
light went on overhead. The brightness blinded him momentarily, and he braced for
being jumped. He blinked. About fifteen feet into the room stood a girl facing him,
wearing a black tube-top and a short leather skirt. He raised his gun, and the girl cried,
"Dont shoot me! Im not her!" Detective Harris finger twitched on his trigger. He
wasnt sure if it was a trick, he couldnt see that well. Like an apparition, Vangie
appeared behind Brittany, still wearing her white party dress, and she held the .45 to
Brittanys temple. She snaked her other arm around Brittanys bare midriff and said,
"Better drop that gun, cher, or Ill splatter her brains all over the room." "Kill her and I
kill you," Detective Harris said. Vangie laughed, "Well, there are three things wrong
with that, cher. The first is that Im a demon with a gun, and can I put one in her brain
and then yours before you can take a shot. The second is that you and I both know you
cant let me kill her. And the third is that unless youre gonna shoot through her, youre
gonna have to stand there and watch me claw her into little pieces." Brittany screamed as
Vangie dragged her nails across the girls bare midriff, blood trickling from the four thin
crimson lines. "Ok, ok!" Harris shouted, raising his hand in a gesture for her to stop. He
slowly laid his gun on the floor. "Kick it away," Vangie said, and Harris complied.
"Now do the same with your backup piece," she commanded. Harris took a snub-nosed
.38 from his ankle holster and kicked it across the room. "Now have a seat," Vangie said,
gesturing with her .45 toward one of two heavy wooden chairs. Detective Harris sat in
the chair. "You know what to do, sweet pea," Vangie said to Brittany. Brittany went
over to the young Detective with a handful of plastic cable ties and secured his hands
behind his back, and his ankles to the chair legs. "Im sorry," she whispered, "Shell kill
me if I dont do what she says." "Its ok," Det. Harris whispered, "Its going to be ok.
Youre going to be ok. I promise." "Thank you," she whispered.
"Vangie! Vangie Boudreau! This is Lt. Vincenzo," a deep, resonant voice echoed from
the darkness. "In here, cher!" Vangie shouted, there was palpable glee in her voice,
"Youre just in time. We were gonna start the party without you." "Let the others go.
Its me you want, remember?" Vincenzo bellowed. "Now, you know Im not gonna let
them go until I see you," she shouted. Suddenly Vincenzo appeared in the doorway.
"Kick your gun over there," Vangie said, pointing her .45 at Brittany and Harris Sig at
Harris. "Dont do it! Shes just gonna shoot you!" Harris screamed. "Shes not going to
shoot me. Are you, Vangie?" Vincenzo asked. She smiled, "That wouldnt be any fun."
He put his gun on the floor and kicked it away. "Ok, youve got me. Now let the others
go," he said. "Now? But the partys just starting," Vangie said, "Have a seat in that
chair." She turned to Brittany and gestured with her head. Brittany apologized to
Vincenzo as she cable-tied his wrists behind him and his ankles to the chair legs as shed
done to Harris. "At least let the girl go. You dont need her anymore," Vincenzo said.
"Do you want to leave me, sweet pea?" Vangie asked Brittany, "Its ok. Go. Run!"
Remembering the limo drivers fate, Brittany lowered her eyes but remained where she
was. "See, sweet pea wants to stay," Vangie said. "Wheres McMahon?" Vincenzo
asked. Vangie laughed, "He was being a party-pooper so I…" she admired her deadly
long fingernails, "…scratched him off the list." "Psycho bitch!" Harris screamed.
Vangie walked slowly over to Det. Harris. She sat on his lap and said softly, "Psycho
bitch? I dont mind the psycho part, in fact I kinda like it. But a bitch is a female dog,
cher. And if theres one thing you should know about me by now, its that Im all cat."
With that she licked one side of his face, while she made a graceful, feline sweep of her
hand and raked her incredibly sharp long fingernails down the other side of his face.
Harris clenched his teeth and grimaced. Vangie flashed a chillingly-evil smile. "So,
youre a macho dude, eh cher?" she said, "Bet I can make you scream like a little girl.
Lets make the stakes interesting: If you scream, you die."
"Let him go, Vangie. Let them both go. Make me scream, Vangie. You know thats
what you really want," Paul Vincenzo pleaded. "What I really want, cher, is for you to
watch. I know how much cops like to watch," she said. "Those were bad guys, but that
was a long time ago, Vangie," Paul said, in as compassionate a voice as he could muster,
"Hes just an innocent kid. He never did anything to hurt you. Let him go, please."
Vangie put her finger to her chin and cocked her head as if she were pondering it. Then
she smiled and tossed back her long, copper-colored curls and gave Det. Harris a hug and
gently kissed his cheek. Then she held his eyelid wide open with her thumb and middle
finger. "Ready?" she whispered, and she pressed her pointer fingernail to his eyeball and
began slowly increasing pressure. Harris clenched his teeth and made a gutteral sound
deep in his throat, willing himself not to scream although the pain was intense. "Ill
make the pain stop, if you scream," Vangie said softly. Harris remained stoic, knowing
that to scream meant certain death. Its funny how the human mind works, because his
refused to acknowledge that death was certain even if he didnt scream, in fact it would
be a much slower and more agonizing death. The will to survive often defies rationality.
Even when he felt her nail pop into his eye and the sight went black, Det. Harris refused
to scream. Vangie went to his other eye, and this time instead of poking her nail into it,
she just made little scratches in his cornea, time after time, each one burning like fire.
Vangie laughed, "Bet you think youre winning, eh cher? Sorry to disappoint you, but so
far I was just playing nice." She slithered down to the floor and slowly undid his belt and
unzipped his trousers, and worked them and his boxers down to his ankles. "Nice
package, cher," she said, brushing her soft fingers along his cock until despite his will,
shed given him a full-on erection. Vangie looked up at Det. Harris. The eye shed
destroyed was swollen shut, and the one shed only scratched was pouring tears and
twitching, yet the look of sexual arousal on his face was unmistakable. "Men are such
simple creatures, arent they, sweet pea?" she said to Brittany, who was sitting on the
floor playing with her toes and chewing on a strand of her bleached blonde hair.
"Whats your first name, cher?" Vangie asked Det. Harris while she continued stroking
his dick with her fingers. After a second and he hadnt answered, she ran the tip of a nail
along his shaft and said, "I asked you a question, cher. Its rude not to answer a lady."
"Greg," he whispered. "Is that short for Gregory?" she asked. He nodded. She said,
"You can call me Vangie. Its short for Evangeline. They named me for where I was
born. In a whorehouse there, you know?" "I know," Harris said. "Am I giving you
pleasure, Greg?" she asked, running the tip of her tongue up and down his dick while she
fondled his balls. "Yes," he admitted. "Im glad," she said sweetly, "Now Im gonna
give me some pleasure." Vangie buried her nails completely into his thighs and squeezed
hard. Harris almost screamed from the suddenness of the horrific pain, but remembered
and clenched his teeth and stifled himself. "I can dig my nails in all the way to your
bones," Vangie informed him. He could feel her nails scrape his femurs, the pain was
excruciating, at the same time as her soft, warm tongue sliding around his cock was
driving him crazy. "Want me to take my nails out of you?" she asked. "Yes!!" he cried.
"Okay," she said sweetly. She laughed as she yanked her hands up, fingers still curled,
her brutally-sharp long nails tearing through his flesh. Det. Harris blood-curdling
scream echoed from the four walls. "Aw, shucks, cher. You lose. Too bad. Just when I
was fixin to suck your big ol cock," Vangie drawled with a disappointed sigh, "Now
you made me have to scratch it." Harris let go another sickening scream as Vangie sank
her talons into the base of his hard cock and raked them rapidly up. Vangies eyes were
wild, she clawed her deadly long fingernails into Harris nutsack and tore with savage
glee. Holding it up like a trophy she closed her other nails on his throat and ripped it
open in a fountain of tissue and blood. Paul Vincenzo gasped in horror. Vangie was still
wearing Brittanys white party dress, and when she turned and smeared her blood-soaked
hands on the front, Brittany screamed hysterically and tore at her hair. "Aw, shucks,
sweet pea! Dont worry, well get you a new dress!" Vangie said consolingly. Brittany
looked at her with incredulousness and began to weep. Vangie went over to her, and the
terrified girl cowered away, but Vangie just kneeled down and took Brittanys hands.
She had picked off all her fake paste-on nails exposing her short little natural ones, and
Vangie kissed the girls boyish-looking fingers and said, "Sweet pea, were gonna have
to grow you some nice long nails!" Brittany closed her fingers to hide them, and began
to sob uncontrollably. Vangie held the girl in her arms and rocked her and smoothed her
hair and whispered, "Hush, baby, its gonna be ok. Mamas gonna keep you safe." She
slipped her nail into the black tube-top Brittany was wearing and exposed her breast. The
"V" shed carved into it with her sharp fingernail earlier was red and angry and had
scabbed over. Vangie kissed the sore wound, which made Brittany jump, and Vangie
whispered, "Mama loves you, sweet pea." Then she walked over to Paul Vincenzo. He
strained at his binds and tried to rock the heavy chair, but neither had any effect. "Its
time for us to party, cher," she said with sinister passion in her voice. She dug through a
small duffle and retrieved a little case, and from the case she extracted a hypodermic,
which she brought toward Vincenzos arm. He bucked and struggled, and Vangie sighed,
"Why do men always have to do things the hard way?" and she jabbed the needle into his
neck and pushed the plunger. In seconds Paul slumped over unconscious.
When he awoke, as his one eye began to focus, he saw Vangie putting away another
hypodermic, evidently the antidote to whatever shed used to knock him out. As his head
cleared further, he realized he was wearing nothing but his black eye patch, and lying on
some kind of padded mat on the floor of another room. He scrambled to his feet, still a
little unsteady. He looked around the room and it was completely empty, save for the
padded mat that covered the entire floor. Brittany was sitting huddled in a corner, staring
blankly at nothing in particular, humming softly to herself and rocking back and forth
rythmically. Vangie was wearing a red satin robe, which when Paul saw her she undid
the sash and let the robe slip off her. She too was nude. She circled him slowly, eyeing
him up and down. Her body was very petite, almost waif-like, accentuated by her fluffy
mane of copper-colored curls and amber-colored skin. She looked so small and
vulnerable, and Paul Vincenzo had to consciously force himself not to be seduced by her
illusion of weakness. He kept himself facing her at all times, his gaze focused on the
long, sharp nails emanating from each of her fingers and toes, which helped remind him
of how dangerous she was. "Are we gonna dance or fight?" Vincenzo asked. "I love to
dance, cher," she said softly, batting her long, dark eyelashes and flashing her disarming
smile, "Slow, and close." Paul felt himself starting to respond to her sexually, and he bit
his tongue to shake it off. He hadnt realized how near hed let her get. Like lightning
she let out a piercing shriek and spun a kick at him. It felt like a ball of fire burned across
his chest, and when he glanced down he was bleeding from five gashes across his front,
from her razor-sharp toenails. Vangie wiggled her toes and laughed. He knew he was
much stronger than her, and if not for her nails he could easily overpower her, but
knowing what she could do with those nails was a powerful inhibitor. On the other hand,
if he did nothing, she would slice him up anyway, one piece at a time, so he figured he
had nothing to lose. If he could land one punch he was sure he could disable her, maybe
even knock her out.
Vincenzo lunged at her, but she caught him by his upper arms and sank her long
fingernails in deep, causing him to cry out in agony. At the same time, she went down on
her back, tucking her legs under her and flipping Paul over her onto his back. She was
back on her feet in a split second, but it took Paul several seconds to get up. When
shed let go of him shed ripped her nails out of his upper arms forcefully, and Paul
realized that he could no longer tense those muscles, his arms were severely weakened.
Vangie knew shed injured him, and she brazenly went right up to him. Paul summoned
every ounce of his strength and punched her in the stomach. It was like hitting a
sandbag, so taut and toned were her abs. Vangie laughed and turned her face up to him.
Pursing her lips she said, "Go ahead, plant one on me, cher." Again Paul Vincenzo
summoned all his remaining strength and swung at her. She ducked his fist and snatched
at his arm, catching him by the wrist just loosely enough to let his arm continue to go
forward of its own momentum, clawing it up to his elbow. "I meant for you to kiss me,
not hit me, cher," Vangie said with mock hurt. Paul stared, stunned, at the long, bleeding
gashes on his arm. Suddenly he cried out in sudden agony again. Vangie was gouging
his foot with her dreadfully-sharp toenails, and she quickly kicked his other leg out from
under him and he crashed to the mat on his back. Vincenzo started to get up but Vangie
spun a kick to the side of his head and then brought her heel crashing down on his shin,
snapping his tibia. Paul Vincenzo knew it was all over. He had no more defense against
Evangeline Boudreau, let alone an offense. He lay on the mat in intense pain, naked and
helpless, his arms weakend by her sharp claws, his leg broken. Vangie walked slowly
around his wounded body like a lioness circling its prey. Vincenzo braced for her to
finish him off. He didnt know what shed do, but expected it to be the most painful
thing hed ever endured in his life. And the last. But then she sat down beside him.
Vangie stretched out on the mat beside Paul. She ran her soft fingers over the scars on
his face. "Ive never seen my scratchwork later, after its healed," she remarked. She
leaned in and licked her tongue along his scars. Vangie smiled and sighed, "Youre the
only man whos ever lived to heal. Did you know that? Youre like a walking piece of
art, cher. A masterpiece that I carved…with these." She rolled on her back and held up
her hands, letting the light from the overhead lamp play through her long, cruel
fingernails, lending them a ghostly, ethereal glow. "You know theres no way youre
getting out of this building alive," Vincenzo said. Vangie laughed, "What makes you
think I want to leave? Im having such a good time here, just you and me…and sweet
pea over there, watching."
Vangie rolled over partway onto Paul. She ran her bare foot gently up his broken leg.
"Does it hurt much?" she asked. "Like you care," Paul sneered. Vangie pressed her foot
down hard on his shin and he screamed. "I was being polite, cher," she said. She slipped
her thumbnail under his eye patch. "Can I see?" she asked, lifting it up. When she saw,
she closed her eyes and shuddered. Paul was astonished because he didnt think she
could experience shock or revulsion. Vangie opened her eyes slowly and sighed deeply,
and she smiled dreamily and lay her head on his chest. Paul realized she hadnt had
remorse, shed had an orgasm.
Paul felt Vangies foot slide up his leg again. This time she brought it up to his crotch
and started stroking his dick with her toes. Though he was in significant pain, Paul
couldnt help but harden to her expert touch. "I bet you never thought youd ever get
naked with me, did you, cher?" she whispered. Vangie started to kiss Pauls chest, to
lick and suck his nipples. "Im a great fuck," she said, reaching her hand down to his
cock. "The best fuck youre ever gonna have," she panted, taking over stroking his cock
with her hand. Paul was confused and scared, but he was grateful that the pleasure she
was giving him was taking away from his pain. "Maybe the last fuck youre ever gonna
have," Vangie smiled, and clawed her sharp toenails into his thigh and raked them slowly
down. He cried out in pain, and she could feel his dick soften in her hand. She laughed,
"After I ran away from the whorehouse, I was 14, I was hungry so I had to turn a trick or
two, and there was this guy, he saw my nails and offered me double if I scratched him
hard. Said pain always made him get hard." She stroked Pauls cock rock-hard again,
then put her foot back up on his hip and raked her sharp toenails slowly back down his
thigh again, feeling him again get soft as he cried out. Vangie continued, "But hed never
felt anything like the pain from my nails, cher. The first time I scratched him made him
go completely soft. The second time, he peed himself. And the third time, he passed out
cold. I had to throw water on him to bring him to. Then he said he wasnt gonna pay
me." Vangie had Paul hard again, and she put her lips up to his ear and whispered, "So I
scratched him a fourth time. That one, he never woke up." "There are people who can
help you, Vangie," Paul Vincenzo said, "Let me get you help." Vangie stroked his face
gently with her hand. "Really? Youd do that for me?" she asked sincerely. "Yes I
would," Vincenzo said, "I promise, I wont let anybody hurt you. Ill see to it you get
help. You have my word. What do you say we get dressed and get out of here?" Paul
said. Vangie smiled sweetly and stroked his forehead. Suddenly she slipped the tip of
her sharp pinkie nail into the corner of his one remaining eye and tugged the lid down
slightly. "Do you think Im stupid?" she whispered. Paul froze, trying not to breathe.
"No, I dont think youre stupid. I think you need help." She let go of his eyelid, but
clawed her nail slowly down the side of his face leaving a long, bleeding gash. "These
are all the help I need, cher," she said admiring her long fingernails. Quickly Vangie was
smiling again and resumed stroking his cock. "Lets fuck, cher," she whispered, "If you
please me, I might let you live." "Im fairly certain youre gonna kill me anyway,"
Vincenzo said, "So why should I pleasure you?" Vangie said, "Because if you dont Ill
kill you slowly...scratch by scratch." And to make her point, she sank her insanely-sharp
fingernails into his sore triceps and started digging until he could feel her nails scraping
his bones. Vangie had to slap him a couple times to keep him from passing out from the
pain. Suddenly she was sweet and tender again, placing soft, warm kisses on his chest
and she whispered once again, "Im horny so lets do it."
Paul Vincenzos mind raced. He knew there was no way out for Vangie, no way for her
to escape. Whether he lived or not, she would be captured or killed. He believed she
intended to kill him, but he had nothing to lose by going along with her. Maybe by some
miracle he could come out of it alive. His arms felt like lead, but he managed to lift them
enough to embrace her, and when he did, it felt like she melted into his arms. They
kissed. She had soft, warm lips and a magic tongue. She caressed him tenderly but
passionately with her fingers and toes, never once scratching him even accidentally. It
was as if she could retract her claws, like a feline. Fighting the pain of his broken leg,
Paul managed to get on his knees, and Vangie wrapped her arms and legs around him as
he entered her. "Do me hard and fast," she panted, licking and sucking his ear. Paul
Vincenzo thrust into her powerfully. "Yes! Yes! Yessssss!" Vangie moaned and
shuddered as she came, and then she sighed, "That was good, loverman. Dont stop."
Paul continued to thrust into her while they kissed, and she caressed his back softly with
her hands. She began to use her nails, and he tensed up. "I have to," she whispered,
"You understand. But Ill try not to do it too hard." "Thank you," he said. "I dont want
you going soft on me," she responded. Vangie snaked her tongue inside his mouth and
held his face with her hands. She lifted his eye patch gently over his head and off. "No
woman has ever seen me without the patch," Paul said. Vangie licked the gruesome scar
where his eyelid had been sutured shut, and dug her fingernails into his back and her
toenails into his ass while she shuddered from her orgasm. "My bad, cher," Vangie said
as she carefully extracted her talons from his flesh, then she smiled and sighed,
"Mmmmm! Youre still hard!" She started churning her hips. "More. I want more,"
she panted, churning faster. She heard Paul groan. "If you cum now, Ill skin you like a
muskrat," she whispered, stroking his face menacingly with her deadly long fingernails.
Although he was in great shape, Vincenzo wasnt a young man, and he was beginning to
fatigue. His body ached from the numerous places Vangie had raked him with her nails,
and his broken leg throbbed. He worried he might cum, and she would claw him to
pieces. He worried that he might lose his erection, and she would claw him to pieces. He
worried that worrying might cause him to lose his erection! Vincenzo mustered his
willpower and soldiered on, imagining himself running a marathon. Play through the
pain, he kept repeating to himself inside his brain. Vangies sexual needs seemed to be
insatiable. Every time she had an orgasm it seemed to make her desire for another one
grow stronger. And with each more intense orgasm, she would scratch him harder and
deeper, weakening him further. By now he could sense when she was about to climax,
and prepare to brace himself for the white-hot pain of her insanely-sharp nails. He
refused to focus on the pain, or the destruction she was wreaking on his body. Paul
Vincenzo was literally fucking for his life. "You have big, strong shoulders, cher. I think
big, strong shoulders on a man are soooooo sexy," Vangie sighed even as she clawed
long, deep, bloody gashes into them. Finally she announced, "I wanna be on top now,
cher."
Vangie flipped him roughly, mindless of his broken leg, and Paul cried out. But he was
glad to get off his knees and on to his back on the soft floor mat. "Wanna rest for a spell,
cher?" she asked sweetly. "Yeah," he sighed. "Too bad. I dont," she said with cruel
intensity. She lowered herself onto his cock and began her hard, rythmic churning and
bucking. Vangie lifted his hands to her small breasts. "Remember, cher, if you
cum…skinned like a muskrat," she smiled, raking his arm just hard enough to draw
blood. Soon she was moaning, and the moans gave way to wild screams. The realization
hit Paul that when she was on top her orgasms would be even more explosive…and, for
him, painful. Suddenly she reached out and clutched his pecs. Vangies nails sank into
his hard muscles like hot knives though butter, and Paul screamed at the top of his lungs.
She fell forward against him, limp, and fortunately also relaxed her grip. "Ooooh, I bet
that hurt, eh cher?" she said while she slowly and carefully withdrew her fingernails from
him. "But it was sweet pain," she said while she placed a kiss on his neck. Paul prayed
she was done, or at least satisfied for the moment. But she quickly placed another kiss on
his neck, and then another, and another, and her breathing quickened, and Paul felt her
cunt contract around his cock. Her hot, ragged breath buffetted his ear, she whispered,
"Im gonna scratch every inch of you." And she sat up slowly, dragging her sharp long
fingernails cruelly over his torso, splitting his skin open behind them. The marathon was
on, again.
Both of their naked bodies were smeared with Pauls blood. If Vangie could have looked
from above she would have been ecstatic, because the padded floor mat looked like an
artists canvas painted with wide brushstrokes of crimson, and after all she considered her
mayhem art. As she crested at the peak of another orgasm, a voice shouted over a
bullhorn from outside the warehouse, "Evangeline Boudreau! This is Captain James of
the L.A. S.W.A.T. team. Your only chance to survive is to release your hostages, and
come out with your hands behind your head. You have exactly five minutes to decide,
after which we will assume the hostages are dead, and my men will enter the building
with orders to shoot you on sight." "Vangie, please, theyre not bluffing," Paul said, "Do
as they say. I promise I wont let them kill you." Vangie laughed and calmly resumed
churning her hips, "Five minutes is enough time for us both to cum. You do want to
cum, dont you cher?" "And then we both die?" Paul said. "Can you think of a nicer
way to die?" she smiled, and leaned forward and kissed his lips tenderly, and then
passionately. "It doesnt have to end this way," Paul pleaded. Vangie said, "Therell
never be a happy ending with a white picket fence for me…or you, cher. We are both
what others made us." Lying on top of him with her knees under his armpits, her feet
against his hips digging her sharp toenails into him, she churned her hips around faster
and faster, bucking against him hard. She clamped her lips on his. Mouths joined in a
frantic, driving kiss, their mutual screams were muffled within. Her screams of orgasmic
bliss, his screams of unimaginable pain as she reached behind his back and tore through
his flesh with her long, rapier-sharp fingernails. Panting for breath, Vangie gasped in
Vincenzos ear, "Cum now, cher! Cum inside me!" There was a loud boom, the
S.W.A.T. team was ramming the warehouse door. Paul Vincenzo closed his one
remaining eye and let go. Vangie squealed out loud when she felt him shoot inside
her…and shoot, and shoot. "Woo hoo, cher! You been saving all that just for little ol
me?" she asked with a laugh. There was another loud boom.
"Its been real nice, cher," she said, "Too bad about those party-crashers. Wish it didnt
have to end." She cupped his testicles in her hand, Paul could feel the tips of her sharp
fingernails pricking his sac. He stared into her dark eyes, and saw the devil staring back.
Vangie smiled and let go of his scrotum. "Maybe next time, cher," she winked, and
turned to walk away. Paul grabbed her ankle. "Dont go out there alone. Let me take
you. I can protect you," he pleaded. Vangie lifted her other foot and raked his hand with
her sharp toenails, and he instantly let go. She laughed, "Scratch you later, gator." She
wrapped her robe around her and walked to the door. A pitiful little whine stopped her
and she turned around. Brittany was sitting on the floor with tears in her pleading eyes,
both her arms outstretched toward Vangie. "Oh…okay, come on sweet pea," she sighed,
and Brittany jumped to her feet and tagged after Vangie like a stray puppy.
"This is Lt. Vincenzo! Im in here!" Paul shouted when he heard the S.W.A.T. team
break through into the warehouse. He could hear shots fired, and lots of yelling. He
scrambled for his eye patch and put it on. The door burst open and two officers with
automatic rifles stood over him. Vincenzo barked, "Im unarmed you idiots, dont just
stand there posing like soldiers, call a bus, my legs broken. Oh, and someone get me
some goddamn clothes." Three S.W.A.T. officers helped Vincenzo cover up, and as
they carried him outside to await the ambulance he shouted, "Somebody better brief me!"
"Im Captain James," the S.W.A.T. commander said, his face drawn and ashen. "Lt. Paul
Vincenzo," Paul said. James exclaimed, "What kind of unholy beast from hell is she??
She took out four of my best men. Ive seen people mauled by bears that didnt look that
bad." "So did you get her?" Paul shouted. "She just vanished into thin air, like a ghost,"
James said somberly, shaking his head. Vincenzos heart pounded. He knew that as long
as Vangie was alive, her need to kill with her long sharp nails would never end, and as a
cop that terrified him. But somewhere deep inside him, as a man, Paul felt a glimmer of
relief that she wasnt dead.
Several miles away, on a deserted street, a manhole cover stirred, and two petite figures
crawled out and sat along the rim catching their breath. Evangeline Boudreau leaned
over and kissed the sore "V" shed carved with her fingernail in Brittanys breast earlier.
"I bet you know a lot of really hot guys, eh, sweet pea?" she said, combing her very long
fingernails through Brittanys touseled hair. Brittany smiled brightly and nodded.
Vangie said, "Suppose you text a couple of them to come pick us up." Brittany opened
her phone and put her thumbs on the keys, but suddenly she stopped. "Are you going to
scratch them to death?" she asked. "Well see," Vangie said. "Can I watch?" Brittany
asked.
-
The restaurant bar
The restaurant bar where Michel worked was dim and noisy. The music vibrated
and he had to go downstairs and get his earplugs, it's great music but it
gets
to you he told the line cook. He had been working since he got here from the
south of France 3 months ago. A friend had hooked him up here and he made
some money, but the great thing about the job was the women. One of the
owners was an ex boyfriend of some famous model or something and everyone in
town knew him and came to eat there, including some of the most incredible
women Michel had ever seen. While barbacking he got in contact with many of
these women as they almost always had to wait for a table at least a half
hour so they hung out at the bar. Clearing glasses and helping the
bartenders
put him face to face all the time with these women. The 2 bartenders being
wannabe models themselves he was the only guy behind the bar. He was fast, he
was cute, he worked out, everybody loved him, except that he was the shyest
guy around with his weak English and all.
Tonight he felt good except that he knew if he didn't protect his ears
they would be ringing B-tribe till way past dawn and he would never get
any sleep. Lisa the svelte Puerto Rican/ Canadian bartender pinched his
butt through the tight black jeans and shouted in his ear "the chick with
leopard top is on to yooooo" and laughed then kissed him on the back of his
neck. Michel looked up but just saw a woman's back with a head of dark hair
talking to 2 much younger women. Another mom showing her out of town nieces
what it's about, he thought and paid no further attention. He did have a date
tomorrow with a girl he met at the Pink Floyd concert and he really wanted
to work out in the morning to feel good for it.
Except that 20 minutes later he caught this woman staring at him. She was
alone now and though he didn't want to return her stare he saw as he headed
to the back station with an empty ice bin that she was about forty, very
beautiful and very elegant with just a small amount of jewelry and perfectly
tailored subdued clothing , even the leopard top looked quiet on her.
He went downstairs and got into a long conversation with the Ecuadorian food
runner about the merits of immigration lawyers, and when he came back up
to the bar the woman was gone. Tiffany the other bartender came straight
up to him yanked his earplugs out and said ' where the hell have you been,
you've been gone at least 20 minutes and I was looking all over for you'
'I was just downstairs, why ? what do you need ?'
'I just needed you ', she answered . 'That dark haired woman who was drinking
Hennesy and ginger ale gave me 20 bucks to get you but you were nowhere ! So
she left this note for you, I would watch for those older women though, you
know they are insatiable, especially this one'
'What do you mean by especially this one' ? he asked, as he opened a small
envelope with a note written on a blank expensive card.
' she just has this sort of aura about her, like a power, and she speaks with
a British sort of accent, only it's not British you know, I don't like
accents except yours' and she tousled his hair., 'and that's only because
you have big muscles' she added
On the note in a flowing handwriting it said 'Meet me outside in 10 minutes
or call my cell phone at 555-5134.'
Michel just tore it in half and through in a dirty glass , as he removed it
from the bar ' old horny broad ' he muttered to Tiffany , and they both
laughed.
At 3 when his shift was over Michel went out and was real glad to see Ramin
outside waiting for him. Ramin drove one of those blacked out company cars
for some advertising agent and lived in the same neighborhood as Michel,
about 25 minute drive or about a $20 taxi ride. With Ramin he just had to
give him a few beers from his backpack, which he took every night from the
restaurant anyway, and buy him a drink if they stopped on the way. Ramin was
a funny guy and loved telling Michel stories about Egypt where he was from
and about the women there, who went veiled all day in the street but played
the scene extremely well behind closed doors.
'AHH Michel How are you tonight' ? he asked, as Michel got in the front seat.
'Good, good' Michel answered ' what are all those fancy bags in the back' ?
"Oh I met a woman today from my country an aristocratic one from the old
families, and she asked me to deliver these to her house as she was going to
be home very late tonight'.
'Maybe she will invite us in for a drink, I think she likes me' he added
with a smile.
'OK that's cool' said Michel 'where does she live'
'Over on June street not that much out of the way, if she doesn't offer a
drink we can go to that cool bar The Bedroom, on Rossmore'
They were both quiet as they drove and Michel fiddled with the radio till
he came to a talk show in French about the Haitian problems with immigration.
They got to June street and Ramin slowed down near a large house with marble
pillars and said, ' Wow I think this is it'.
They got out and they both grabbed the bags, about five in all from various
high end clothing and gift stores, and walked to the front door. Ramin rang
the bell but heard no sound so knocked a few times but no one came to the
door.
'Let's go around the back there probably is a side entrance which they can
hear better in this huge house', suggested Michel, and they proceeded.
In the dark side of the house they finally found another door that was
swinging open, when they were blinded by 2 projectors shining straight into
their eyes. A gruff voice said ' this is pinkerton security put your hands
where I can see them' and the sound of a gun hammer being cocked followed.
Scared shitless they both dropped the bags and put their hands behind
their heads. Michels wrists were immediately shackled as he began to protest
but the projector lights went off, the doorway was lit up and a soft voice
said ' Thank you Ramin, you can go now , and give that stuff to your wife
or mistress or whatever, and thank you too, you wonderful guards I shall be
sure to give a commendation to your superior' and Michel was shoved in
through the door.
As the door closed behind him the voice still soft but now with a definite
edge to it whispered in his air 'no one has ever turned me down, and neither
will you when tonight is over.
His hands helpless behind his back Michel was softly prodded into sitting
room with exquisite furniture and one mirrored wall. Right in front of this
wall was a couch and a few chairs where he was set down and the woman was
behind him. All this time he had not even got one good look at her she was
always behind him , even now as they approached the mirror the lights were
dimmed by a remote control she held in her hand.
From up close the mirror was actually a glass into another room with the
floor about 2 feet lower then the one they were on. The room was dark but
he could discern some movement , and then the soft t voice began.
'I liked you when I first saw you a few days ago at the restaurant you work
in, you are young, have a lot of energy and I can tell you are not from here
You have a nice strong body and I was going to treat you very right and
have you help me with something I needed but now that all is changed. I don't
take rejection very well, and now you will help me whether you like it or
not'.
While she was talking a backlight went on in the room he was looking into
and two figures were silhouetted by it. It was of two women and all you can
see were the shapes of their bodies which were incredible. One was tall and
obviously worked out with defined muscles and large breasts. The other was
a more effete figure with almost no breasts and a lithe whiplike body that
looked very supple.
The woman continued; 'my name is Norit and I am in a very particular line of
work. I educate certain girls in many different arts and skills they can
not learn anywhere else. I'm very highly paid and well worth it, and my
students always come in pairs. that creates direct competition between them
and women must learn to compete. Tonight's competition is a beauty
competition and you will be the judge. You now see their bodies and you will
see each of their faces for only 10 seconds. Beauty is an inner concept and
in ten seconds they must do their best to captivate your mind'.
She then spoke softly in another language and the lights went out in the
other room. Norit continued; 'the first girl you will see is the taller one
her name is Marisa and she is Sicilian-Irish what a combination! The second
one is Emma and she is from the Caucasian mountains and is a very special
girl, the last time I had a girl from that area was 12 years ago, few get
out but they are very particular'.
A light went one immediately in front of him and a face was there not 10
inches away but separated by the glass. Copper red hair long and flowing
framed the most gorgeous girl he had ever seen, it was one of the nieces
only he had not looked at her closely in the bar. Dark, black eyes shone
with an unearthly light from under wide dark eyebrows, which made the eyes
ever more intense A full sensual mouth with stung lips was just beginning to
smile when the light went out.
Before he had a chance to say anything the light went on again and a sweet
looking face with short , cropped jet black hair looked at him with smiling
blue eyes. A wide mouth just barely open with brilliant white teeth was
smiling but those eyes were all sweetness and oh so blue. As soon as the
light went out Norit continued.
Before you decide I must tell you there is a catch here you see the one who
you decide is less beautiful will be punished severely. Have you ever heard
of a sensory deprivation tank? Well probably not it is a metal tank with
half filled with water and a magnesium sulfate solution the heated to body
temperature. A subject is placed in the tank and the tank is closed. You hear
nothing, see nothing, smell nothing and feel absolutely nothing. It's
relaxing for about 5 minutes then the mind begins to wander and go deep
into the psyche. To make it even better a powerful electric current is
randomly passed through the water, the subject can not even hear herself
scream as she waits if it will come and when, a true mind altering experience
I must say but it has it's purposes.
The girl that does not get chosen tonight as the more beautiful of the two
shall spend 1 hour in the tank. So you ask what has it to do with me ?? now
is where the fun begins. After an hour you will be put in that room with her
and you will fight her. No weapons, no advantage, no chains on anyone of you,
a nice fair fight. No big deal you say, I'm big and strong. Well don't
forget that she clearly understands that was your decision to put her in
the tank. And listen closely if she loses the fight she knows she will go
back for 2 hours, so motivation on her part is not a problem, and let me tell
you these girls fight dirty. If you lose which I am sure you will your
punishment will be decided later, but as you may imagine it won't be a slap
on the wrist'.
'Why are you doing this to me' Michel whined. Norit laughed a wicked laugh
that seemed strange compared to her soft voice and said, ' I asked you
nicely and you did not come so now you get the hard way. You have 30 seconds
to make your decision'.
Even though he knew that he could beat both of them he decided to play safe
with these crazy women and said, 'they are both incredibly beautiful but as
I have to choose I choose the first girl with the dark eyes as the more
beautiful' .
'Wise choice', said Norit as she walked away, ' I'll be back shortly don't
even dream of going anywhere you'll only hurt yourself ' and the room was
pitch black.
Michel heard some voices , a few protests and the all was quiet. After about
ten minutes he heard the click of heels and Norit returned and prodded him
toward a door on the side. The door opened and she said 'oh watch your step'
as she shoved him down the three steps. He fell on the floor which was a
soft carpet and heard a ping as she said 'don't forget this' and threw him
the key to the shackles. The room was so dark you could see absolutely
nothing even after Michel waited to see if his eyes would get used to the
darkness, so he groped around with his face until he found the key, took it
in his mouth and walked straight until he bumped into a wall. He then
dropped the key in the corner sat down with his back to the wall and after a
few minutes of groping finally got the manacles off. He rubbed his hands
and proceeded to what he imagined was the center of the room and lay down.
After a long nights work and now this he promptly fell asleep.
He was awakened a very slight scuffling sound and he sat up. The room was
still absolutely dark and he could see nothing. all of a sudden he heard a
whooshing sound and something jumped on him from behind. he felt a searing
pain in his upper chest and almost simultaneously a cold sharp object touched
his right eyelid. Then the thing let him go and a voice said through a
speaker 'Emma you're supposed to wait till the lights go on, and the they
did. Michel put his hand to his chest and saw blood on his hand and said 'I
thought there were no weapons' The voice laughed as the lights were adjusted
to a comfortable dimness 'there are no weapons, but what can I do if she
scratches you, maybe you can scratch her back. I see she already got your
eyelid very cleverly it will now continue to drip blood into your eye
hampering your vision for enough time to do what she has to do.
And it was true his eye was stinging from his own blood which was dripping in
drop by drop into his eye. He turned around to try to find the girl but what
he saw was completely different. Those smiling eyes now looked like the eyes
of a trapped animal full of hatred she was wearing absolutely nothing and
his eyes caught her large erect nipples on her tiny breasts. Then as he
held one hand to his bleeding eye he looked down at her hands, she was about
10 feet away and he saw long fingers with nails which looked to be almost
as long as the fingers . they were at her side so the only one he saw the
front of was the thumbnail and it was natural no polish at all but glinted
in the light. He was trying to get a better look at the tip to see if it
had a point when she lunged at him in one jump knocking him off his feet.
His already torn T-shirt was torn off completely as he felt her nails rip
his chest again while the other hand went for his throat. He quickly turned
over knocking her off him but she was quick too and was up before him. As
she lunged again at him he lifted both hands to ward her off but all she did
was grab the top of his jeans and yank them popping all the buttons right
off and cutting him just under his navel in the process.
The voice began again ' what are you going to do now Michel, she seems
intent on undressing you, will you keep one hand on your eye and one to
hold your pants up? I think you better start taking this girl seriously
for she intends to hurt as you may already see. Those nails are like razors
now aren't they ?she takes care of them very well it's been 2 years now
since she cut them but she files them every day and look what a marvelous
job they are doing on you'.
Michel looked down at his chest and saw blood oozing from the two swipes she
had given him and began to get mad. He removed his pants and was left
standing in his CK boxers and those beautiful nipples had given him a semi
hard on. he decided right then that he would just get this girl with one
punch, knock her out and chain her and get it over with. Sadly for him that
was not the case at all.
Michel was faced with two problems; One- she was much faster then him,
Two - he could see only from one eye, because his right eye was half closed
due to the blood dripping into it. He began going straight towards her but
she circled and stayed to his right, out of reach. He tried to lunge
straight at her but she sidestepped and opened a light gash in his upper
arm. All this time Norit was still taunting him over the speaker. 'Just
you wait till she really claws you might need a blood transfusion for all
the blood you will lose.'
Michel thrust forward again but Emma quickly moved behind him and kicked him
in his upper thigh, it felt like someone had stabbed him with a hardened
steel knife. He put his hand to where she had kicked him and it came up
all bloody, and his look of utter surprise was immediately replaced by one
of pain as she kicked him again , only this time on his ass. He looked down
to see what he already knew was there toenails, not extremely long only about
half an inch but filed to a near point. Coming flying at him again those
beautiful deadly feet got him in the upper thigh. The expert kick coming
at a side angle from those powerful legs driving those pointed claws tore
one major gash, and a few smaller ones in his skin, after all the big toe
was easier to hold rigid and drive it straight into him.
Now Michel was scared, so far only about three minutes had passed since he
was first attacked and already he was bleeding from half a dozen places,
his underwear was torn in the back and he was being humiliated in front of a
few women, who knew how many friends she may have invited . But he was
strong and had a lot of stamina so he let out a piercing yell and charged at
Emma forcing her into the corner. She jumped straight at him wrapping her
legs around his waist and her hands on his upper arms.
He felt her hot breath on his face as the power of her jump knocked him to
the ground. Those brilliant teeth had locked on his nose keeping his head
down but that pain was drowned by the pain in his upper arms. She had sunk
all the nails of both hands in a viselike grip on his biceps. The rounded
scalpel like tips had easily penetrated the skin and were now embedding
themselves into his tensed muscles. His biceps were hard but those nails
were going right through them till about one and half inches of the nail
was in his skin.
Then with one motion she unlocked her jaw from his nose gave an earsplitting
shriek , and ripped her hands out of his arms. Bits of skin flew across the
room, and blood was beginning to gush from his arms. He tried to lift his
arms to push her off him but they were already losing strength from the
damage done to them. Her knees were already on his chest with the toenails
digging deeply into his stomach, as she moved her hands to his head. One
hand was raking his head which felt to him as if furrows were being left in
the bone of his skull, while the other was grabbing his left ear with the
thumb and middle finger till they met in a satisfying click, and a crescent
hole was formed over and over in his ear.
He finally mustered enough strength and turned his body over causing her to
fall on her side. As he turned he tried to grab her wrist in an aikido
hold that incapacitates an opponents arm but the nails dug in and slashed a
vein in his wrist which caused him to let go immediately. The next thing
he knew his underwear was torn off , and so was his right nipple. The whole
area about his nipple was being grabbed by her left hand , and as he looked
down at that hand he finally had a clear close-up one eyed look at those
dangerous digits. The fingers were bony and long but very strong and the
nails were a brilliant white without any coating coming from a long base.
The tips were not pointed but tapered and kind of rounded but the felt as
sharp as blades.
The hand tore away from his chest leaving a mass of red and he was knocked
down again. He fell on his butt and she was atop of him in a second her
nails going for his face. Above her scream he heard Norit say 'remember
Emma his face is for later' she laughed and his back and balls too.' Emma
got her toes into a new spot of his stomach and he felt them pierce the skin.
One hand was digging into the jugular vein , and the other had the index &
middle finger over his two eyes when Norit spoke again.
'You now have a chance to surrender , if you resist she will blind you and
slice your neck right open , you will most likely die seeing you lost so
much blood already. Hit your hands on the floor twice to acquiesce and
maybe if you can be useful to us we will have mercy on you'. With his body
burning in pain and his nose throbbing, Michel was not stupid enough to
dream he had a chance. He banged his hands wearily twice on the floor and
blacked out.
When Michel awoke he was on a bed in a windowless room with a camera above
him. The bed was large and comfortable, and he had a comfortable lined
chain
around his ankle. A large part of his body was swathed in bandages and some
parts had a dull pain throbbing in them. he tried to get up but the chain
would only let him sit up in the bed. There was water on a stand near him
and as he reached out to get it Norit entered the room with a dark well
built man in a suit. 'Michel. this is Dr. Hadj he recommends you rest a
few
days after all the stitches he put in you, but you will be fine for now'.
The doctor bent over him and checked his dressings to make sure they were
tight and not dripping and then left the room. Norit was dressed in a
beautiful white dress that made her look so innocent, but her voice sounded
dangerous as she spoke while she lifted a hypodermic from a table; ' now
we shall put you back to sleep for about 36 hours so you r body can heal
and
we can continue with the entertainment, don't worry I've called the
restaurant
and explained that you would be away for a few days maybe even a week'.
The
last thing Michel saw was the extraordinarily long fingers on the white
opera
gloves she wore as she plunged the syringe deftly into his upper thigh.
Cold water hit him in the face and his eyes opened. His body felt funny and
he realized that he was kind of suspended by two ropes at his wrist with
his
feet just resting on a black diamond set in a carpeted floor, so that his
arms remained perpendicular to his body like a cross. He was completely
naked, except for all the bandages. Marisa had been the one who had thrown
the water at him and Norit was in the corner sitting sipping a glass of
wine.
he immediately looked at Marisa's hands but the nails were not that long,
only about a half inch or so. She flicked his nose which still hurt, with
her nails and said; 'Fortunately for you I was punished a few moths ago and
she cut them off, otherwise I would cut out your heart and feed it to my
dog '
'Don't tease him' said Norit as she got up and stood in front of him he
will
be suffering enough. She held her hands to Marisa who pulled off her
gloves,
and licked her lips. 'Now first we shall remove these bandages and see what
we've got.' Michel was staring in fear at her hands which had moved to his
shoulders. Long elegant fingers with blood like crimson nails about 4
inches
from cuticle to tip, and about three inches over the finger tip. They were
all tapered but the two thumb nails came to a lethal point. They looked
very
strong and only curved slightly at the last inch or so. Michel was
hypnotized
they were beautiful and he could not even lookup into Norit's laughing
eyes,
he could only stare at those nails, and wonder how he had not noticed them
before.
With her index finger Norit sliced through all his dressings as Marisa
removed
them, it was like a scalpel through butter. Even the many layers of gauze
were sliced neatly open by the side of that fingernail. As each dressing
was
removed Norit and Marisa both gave signs of approval.
'Look at this one Norit she said as she probed the outside of his thigh, I
think that was 12 stitches alone', and laughed her soft laugh.
When all the dressings were off they stepped back and circled him and spoke
among themselves, then Norit told Marisa to get on her knees and begin
administering to Michele's member. Then Norit spoke;
'Marisa is very good at what she does, and she has wagered me she make you
ejaculate in less then three minutes, I say she can't. She will try while I
intend to make you realize what will happen to you if you do'
A 3 inch thumbnail slid in between his ribs while a devilish hand was
placed
upon his face. The thumbnail moved down then out leaving a 2 inch very
narrow gash that burned him inside. 30 seconds had past.
Marisa mouth was doing to him things that he had never felt before. It was
like he was one with her and he already felt the tugging in his scrotum.
He
was so enthralled he heard it a split second before he felt it,
a tearing sound as Norit tore four furrows on the top of his arm. The pain
was incredible and he forgot Marisa for a few seconds as he howled and
watched the blood well up.
45 Seconds: Norit was smiling as she looked as his arm and walked behind
him.
Marisa was getting him back to the point he was before when he felt both
his
ass cheeks being grabbed. Not using her thumbnails she had positioned her
four fingers against her palm with a nice chunk of his butt in between. She
then dug down and Michel almost fainted from the pain. She was squeezing
powerfully but slowly, drawing it out. Deeper and deeper he felt those
nails
slice into his skin, and then with one final squeeze he felt the nails
puncture through from the inside out. ' Now I feel my nails on my palm',
Norit said ' How do you feel?? I could now rip my nails out fast and take
half your ass with them, but I won't do that it looks much better this
way'.
She removed her nails back up the way she had out them in, and there were
eight bloody crescents on his ass.
1 minute: Marisa had felt his attention wavering and began to work harder.
But Norit has only just begun. She found on his wrist a series of about
18
stitches where Emma had sliced it open and very gently sliced open all the
stitches the blood began to drip but she slid a fingernail into the wound
and
began cutting the tissue underneath. Michel had never felt such pain in his
life as the nail moved slowly cutting another quarter of an inch beyond
what
had already been cut. She then shoved her nail at an angle until he felt
the
nail touch and scrape the bone. She just held it there and watched as
Marisa's
head had to move closer to his body as he had gone completely limp.
01:30 Marisa was not about to give up so easily she knew wagers with Norit
could be costly. She cupped her hand around his balls and began tickling
him
with her nails. They were polished clear only about a half inch over the
tip,
but thin and sharp, and you know the sharper they are the better they feel
when they are caressing you. In ten seconds he was rock hard again and she
moved her head off him just to let Norit notice that the game was not over
yet.
Norit had seen Michel unwillingly jump back into action and bent down
behind
him. Her fingers around his knee for support she drove both pointed
thumbnails
into the backs of his knees , that oh so tender spot that basically
supports
the body. She moved them a little to the right and a little to the left
widening the gash , then twisted her hands so the fingers were now vertical
making it look as if he was shot in the backs of the knees. Michel legs
buckled under him and now he was supported only by his bleeding arms, as
Norit twisted and turned those fingers back and forth gouging a quarter
size
hole.
02:00 Without waiting to see if this had any deflating effect, Norit
immediately grabbed his right foot and bent it backwards. This did two
things;
it slowed the bleeding which was getting too much and already
drops were flecking the carpet, and it gave Norit access to Michele's foot.
She made one long slice from just under the toes to his heel. She first
dug her index finger in till the skin broke, moved in about a half an inch
and then slowly moved down. She knew the pain was excruciating and that
made
her emit a small laugh. She then made five thin slices crossing this with
just the point of her thumbnail. 'You won't be walking for weeks' she
sighed
and dropped his foot.
Marisa powerful suction was trying real hard but Michel was softening on
her.
Her hand covered his balls tight with the nails still teasing and
caressing,
but she was watching Norit all the time and knew the pain he was suffering.
Michel meanwhile was only half conscious. The roller coaster of pleasure
and
pain had pushed his body where it has never been. These women were
probing,
hurting and pleasing every nerve ending in his body, and there were so many
areas of pain that all he could think about was the new one or the pleasure
in his groin.
02:30 Norit had lifted his other foot and began removing the pads from his
toes . She grabbed the second toe and with her thumb and index finger
pinched a s much as she could from the tip until her nails touched each
other . Then she just yanked it off. The third. The fourth. She left the
fifth and went to work on the big toe. One hand holding firmly the top
of his ankle with the nails embedded in the thin skin, she etched with the
point of her thumbnail a square in the skin of his toe. She then inserted
her middle finger straight in, and then turned in down behind the square
slicing as she went along. After slicing all the way down she pulled it
back
and peeled of his toe a thick flap of skin.
02:45 Marisa had a good sense of timing and she knew she was running out of
time. She pressed her hand firmly against his testicles as she tried one
last
ploy. If pain and fear was what impressed this wimp well she could do that
too. She bit. Hard. Just for one second and then she let go. Then she
bit
again. Harder and let go again. It was a message come or something is
coming off. She looked up for a second to see if she had any reaction and
Michel was looking at her wide eyed. Apparently some part of his
survivalist
instinct was still functioning because the look he gave her told her ;
message received.
As Norit was slicing the thin skin between his toes she felt his body
shudder
and got up. As soon as Marisa had felt the first drops she bit the tip
while simultaneously pinched the area between his groin and rectum with her
nails. She didn't need any more then was necessary and her nails cut the
skin and held the flow while her teeth ensured he was limp in 2 seconds.
' It is the second time you disappoint me', he heard Norit say, 'and you
know I dislike that.' She walked out without a word while the doctor came
in and sighed ' all that work for nothing' and gave him an injection, as
Marisa was untying his hands and chuckling ' at least you're still a man,
technically that is'.
To be Continued
--
D K
-
THE RIDE
THE RIDE
The first time I discovered that nails had an arousing effect on me was when I
was perhaps twelve. I and my best mate Trevor and his fourteen year-old sister
Laura (not their real names), who was home from public boarding school for the
Christmas holiday, were being chauffeured to a piano recital in the next city.
We were three across the rear seat of my mate's dad's automobile with my mate in
the middle. My mate and I were causing a bit of a row, so his dad bade him
exchange places with his sister.
It was cold outdoors, but afterwhile it became rather uncomfortably warm in-side
the automobile and we un-wrapped our scarves and opened our coats. Laura tugged
her pink knitted mittens off with her teeth and stuffed them in her pockets,
then she rested her hands on her knees. I happened to glance down
instinctively, and what I saw sent a shock-wave through me. She'd let her
fingernails grow quite long! They were all about one and a half centimeters,
slightly curved downward like talons, expertly manicured to rounded points, and
varnished a faint, transparent pink. I'd known Laura my entire lifetime and her
nails had always been barren of any growth whatsoever and as recently as late
summer I'd never paid any attention to her looks at all. But upon seeing Laura
with long, claw-like fingernails, everything about her--her eyes, her lips, her
hair--suddenly were quite fetching, and could feel that I was becoming aroused.
It made me embarrassed and uncomfortable, and I tried to distract myself, hoping
the feeling would subside. But even if I looked away, her long nails were in my
peripheral sight, and even if they hadn't been, I couldn't get their image out
of my head.
Of course, Laura thought of me, her little brother's mate, as 'adorable', and
didn't fathom that I was fancying her, so even when she became aware that I was
stealing glances at her, she simply smiled, turned toward me, and kissed me
softly on my cheek as she'd done many times in the past. This time however, her
innocent kiss served to increase my arousal--and the accompanying feeling of
guilt and embarrassment. As we motored on, Laura gazed idly at her nails and
began to clean under them with her long thumb-nails. Her woolen skirt and
stockings began to itch, and she scratched her legs, filling my head with the
sound of her nails and the sight of the white tracks they made in her skin which
was dry from the winter climate. Every so often she would turn toward me and
our eyes would meet and a warm smile would erupt on her full, pink lips, and her
chocolate-brown eyes sparkled. With every thump of the tyres over broken
pavement, I became more and more uncomfortable in my seat, and less and less
able to react to anything Laura did without becoming more infatuated. And Laura
went about treating me as she always had, unaware of the effect she was now
having on me.
My mate was fast asleep against the window and their dad was listening to some
wretched old-time music on the radio. Bored, Laura rested her wrists on my
shoulders and gently grazed both sides of my neck with the manicured tips of her
long talons. Out-stretching her arms on either side of my face and spreading
her fingers, her lips brushing my ear as they moved, she whispered "Would you
like a back-scratching? I've got fantastic nails for it." I was frought with
embarrassment, guilt and panic at that moment and stammered out something
incomprehensible. "All-right then" she said without attempting to clarify my
responce, and she leant me forward and tugged my shirt-tails out of my trousers.
She slid both of her hands up my shirt and placed her soft palms against my
skin. "This is going to feel absolutely heavenly," she said, and she began
slowly raking her nails up, down and across my bare back. I was completely
beside myself at that point, frightened and confused and embarrassed at what I
was feeling. I was struggling in vain not to succumb to the sensation of her
long fingernails on my skin, which was even more heavenly than she'd predicted,
and to quell the feeling that was escalating inside me. I tried to send my
thoughts off on every distracting tangent I could imagine...mathematics,
football, even my grand-mum's face. I attempted to accustom myself to her
scratching so as to become immune to its effect, but each time she would change
pressure or direction, and the more I fought it, the more it excited me. Then
she leant over and whispered, "I've got you in my spell, don't I" and she
pressed her lips to my neck and kissed softly. Instantly I lost my battle of
self-restraint, although some-how I managed to disguise it from her eyes and
everyone's ears. Thank heaven for it being winter, and I in heavy woolens, so
miraculously there was no embarrassing evidence of what had happened. Of course
I had to bear my own discomfort through the recital and the ride home
afterward...during which Laura gave her brother a back-scratching, the sound of
which drove me half-way mad, and then turned her attentions on me once again
with the identical outcome as it had had previously. When I saw Laura again at
Easter, she had cut her nails short, and whilst I lamented the fact, I was
grateful that I could now be in her presence without becoming aroused. Trevor
and I remain best-mates to this day, and I see Laura from time to time at
Christmas, but I've never confided in either of them the effect she had on me
with her long nails that day.
-
THE STEPMOTHER
THE STEPMOTHER
Edmund sat in the back of the limo, another year of prep school
completed. He dreamed of the time he would have with his dad
this summer. He absentmindedly fingered a postcard as he thought
about all the time they would spend together, just the two of
them, on the yacht, walking on the beach, and just plain
talking. On the back of the postcard was a note from his dad
from his fourth honeymoon. His dad had married, again. Another
money leaching bimbo in Edmund's opinion. One thing that his dad
had taught him was that when you are extremely wealthy, there is
a never-ending line of women who will do anything you want to be
with you. Edmund had watched his dad take full advantage of that
over the years. Edmund had stopped counting the number of
girlfriends, wives and one night stands that have gone through
the house. This latest stepmother would be the same. She would
be around for a year or two at most. As soon as dad grew tired
of her, she would be history. No bimbo would ever come between
their special father and son relationship.
Carlton brought the limo up to the house and opened the door
for Edmund. Edmund never spoke to the help unless he had to.
They were beneath him. Carlton had to hustle to get to the house
door before Edmund. Edmund never liked to wait, and he was not
shy about taking his displeasure out on anyone. "Dad?" Edmund
called, as he walked through the door. He heard the door leading
to the pool area open and close. Seconds later, his dad
appeared. At first glance, his dad had a haunted look that was
quickly replaced by a happy one. "Edmund!" Dad exclaimed as he
hugged his son. "How was Choate?" "Fine, but its good to be
home. What happened to your face? Did you have a fight with a
cat?" His dad looked embarrassed. The scratch marks were long
and angry looking. "It's nothing," he replied, "let's go out and
meet your stepmother."
She was lying on a lounge with only a table next to her.
"Cynthia, dear. May I present, Edmund." As Edmund got his first
look at Cynthia, he was surprised. Dad always went for the
amazon type women. Cynthia was shorter, about five and a half
foot with medium length, wavy black hair. She was wearing a
black and white sun dress. Her eyes were not the vapid look of a
bimbo but the bored look of a relaxed tigress. She had a cruel
downturn to her mouth. As Edmund glanced down he noticed her
large breasts. These breasts protruded in an oddly hostile
manner. One look at her hands completed the picture. She had
very long, dramatically curved nails done in a French manicure
style. In fact they looked like talons or claws. Edmund felt a
chill go through his body. He was sure of one thing. He did not
like this one. She would be gone by the end of the summer.
"Eddie, it's good to meet you. I've heard so much about you."
"Dad? when will the two of us go..." "Edmund! speak to your
stepmother!" Dad admonished, cutting him off. "My name is
Edmund, not Eddie." Edmund uttered, in an unfriendly tone.
Cynthia made a flicking motion with her left hand, as if she was
shooing a fly. "Son, why don't you go unpack. Wait for us in
your room. We will see you later." Dad interjected. "But dad"
"Now" dad cut him off, ending all conversation.
As Edmund reached the door, he heard the sound of a lighter
being struck. Edmund turned to see his dad on his knees lighting
Cynthia's cigarette. Edmund was shocked, his dad never allowed
smoking. As Edmund lingered by the door, Cynthia blew her smoke
right into his dad's face. Then she reached out with her nails
and stroked his face. "Oh honey, I'm sorry he......" Edmund
could not hear all that his dad was saying. As his dad started
to suck on her nails, her eyes met Edmund's. Edmund felt another
chill go through his body as he hurried through the door.
Edmund marched to his room, mad as hell. As he entered his
room, he noticed his luggage on the bed. "Winston!" Edmund
shouted. A minute later, Winston appeared. "Why is my luggage
still on the bed?" Edmund charged. "Madam requested that you put
your own clothes away, sir." Winston replied. "Not a chance"
Edmund stated as he started to leave the room. "Didn't Madam
order you to stay in your room, sir?" Winston asked. Edmund was
too angry to reply as he pushed his way past Winston and exited
the room.
Although Edmund wanted to defy Cynthia, he did not want to see
her again so soon. He wandered the halls of the mansion as he
thought about her. He envisioned her ugliness. What an awful
woman, he thought. I've seen ugly before, but this one takes the
cake. Her nails were especially ugly. They look like cat's
claws, not nails. No woman should have nails that long. They are
a sign of a cheap whore. That was what Cynthia was, Edmund
decided. She was a cheap whore who was not worthy of respect.
The next time he saw her, he would tell her that. His dad would
appreciate Edmund putting things in their proper place.
He decided that it was time to deal with the whore. Edmund left
the house in search of her. As he wandered in the gardens, he
heard the sounds of his dad and the whore. Edmund felt a little
trepidation as he paused. He got a fix on their location and,
for some unknown reason, decided to sneak up on them.
As Edmund peered through the bushes, he was shocked. The whore
was sitting on a bench. Her legs were spread. His dad was
between her legs, apparently eating her out. His dad had always
told him that in sex, the woman should do all the work. She was
only there to please the man. "When will you learn to pleasure
me?" she admonished. She reached out with both hands and raked
his dad's back. Edmund noted his dad's shredded shirt with
disbelief. The bloody shirt was ripped beyond recognition. His
dad was almost in tears. "Please, darling. I am trying" he
wailed. "Not hard enough" was the reply as she raked his back
again. "If you don't improve soon, I will have to put you down."
His dad was bawling uncontrollably. She swiftly grabbed the back
of his dad's head and brought her nail close to his right eye.
"Maybe I should cut out your tear ducts" she speculated as she
traced around his eye with her nail. "No, no. I'll do better
next time, promise" He claimed. She slowly drew her nail down
his face, leaving a red trail behind. "Cigarette" she stated.
His dad reached into his pocket and produced one. He put it in
her hand and then secured a lighter. After he lit her cigarette,
she kicked him away. "Drink" she uttered. "Be back before I
finish my cigarette." His dad scrambled away.
As she took another drag, she noticed a rustling of the leaves
of a nearby bush. Edmund, she thought. Things were going
according to plan.
Luckily for Edmund, he managed to avoid his dad as he made his
way back to his room. As Edmund went about the duties of
unpacking, his head raced. Edmund could not understand what had
happened to his dad. He had always thought of his dad as the
most powerful man around. To see him on his knees in front of a
woman was hard to comprehend. All of Edmund's core beliefs had
been shaken. He did not know what to do. One thing he was sure
of, was that Cynthia had to go. Just the thought of dealing with
Cynthia was enough to send his body into an uncontrollable
quiver. As Edmund stripped, preparing to go to bed, he did not
realize that he had not had any supper. He lay naked in the bed
hoping and praying that he would find the strength to set
matters right again.
Edmund woke with a start. Cynthia was there with a nail
poised right over his right eye. "Quiet", she whispered, "don't
make a sound". Edmund tried to move but found his arms and legs
bound. "No squirming either", she hissed, "we need to talk. That
is, I talk, you listen". As she spoke, she was lightly tracing
her nail around Edmund's eye. Edmund found the effect quite
unnerving. He shuddered uncontrollably. "You need to learn
respect, Eddie" Edmund started to reply, but a quick move of
her nail back over his eye kept him from speaking. "There, that
is a little better. This morning you would have spoken. You
managed to hold onto your eye for a little while longer. That is
progress." another shudder ran through Edmund as he imagined
Cynthia holding up her hand, giggling cruelly, with his eye
impaled on her nail. "You think of yourself as important" She
continued. "A little pain will start to help you understand your
true place". She started to rake his chest with both of her
hands. Edmund had never experienced much pain. Therefore, this
was a lot of pain to him. He started to tremble and cry as he
watched her hands deftly snake out. Each return trip was marked
by more pain. Cynthia was slowly working her way down his
chest. She was overlaying her slashes extensively. He felt a
growing wetness on his chest as he watched her nails flash out
repeatedly. They were starting to take on a reddish hue. He knew
that their new color was complements of his blood. He couldn't
believe that any women could inflict so much pain using only her
nails.
"Eddie, you must learn to respect your stepmother", as she
continued ripping into him. "In case you have forgotten. Let me
remind you of what being a stepmother means. A stepmother gets
to step on you whenever she wants to". With that statement, she
reached out a final time and slowly raked his cheek. "Pleasant
dreams", She chuckled as she walked out of his bedroom. He lay
in bed the rest of the night, crying. He never did get back to
sleep.
Over the next few weeks, Eddie adjusted to his new life. His
stepmother still continued to visit him some nights. Each visit
was quickly wearing Eddie down. A strange thing was happening to
Eddie, he was starting to actually enjoy being Cynthia's
scratching post. Cynthia appeared to sense this. She stopped the
visits.
However, she was not done with Eddie. He had to be properly
trained. Eddie acquired new duties. During the day, he spent his
time, as he had hoped, with his dad. However, this was not what
Eddie had in mind when he arrived home. They both spent their
time on their knees. His dad was by his stepmother's right hand,
Eddie was by her left. They would each fetch food, drink, light
her cigarette or perform whatever service she desired. There was
one service that was exclusively his dad's. That was oral sex.
Eddie would watch as his dad tried to pleasure her. Eddie would
feel a tightening in his pants as he watched his stepmother rake
his dad's back again and again. One look at his dad's face
indicated that he was fully enjoying himself as well.
Eddie spent most of his time with his stepmother focusing on
her nails. He loved the length and sharpness of them. Only
rarely would Eddie be permitted to feel how hard and sharp they
really were. Most of the time he had to content himself with
watching his dad get that pleasure.
This particular morning, Eddie was rigid with anticipation.
Earlier, his stepmother had informed him that her daughter was
coming for a visit. Eddie was so excited that he dropped a
glass, tripped over his own feet and committed other mistakes
that he hadn't committed in a month. As he was kneeling in his
usual spot, he heard the sound of approaching feet. An
unfamiliar voice called out "Mother!". His stepmother rose and
walked past him. "Jennifer, darling. How have you been?" "Fine,
mother. I see your doing well." "Quite, There is someone I want
you to meet. Eddie, rise and turn around".
Eddie rose and took a good look at Jennifer. She had wavy
shoulder-length honey blond hair. Her eyebrows were dark,
indicating that she was a bottle blond. She was wearing
sunglasses. Her mouth had the same wonderful downturn as her
mother's. She was well made up in a "vamp" style. Eddie glanced
past her dark full lips and noticed her large breasts. They had
the same dominant protrusion as her mother's and appeared to be
a little larger. Eddie continued his scan and stopped on her
hands. She wore several rings and bracelets. Eddie let out a
soft gasp as he focused on her nails. Her dark nails were close
to four inches long and had a substantial curve to them.
Jennifer brought her right hand up to her head and removed her
sunglasses. Eddie felt a tremble in his groin as her nails
clicked against her sunglasses. Jennifer reached out her hand
and placed a nail under his chin. With a gleam in her eye she
said "follow me". As if refusal was impossible, she turned and
started back towards the house. Eddie followed, never taking his
eyes off of Jennifer's nails. As he watched her nails sway back
and forth, flashing in the sunlight, Eddie knew that he was in
love.
-
The Summer It Began - (Part 1)
THE SUMMER IT BEGAN (by Presprit)
I.
I have vivid memories of how I first became captivated by long nails. I was
nine, we were spending the summer by the lake and there was a girl my age also
spending the summer, and rather much left to her own charge by her great-aunt
who was nearly blind. One day taking pity on the fact this little girl was
always alone, my mum bade me go over to play with her. Although I hadn't yet
begun to fancy girls, I had previously noticed that she was quite pretty, with
light brown hair that flowed in soft waves almost to her waist. She was seated
at a table in the garden tracing leaves on paper, and as I approached her I
remember seeing her hands on the table and something about them was different
from those of other girls I'd seen.
I now know that if you can discern that someone has long nails from a fair
distance, they are probably very long, but at that time I didn't, so I was
startled when I came up close and saw that her fingernails extended perhaps a
centimeter beyond the ends of her fingers (please realise that these were the
tiny, slender hands of a little girl), perfectly-shaped and translucent, with
equally long nail-beds. I remember feeling a hot shivver of alarm come over me,
but being just an innocent lad I immediately rationalised that her great-aunt,
due to poor eye-sight, simply wasn't able to trim them for her. I introduced
myself, she said her name was Katherine, and implored me to sit beside her
whilst she finished tracing. Being completely uninterested in such girlish
pursuits and as well somewhat bereft of manners, I promptly turned about without
uttering a word, and started off.
"Do sit!" she said sternly as I started walking away, and she reached for me.
Suddenly I felt as if I was being sliced by hot knives. Her fingernails raked
the length of my arm smartly and then dug deeply into my wrist as she pulled me
back. I gaped in horror, tears welling up in my eyes, at five long, bleeding red
furrows on my arm and five bleeding half-moon indentations about my wrist. She
glanced at them momentarily, then with huge sparkling emerald-green eyes
surrounded by impossibly-long lashes, she gazed straight into my tear-filled
eyes and chirped "I scratched you!!" The words stand out after all these years,
because there wasn't a hint of remorse in her tone, in fact it was gleeful, with
an air of satisfaction. Abruptly I realized that her long nails weren't the
result of neglect. Not only was she aware of them, she kept them by design and
had used them on me purposely. She then formed her hands into the shape of
claws and displayed them in front of my face. "As you see, I have extremely long
fingernails" she said proudly, "...and they're wickedly sharp."
"Do sit with me!" she insisted again. Instantly I complied, and sat watching her
long nails in silent awe as she continued tracing leaves. Without taking her
eyes from her task, she began a lengthy and detailed monologue about her nails:
that ever since she'd been a toddler she'd always viciously fought and clawed
anyone who attempted to cut them, until when she was just six her parents had
finally given up trying; that she kept her nails at the maximum length such that
she could still apply them to someone's skin with her full strength without them
bending or cracking; that they grew exceedingly fast so she filed them daily
which also assured they were always exquisitely sharp; that she would scratch
boys when they made her cross, but confessed that most of the time her taking
offence was simply a pretext for putting her claws to use. For a half-hour she
regaled me with vivid descriptions of how, and where on their person, she'd
clawed various boys in her school and neighbourhood. She concluded by saying
she was so happy that she would have me close-by for the summer, since there
were no other little boys at the lake and she'd been simply dying for someone to
scratch ever since summer began. Common-sense would've surely dictated that I
should've found her attitude horrificly chilling, and run away. But I remained,
and believe I was at least as much fascinated by the danger of her as I was
fearful of another mauling.
Almost every afternoon she'd be sitting at that table doing some type of craft
and she would beckon me to join her, which I did. She must have realised that I
was now as entranced by her long nails as, clearly, she was herself, because she
frequently did things like clicking them together or using her thumbnails to
gouge large slivers of wood from the table-top, and I could see her looking for
my reaction. One time she produced a file and began to lightly rasp the edges of
her fingernails, after which she declared them "properly sharpened" and
proceeded to sink the nails of one hand into my upper-arm, whilst swiftly
clawing those of her other hand down the inside of my fore-arm. Katherine stared
intently at my arm, her green eyes widening and her excitement growing as the
long, white streaks turned to angry raised pink welts and finally began to ooze
blood. Obviously my fascination with nails had begun to take hold because I
never once ran crying to my mum. In fact that summer my mum was flabbergasted
by how many times I'd 'fallen into the rose bushes' which was the best fib that
my young mind could think of to explain the proliferation of new scratches that
appeared daily. The last thing I wanted was for her to forbid me from playing
with Katherine, by whom I was utterly and completely bewitched. Fortunately Mum
had too much on her mind to bother challenging my ludicrous explanation, and
accepted it at face-value.
II.
One day toward mid-summer it was particularly warm and I was going about in
short pants and bare feet. Katherine beckoned me to come to her garden table for
some cold cider. I noticed she was wearing shoes and white stockings, and I
said she must be awfully hot and should take them off. She eagerly agreed, and
whilst I took my seat she turned her back to me and removed her foot-wear,
mentioning over her shoulder "I've got a surprise for you." As we sat there
drinking cider I kept begging her to reveal the surprise, but she kept giggling
and saying "not yet". Finally I grew impatient and teased her that I regretted
asking her to take off her shoes and stockings, because her feet smelt. She
turned toward me with the meanest look, and I pulled back just in time to dodge
a vicious swipe of her long fingernails, which I had anticipated--fortunately--
as Katherine always clawed with complete abandon, unconcerned whatsoever about
the location or severity of the wounds she inflicted. She smiled slightly, and I
smiled with relief, believing the worst had passed, but just then I felt a
searing pain on my feet, growing worse by the second, and worse still if I tried
to move them. I looked under the table and her feet were on top of mine with her
toes curled under and blanched. After what seemed like an eternity she uncurled
them and spread out her ten little toes, each with perhaps a half-centimeter of
clear long nails! "Surprise!!" she cried, and squealed "Aren't my toenails
magnificent!!" (I'll never forget her words), as I took stock of the purple,
bleeding crescents on my insteps. "I doubt many girls could do such harm with
their toenails even if they were this long, you know" she informed, swinging her
feet up on-to the bench for me to admire her ten perfect long toenails. "But I
can deal rather a nasty scratching with mine." Her one foot instantly darted
out to where my hand was resting innocently on the bench, and before I could
react, she'd curled her toes and quickly raked her toenails backward along my
knuckles, leaving in their wake little flaps of peeled skin that began to bleed
almost before I felt the painful sting. Katherine giggled "See? They're
terrificly sharp."
Katherine absently cleaned a bit of what I reckoned was my skin from underneath
one long toenail using her long pinkie-fingernail, and then flicked it away with
her long thumbnail. She began coyly "So. Do you still think my feet smell?"
"No, no!" I answered immediately. "I don't believe you" she teased, grasping my
thigh lightly with her fingernails, the sharpness of which could be felt even
with barely any pressure. "Unless you let me put my feet right up to your nose I
shall claw your leg unmercifully with my wicked talons" she said, adopting a
villainous theatrical voice. She grinned devilishly and squeezed her nails into
my thigh a little harder. Recognising that my choice was either humiliation or
mutilation, I acquiesced. Katherine leant back on the bench, raised her legs
and planted her little feet against my face. As she squeezed my nose between her
soles, she spread her toes in front of my eyes and I remember how razor-sharp
and menacing her long toenails looked up-close from the undersides, extending
past her toes with the sunlight illuminating them from behind. Katherine
laughed joyfully, and I laughed too. It was a moment of silliness, two little
companions sharing an innocent bit of childish antics. Just then her aunt
beckoned from the house. Startled, Katherine cried "coming Auntie!" and
reflexively clenched her toes and swung her feet down, carelessly gouging my
nose, lip and chin with her scalpel-sharp toenails. Unapologetic, she simply
gathered her shoes and stockings and started off, swiping a fingernail across my
neck as she passed by, and giggling "Ta ta!" as I yelped. And my presiding
thought at that moment was if I would see her again that day, or would have to
wait all the way until the next!
III.
One rather warm morning Katherine was waiting on my doorstep when I emerged, and
announced that we were going down by the lake for a bit of a swim. Katherine
rarely phrased anything in the form of a question, and even when she did it was
rhetorical, as she never even momentarily entertained the possibility of not
being in-command. As we approached the water Katherine placed her towel neatly-
folded on a rock, stepped out of her shoes, and hung her wrap on a low tree-
branch. She was wearing a rather silly one-piece little-girl's bathing-suit
with little mermaids patterned on it, and I bit my tongue to stifle a laugh
which would've surely earned me some painful scratches. I removed my shoes and
hung my shirt on a branch. Somehow I felt Katherine's eyes upon me and when I
looked up she was regarding me as a cat regards a mouse. "Is there something odd
about me?" I asked innocently. "Only that you're rather a ghostly white" she
teased. "Last one in's a..." I shouted as we ran for the shore and splashed in-
to the cool lake water. The mermaids on Katherine's bathing-suit were quite
appropriate, I discovered, as she could swim with the speed and grace of a fish.
Whilst she swam circles round me and splashed me, my prevailing thought was
staying clear of her lethal finger- and toenails as she kicked and paddled.
Being bare-skinned except for bathing trunks, I felt especially vulnerable.
Then she dove under and disappeared for a few moments, popped up unexpectedly
right in front of me and spat a mouthful of water in my face, followed by
squeals of childish laughter. Caught up in the silliness I then did something
regrettably stupid: I placed both hands on top of her head and playfully shoved
her under the water. Instantly I felt as if my skin was being flayed from my
bones. Burning pain coursed down my chest, stomach, sides and legs. Then I
felt like spikes were being driven through my arms, and Katherine emerged from
under the surface with her thumbnails hooked into the undersides of my arms just
above the wrists. Whipping me with her long wet hair as she shook it off her
face she exclaimed breathlessly "That was great fun!". Without doubt she was
referring to the mauling she'd just given me. As we came out of the water
Katherine contemplated me as a sculptress might look at her just-finished work
of art. Although I was stinging all over, I hadn't looked down at myself until
then. What I saw was my torso and legs were covered with angry red tracks, many
of them bleeding in places. "I've exceptionally long sharp nails you know" she
offered, as though it was news. Pointing to the marks scoring my legs she added
enthusiastically "I'm quite certain I dealt you some of those scratches with my
toenails!" Useless after-thought though it was, I apologised for having pushed
her under-water. "No bother" she assured me, "I'd have scratched you just the
same if you hadn't." She smiled sweetly and, drying her long, thick hair with
her towel, said earnestly "you were much too ghostly white". And she threw back
her head and laughed heartily at her wit.
We walked back home carrying our shoes and wet towels, and I, like a little
gentleman, walked her to her gate. She turned to me and gripped my shoulders
lightly with her extraordinarily sharp fingernails such that I dared not pull
away (I don't recall that she ever grasped me with her fingers and not her
nails) and she moved foward until her toes rested on top of mine and as she
flexed them to maintain her balance I could feel her sharp toenails pressing
into my skin a bit uncomfortably. I thought she was preparing to scratch me
again, but instead she brought her face to within a few centimeters of mine,
lowered her green eyes shyly, and said softly "I had a grand time today". Still
stinging from her last clawing, I said in what I hoped was a convincing tone, "I
too". Gripping me a little harder with her nails she leaned forward and turned
her face toward my cheek. I trembled as any nine year-old boy might in
anticipation of his first innocent kiss from a girl. In a whisper, she started
"Guess what...", but instead of soft lips on my cheek there was a sharp, wincing
pain. "...I also bite!" she finished out-loud, giggling piercingly in my ear,
and she skipped merrily up to her door and disappeared inside. Fortunately she
didn't bite hard--or more likely, simply hadn't been able to get much of my
cheek in-between her teeth--because she didn't break the skin and all I had was
a red spot. I knew I could easily convince my mum the scratches on my body had
come from brambles down by the lake, but I was grateful I didn't need to concoct
an explanation for teeth-marks on my face!
IV.
At supper one day my mum said "Katherine's great-aunt would like her to have a
little change of scenery and asked that tomorrow you take Katherine in-to town
for the day." I was less than thrilled, being that I considered summer a time
for doing nothing, and whilst I was entranced with spending every waking moment
with Katherine at the lake, I envisioned a boring day in town of girlish
endeavours such as dress-shopping. Next morning Katherine's great-aunt was
waiting as I came up the walk, opened her pocketbook and handed me train tickets
and some money. As Katherine came outside, her great-aunt admonished me to see
to it her only great-niece didn't get lost or hurt, and to that end, to be
certain to hold Katherine's hand at all times. I nodded dutifully and as I
inter-twined my fingers with Katherine's, she pressed her long, sharp
fingernails in-to the back of my hand just hard enough that I was reminded it
wasn't she who might need protecting.
There were lots of empty seats on the train and we sat across from one another
against the window. Katherine said she'd always come and gone from the lake
after dark so she was anxious to see the sights in day-light. Trains tend to
pass through the ugliest parts of towns, but in-between quite often there are
some nice pastoral scenes. Katherine pressed her hands to the glass to block
her own reflection from spoiling her view, and I recall how magical her long
nails looked with the window-light shining through them. At one point a gray-
haired man in uniform passed through the car asking for tickets, I handed him
mine and he punched it, then Katherine offered hers. The old man's eyes widened
as he took Katherine's ticket. "Good heavens, those fingernails simply won't
do!" he gasped. "Your mum should be ashamed to let such a young girl go about
with such atrociously long nails! You poor thing, you simply must ask her to cut
them straight-away!" Katherine's sparkling emerald eyes narrowed and her lips
started to pout, which I'd seen her do frequently just before lashing out
viciously with her claws, and I had visions of us being thrown off the train in
the middle of no-where--or worse, arrested--for attacking a train official. But
Katherine fibbed with a straight face "Yes, sir. I shall ask my mum to cut them
this very day. Thank you, sir". The moment the official had passed out of ear-
shot Katherine burst into musical laughter, and, making sure he was far enough
up the car and his back was to her, leant into the aisle and stuck out her
tongue and made clawing motions in the air. I relaxed for the remainder of the
train-ride, thinking perhaps we'd make it through the day without a terrible
incident after all.
When we arrived in town Katherine decided we were hungry, and we bought some
food to take to the park. I proceeded to make myself a sandwich. By contrast
Katherine took up the cheese and ham and pinched off pieces with her nails and
ate hungrily. Then with her nails she gently grasped my hand that held my
sandwich, leant in and took a bite, and we finished it together. "Imagine
anyone saying that I should cut off my lovely long fingernails" she said,
referring back to the train conductor, displaying her hands elegantly before our
eyes. It began to drizzle and then the rain came a bit harder, so we ran to the
cinema we'd passed en-route from the station and I bought us both entry. "Oh, I
would love a taffied apple" Katherine pleaded, "Be a dear..." I bought one for
each of us and we went inside the darkened cinema. The picture had already
begun and Katherine led us to seats near the rear. I seem to recall that it was
a war picture, but we didn't care as long as we were in-doors and dry.
Katherine devoured her taffied apple quickly, and as she'd done with my
sandwich, with her nails gently grasped my hand which was holding the stick and
proceeded to share my taffied apple. There was a small boy, perhaps seven or
eight, and his older brother, perhaps eleven or twelve, sitting in front of us,
and we must've been making a bit of noise eating our apples because the younger
lad turned his head to look. Seeing us sharing an apple, with Katherine
grasping my hand, he teased "Look at the love-birds!". The older brother stared
at the screen and said "Shh!". Katherine whispered "shh!" also, and she slipped
off her shoes and placed her bare feet against the back of his chair. She leant
side-ways to get a better view of the screen and her head happened to be against
my shoulder at that point, and the little boy turned completely round to kneel
on his seat facing us, said "Look, they're about to kiss!". "I'm becoming quite
cross!" Katherine warned in a stern whisper. The little boy ignored her and
stuck out his tongue. Instantly Katherine slid both feet up to where his hands
were gripping the chair-back and she raked his fingers with her absurdly sharp
toenails. He let out a shriek and began to wail, at which point the older lad
saw his young brother's bleeding hands, and turned round in his seat cursing.
Without changing position, Katherine lashed out her foot like a striking cobra,
and her toenails clawed his cheek. Reeling from the shock and pain, he reached
out his arm attempting to get hold of Katherine. The opposite happened of
course, she got hold of his outstretched arm, sinking her long fingernails in-to
the back of his hand and digging her long thumbnail in-to the tender skin on the
underside of his wrist. Unable to move that arm or to reach her with his free
hand, Katherine began to claw the nails of her other hand methodically up and
down his arm repeatedly, all the while chastising him calmly, despite the loud
cries and screams of both boys, for his improper language and his misbehaviour.
At this point the cinema usher came running. He was a gaunt lad of about
sixteen with black-rimmed spectacles and a prominent Adam's apple, shouting "See
here!". But clearly possessed of more bravado than bravery, spying Katherine's
nails and seeing what they'd wrought, he opted instead to grab my arm and pull
me from my seat. We were both escorted to the proprietor's cubicle and told to
sit. I was certain we'd be hauled away to prison for the rest of our lives.
Presently the door opened and in walked a lovely young woman, perhaps in her
very late teens, who it turned out was the proprietor's daughter given charge
during the day-time. "What on earth has happened?" she asked urgently, though I
detected a bit of a smirk that said she already had been apprised. Without
hesitation or a shred of contrition in her tone, Katherine answered in her
typically precocious manner. She began in a serious tone "There were two most
ill-mannered boys who persisted in molesting us," and then she continued
cheerfully "so I scratched them!" The young proprietress then said "Indeed,
you scratched them rather badly didn't you". To which Katherine answered "Oh
yes, most savagely" and displaying her outstretched fingers for the young woman,
continued "I have frightfully long sharp nails and I leave the most terrible
scratches". I wanted to say "oh, do shut up!" but of course thought better of
it. But just then the oddest thing happened. The young woman, who said her
name was Margaret and asked for ours, said to Katherine "My, those are the
longest nails I've ever seen on someone your age!" and she reached to take
Katherine's hands in her own, whereupon I noticed that Margaret's nails were at
least two centimeters long and although un-varnished, shiny as glass. "I didn't
grow mine long until I was fourteen but I wished I had sooner," Margaret related
to Katherine. "Before that, boys used to pull my hair and do all manner of mean
things. At first I grew them just for style, but then one time, quite without
thinking, I used them on a rude bloke at school. Sliced his face good I did.
After that no-one crossed me." Katherine asked her hopefully "Are your toenails
long as well? "My toenails? Why, no" Margaret answered, a bit taken aback at
the question. "Mine are rather" said Katherine, eagerly slipping out of her
shoes and displaying her surprisingly long toenails for Margaret. "They're
wickedly sharp and I can scratch quite painfully with them." Katherine then
asked to see Margaret's feet, and being by this time quite charmed by
Katherine's precociousness, the young woman promptly removed her shoes and
Katherine squatted down in front of Margaret's silk-stockinged feet. Katherine
muttered something about not being able to get a good look, and before the young
woman could utter a gasp, Katherine had, perhaps accidentally, shredded
Margaret's silk stockings with her sharp fingernails. "You've the most lovely
feet and toes," Katherine complimented her immediately, and Margaret being
obviously fascinated--and perhaps even a bit frightened--by Katherine at this
point, said a demure "Oh thank you" without a word about the ruined stockings.
Katherine pronounced Margaret's toenails perfect for growing long and offered to
teach Margaret how to use them to scratch. "The secret is to curl your toes just
so" she instructed, lifting her foot and curling her toes so that her toenails
pointed toward the sole of her foot. She cajoled Margaret to imitate her, which
she tried and laughed that she was unable to do. "You must practise by curling
your toes round a pencil" said Katherine. Margaret promised she would start
growing her toenails and would practise every day with a pencil, but I don't
know if she was serious or just humouring Katherine, whose eccentricity she
clearly found beguiling. She did say that her boy-friend despised her long
fingernails and she found most amusing the thought of annoying him further by
growing long toenails, so perhaps she may have. She told Katherine not to worry
about the boys she'd scratched, that they wouldn't tattle and risk having their
mates know they'd been savaged by a little girl. I couldn't believe the
exchange that had taken place between those two, and even after all these years
it seems incredible and surreal. But it was obvious Katherine had found--or
bewitched--an ally and we weren't going to be handed-over to the authorities, so
I was quite grateful and left it at that. Before we departed, Katherine asked
Margaret how she got her nails so shiny without varnish, and Margaret explained
that she buffed them daily. She embraced Katherine and gave her a kiss on the
fore-head and escorted us out. Katherine insisted that I buy her a nail-buffer
before we left town, and luckily we found a shop on the way to the station that
stocked them. As we rode back on the train, Katherine remarked what a lovely
day it had been! I recall praying, as she rested her tired head on my shoulder
and stroked my arm absently with her fingernails, that no little boy would
happen by again and taunt her!
V.
One day Katherine's great-aunt had to visit an ailing friend who lived in
another town. She felt that a sick-bed was no place to bring a child, and asked
my mum if Katherine could stay with us. My mum told her there was no way to
arrange it in our house, or at least that was her story, already convinced that
one child was more responsbility than she cared to assume. But since the
cottages were only meters apart and one needed barely shout to be heard from one
to the other, my mum volunteered that it would be fine if I stayed with
Katherine next-door. The old woman wasn't thrilled with the idea of leaving two
young children alone in her house, but reluctantly agreed I could use her
bedroom whilst she was away. Mum eagerly packed up my things and was quite
happy to have me out of her way.
Katherine's great-aunt had left plenty of food for us, and that first evening
Katherine set the small table with a linen cloth and napkins, and arranged the
silver in just the proper order. She sat across from me and before we could eat
she bowed her head and said Grace. Katherine had put on a frilly pink dress and
patent-leather slippers and her thick, wavy hair was held back by a comb set
with some kind of artificial gem-stones. She looked like a tiny fairy-tale
princess, and her table-manners were impeccably polite. That itself was
surprising, in that she usually preferred her fingernails to silver, and
frequently ate from my plate--or hand--without asking. Clearly she was playing
the role of grown-up hostess as she imagined it to be. I recall how elegant her
hands looked with those long, shiny clear fingernails, as she held her glass
delicately, her long-nailed pinkie extended in upper-class affectation. But
being just a lad I hadn't the foggiest that I'd been cast as the charming
prince, and I failed to deliver my lines as she'd probably scripted them in her
mind, which should've included at least a few well-placed compliments concerning
the table, the meal, and most importantly, her appearance. Toward the end of
the meal her expression changed from cheerful to dismayed, I heard a shuffle
beneath the table and the claps of her dress-slippers dropping to the wood
floor. In the next instant my left knee was sandwiched between her bare feet,
and before I could even breathe she raked her long razor-sharp toenails down
both sides of my leg to the ankle, where she dug them in and gouged repeatedly.
As I gasped and cried-out in pain, she burst into tears, ran to her bed-room and
slammed the door. Prior to that moment I'd never seen her cry. Katherine had
always remained eerily composed and dispassionate even when she was clawing
someone in anger. I pressed my ear to her door and could hear her sobbing. I
rapped on the door and she told me to go away. She said she hated me and never
wanted to see me ever again. Those words hurt me more deeply than she had, or
could have, with her nails. I started to cry "Please don't say that!" and
"Please don't hate me!"and "Please don't send me away!" I sank to the floor,
sobbing. After a few moments the door opened and Katherine stood over me,
sniffling and wiping huge tears from her cheeks with the backs of her hands. My
gaze travelled from her bare feet with their ten perfect long toenails from
whose rending my leg now stung and throbbed, to her enormous green eyes which
were reddened and wet with her tears. "I forgive you." she said softly, without
saying what she forgave me for, nor did I ask. I rose to my feet, wiping my
eyes. "It's time for cake and milk" she announced, her pleasant-hostess voice
not yet quite returned after her crying bout.
Katherine brought a plate with a rather large piece of cake, and a large glass
of cold milk. She placed them before me at the table, pulled her chair round to
my right, and propped herself on her elbows. "Aren't you having any?" I asked,
taking a piece of cake on my fork. Silently she placed her hand on mine and
guided the fork to her mouth. She then took a noisy sip of milk, licked the
milk-moustache from her lip, and placed the glass by me. Sharing my food was
something Katherine had done before. At the time it puzzled me but in
retrospect perhaps it was her way of expressing affection. We ate for a while
without speaking, and finally she asked in an almost-inaudible whisper "Do you
think I'm pretty?" I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as I stammered and
choked "Yes...that is, well, uh, I guess so, I mean to say..." Katherine clasped
her hand over my mouth, unavoidably dimpling her long nails slightly in-to my
cheeks. "'Yes' will do," she sighed woefully, but her eyes were beaming with
satisfaction. After we finished, Katherine said brightly "I shall be in my room
when you have finished washing the plates." Clearly, her domesticity had its
limits.
That evening we sat on her cot and listened to recordings, until finally my
mum shouted from the next house to turn out the lights and go to sleep. "I'm
not sleepy" Katherine said to me quietly. Then she informed "Your mum can't see
the lights on the other side of the house" and led me to her great-aunt's room,
which was to be mine whilst I was guesting. "I'll return by-and-by" she
promised. I slipped in-to my striped pajamas and was standing at the basin
brushing my teeth when Katherine walked in. She was wearing white pajamas with
pink bunnies patterned on them, and she was holding a small zippered leather
case. "What are you doing?" she enquired. "Brushing my teeth before bed of
course" I replied, spitting out a mouthful of water. Katherine looked at my
toothbrush that was lying near the basin, and before I could blink she had it in
her hand and was furiously brushing her teeth. I sighed, realising that she'd
already eaten from my fork and drunk from my glass, and that I couldn't stop
Katherine from doing anything she wanted. "There" she said, wiping her mouth
and baring her teeth in the mirror "nice and clean and sharp". And as she
passed me she gave me a play-bite on my shoulder, which was nonetheless hard
enough to hurt. "Well, good night" I said as I climbed on-to her great-aunt's
big, cushiony feather-bed. "Good night?" Katherine repeated incredulously,
climbing up next to me, "I told you I wasn't sleepy." She un-zipped the leather
case to reveal an extensive assortment of manicure implements with mother-of-
pearl handles. "You may sleep if you wish," she said coldly, her green eyes
narrowing, then they brightened and her tone changed to cheerful "or you may
watch me whilst I care for my magnificent long nails!" My sense of well-being
instructed me which option to choose! She sat along-side me with her feet
against the pillow next to my face, and began very lightly to file the edges of
each of her toenails, one-by-one. Her stated object was not to decrease their
length, but simply to maintain them at the same length, therefore she would only
file as much as experience had taught her they had grown since the previous
evening. I seriously doubt, despite her insistence to the contrary, that they'd
grown much in twenty-four hours, and she barely touched them with her file.
Nonetheless she spent a good five minutes per toenail in meticulous
concentration. Then she used another instrument to gently scrape underneath
each toenail, and finally she used her nail-buffer to bring each of them to a
brilliant shine. All the while she carried on a monologue, describing what she
was doing in intricate detail. Finally, she grasped each foot with her hands,
and brought them one at a time up to her face and gently nuzzled her cheek
against her toenails, uttering a contented "Mmmmmmm". Then she turned toward
me, placed her soft feet against either side of my face, and lightly stroked her
toenails along my cheeks. "Feel and hear how wickedly sharp they are!" she
pleaded with satisfaction. Indeed the sound together with the sensation was
electrifying.
By that time I was having great difficulty to hold my eye-lids open, but
Katherine wasn't the slighest bit tired. She shifted her position so she was
lying on her stomach facing me, propped up on her elbows. Her legs were bent at
the knees, the soles of her feet facing me, with her long toenails peeking past
the ends of her pink toes which she curled and un-curled. She began the same
slow, methodical ritual filing, this time of her long fingernails. That was
followed again by the scraping underneath, followed by a thorough buffing to a
lustrous shine. She held her hands in front of her with her fingers spread, and
said admiringly "My fingernails are so very long and lovely". Her palms faced
me, and I remember thinking how beautiful her nails looked from my viewpoint as
well. Then she placed her palms on my chest, fingers still spread, curved them
slightly, and dragged her nails slowly and firmly down to my waist. I remember
the crackling sound her just-filed long fingernails made against my cotton
pajama-shirt, and their sharpness, even through the fabric. I could still feel
stinging moments later, which prompted me to look under my pajama shirt, and
there were indeed long, red welts on my skin. "Are there scratches?" Katherine
asked excitedly, reaching for my shirt-buttons "Do let me see!". I
instinctively clasped my shirt-front, but in a heartbeat I was nursing new
scratches on the backs of both of my hands, whilst Katherine proceeded to un-
button my pajama-shirt. "Goodness!" she exclaimed with glee, lightly tracing
her nails along the burning red lines on my chest and stomach "my nails are
indeed frightfully sharp!". With that she reached over and turned out the lamp,
placed the covers over me, and whispered "Good night." It must've been two
o'clock by then, and I was already nearly asleep and too thoroughly exhausted to
muster any protest when unexpectedly she slipped under the covers and laid her
head on the adjacent pillow. The last thing I recall before drifting off was
the sharp scratch of her toenails against my ankles, and her quiet giggle.
VII.
The next morning I awoke with a sudden start, lying face-down, with Katherine
straddling atop me bouncing and giggling "Wake up sleepy-head!". I was still
half-asleep and not responding quickly enough to her rousing, so she reached
back with one hand and grabbed a hand-ful of my pajama-clad bum and I screamed
as the stabbing pain from her long sharp fingernails shot up to my brain. "Rise
and shine!" she chirped, and scrambled off of me. As I started for the loo she
was sitting on the edge of the bed and she raked the backs of my calves with her
toenails, playfully, but albeit it stung a bit. "I'm hungry" she yelled whilst I
was in the loo, and when I emerged she led me by my pajama-shirt all the way
across the house to the table. Katherine placed bread, a glass of milk and a
bowl of hard-cooked eggs in front of me and took her seat along-side. She
clawed the shell from an egg with her nails and handed it to me, but as I
brought it to my mouth, she grasped my hand and pinched off half of the egg for
herself with her long thumbnail. Whilst we ate, her sharp toenails would
occasionally brush my feet and I would look at her fearfully and brace myself to
be clawed, but each time she merely smiled impishly. As we finished eating,
Katherine informed me of the plans she had for our day. "Hurry and dress!" she
said impatiently, stabbing the tips of her dagger-sharp fingernails into my back
as she prodded me on, which I knew would leave welts even through my pajamas.
Alone in the bedroom, as I dressed I looked at myself in the large, oval mirror
that stood by the night-table. I was covered with the marks Katherine had left
with her nails since we'd met. Some were nearly faded, some were as fresh as
moments ago. And I hurriedly finished dressing so that I might rejoin her as
quickly as I could .
VIII.
After nearly a week, Katherine's late-night nail-tending ritual coupled with her
early awakening was beginning to un-nerve me, although she seemed to get by well
on much less sleep than I. She also said she was afraid to stay in her own room
alone whilst her great-aunt was away, and so insisted on sleeping on the big
feather bed too. She tossed and turned in her sleep, awakening me repeatedly
with kicks and scrapes from her sharp toenails. So, although I adored
spending time with Katherine, the day her great-aunt returned I was relieved to
be going back to my own house to sleep. Somewhere around midnight however, I
awoke suddenly from a sharp poke, and when I opened my eyes, Katherine had
climbed in through the opened window and was sitting on the edge of my cot. "I
know you must miss me terribly." she whispered "so I decided to pay you a
visit." "Shhhhh!" I whispered "you'll awaken my mum and she hates being
awakened!". "Oh dear, all-right" Katherine whispered solemnly, slipping under
the covers. "What do you think you're doing?" I whispered, shocked. "Shh. Go to
sleep...and do move over" she whispered, pushing me toward the edge of the cot,
poking me with her fingernails and toenails. "Are you daft?" I whispered "this
bed is barely big enough for one. And besides, your great-aunt will be at wit's
end if she awakens to find you missing". "She sleeps like a bear and shant
awaken" Katherine whispered, "and even if she did she's afraid to walk the house
in the dark because she can't see very well". "Go home!" I whispered sternly.
Katherine pouted and instantly ten fingernails and ten toenails clawed my flesh.
I yelped, whereupon Katherine put her hand over my mouth and whispered "Shhhh!
You mustn't awaken your mum." It was too late, I heard my mum stir across the
hall-way. The door to my room opened and she leant in. "What's the matter with
you? Are you ill?" she asked, sleepy and annoyed. As soon as the door-knob had
rattled, Katherine had slid off the cot on-to the floor to hide, but she had my
ankle in her talons and as I attempted to come up with some kind of fib, she
began to firmly stroke the sole of my foot with the long fingernails of her
other hand. It tickled and hurt at the same time, and I couldn't speak without
gasping. Providence must've been smiling--perhaps at Katherine, probably not at
me--because my mum just said "Oh for goodness'sake, have some sips of water
until you've stopped coughing, and go back to sleep!" And with those comforting
words she went back to her room and didn't awaken until noon, as was her custom.
Katherine, however, continued to scratch-tickle my foot for several minutes, and
when she finally stopped I was breathless and spent of all energy. As she
climbed back on-to the cot she whispered "I've discovered that you're
ticklish...and you've discovered that my long nails can tickle as wickedly as
they scratch". She then began to tickle my ribs and under my arms. The more I
wriggled, the harder she tickled with her sharp nails, until the tickling became
scratching. Finally she turned her back to me and whispered "I'm sleepy now",
and I turned my back to her as well and breathed a sigh of relief. She tickled
the soles of my feet with her toenails once, then drifted off to sleep. She
must've left just before dawn, because as the light streamed in through the
window I awoke and she was gone. For a moment when I awoke I wondered if I'd
been dreaming, but the sting of fresh scratches confirmed that her nocturnal
visit had indeed been real. In fact throughout the remainder of the summer she
made rather a habit of it.
IX.
My mum's sister, my Aunt Phoebe, sent her son to the lake to stay with us for a
week. Cousin Petey was eleven and somewhat of a bully. Mum arranged a make-
shift bed of blankets on the floor in my room, and Petey immediately laid claim
to my cot. I was of course expected to entertain Petey. Katherine detested
Petey immediately, partly because she was accustomed to having me to herself,
partly because his presence in my room at night meant the temporary suspension
of her nocturnal visits, and partly because the first thing out of Petey's mouth
after being introduced was "Blimey, when was the last time you cut your horrible
fingernails?". "I never, ever cut them" she replied, seething. "And they're not
horrible. But they are horribly sharp and I shall deal you a nasty scratch if
you don't apologise immediately and say that you adore my nails!" she demanded.
"You had best do as she says" I warned him. But he shoved me aside and laughed
"I'm not afraid of a little girl," and grabbed Katherine by her hair. Katherine
instantly sank five long nails into his shoulder, then clawed them swiftly down
his arm to his hand, which she had simultaneously impailed with her other five
long nails. Petey screamed in pain and looked at the bleeding marks on his arm
and cried "You little animal, what've you done?!" "I scratched you!" said
Katherine happily, and she laughed. That enraged Cousin Petey and he charged at
her swinging his fists, however the only contact he made was to gore himself
repeatedly on her sharp nails as she deflected his blows, giggling and laughing
as she did. That made Petey the bully even wilder with rage, and after
sustaining numerous deep claw-marks whilst attempting, he finally succeeded in
grabbing Katherine by both arms and held them apart so she couldn't get her
fingernails on him. Now however, both his hands were occupied and he stopped
momentarily to ponder his options. It was in that moment that Katherine kicked
Petey soundly between his legs. His eyes bulged and his red face turned pallid
and he dropped to his knees, and as he fell backward she sat down on top of his
stomach. His instinct for self-preservation somehow gave him the strength and
presence of mind to maintain his grip on Katherine's arms despite the
undoubtedly excruciating pain in his loins. Katherine, ever smiling, said
sweetly "Petey, if you say that you adore my nails and let go of me, I shant
punish you further". Whether he was too angry to think straight, or simply
didn't trust her word, he gripped her arms even more tightly. "You're hurting
me!" she pouted. At that moment I stepped forward, intending to pry Petey's
hands from her, but Katherine shot me a look and I retreated. She looked back
at Petey and she sighed "tsk, tsk". Slipping her shoes off she brought her legs
forward between his raised arms, and an expression of abject terror came over
Petey as he caught sight of Katherine's long toenails, hovering menacingly over
his face. He wriggled and tossed his head from side to side but she caught it
between her feet, curled her toes and raked his cheeks. She repeated her terms
of surrender again, but it took two more rakes of her sharp toenails down his
face before he sobbed "All-right! I adore your nails! I adore your nails!" and
cautiously released her arms from his grip. Katherine stood up and looked down
at Petey, smiling. "I'm simply famished" she said cheerfully "Let's all have a
spot of cheese and fruit in the garden." Petey looked at her incredulously, a
combination of terror and confusion on his face which was streaked with the
tracks from her sharp toenails. One moment she'd been mauling him like a
leopardess, and the next moment she was inviting him to dine. But that was how
she was and I was accustomed to it, and seeing no look of shock or surprise on
my face terrified Petey further. "I'm going to tell your mum!" he shouted.
"You're going to tell my mum you tripped and fell into the brambles" I said
coldly "or I'll ring up the blokes back home and tell them that you were torn to
shreds by a little girl". When Mum asked about his scratches, Petey expertly
fibbed that it was the brambles. Margaret the cinema proprietress had been most
insightful, and I was glad I'd remembered. Petey also slept on the blankets on
the floor of my room throughout his stay and never uttered a word about
Katherine climbing in through the window at midnight. It occurred to me
sometime later, thinking back to what she'd done to the boy in the cinema and to
Cousin Petey, that Katherine never scratched my face. At least, not
intentionally. At the time I wasn't positive it hadn't simply been a lucky
coincidence, so I didn't ask her about it, fearing she might feel compelled to
rectify her oversight.
X.
The end of summer came much too quickly. Katherine climbed in through my window
and saw the packed valise on the floor, and I whispered that we were leaving in
the morning. Neither of us could sleep and we stayed up whispering-on about
typical childhood nonsense until the first hint of dawn, when Katherine said she
had to get back to her house. She made me vow, upon the threat of a savage
scratching but with tears welling up in her eyes, that I would not leave for the
station without saying good-bye. I helped my mum cover the furniture with
sheets and put the valises out front, and whilst she waited for the gentleman
whom she had engaged to take us to the station, I called out to Katherine and
she came bounding out of her door. We stood before each other in awkward
silence for a few moments, but finally I began, hopefully "Will you be..." "Of
course, next summer,"she finished my thought. "You won't..." I continued
slowly, intending to add 'forget me?' but she answered quickly "Of course not,
I'll never cut my nails!" Just then my mum beckoned that the lorry had arrived
and that we must be going. Heavy tears filled Katherine's green eyes, about to
overflow her long lashes. I felt on the verge of tears as well. Katherine
thrust her cheek toward me and tapped it with a long-nailed fore-finger. I felt
myself blush and I gave her cheek a quick kiss. I felt the wet and tasted the
saltiness of her tears that were now flowing freely. She threw her arms round
me and kissed my tear-streaked cheek. Suddenly she grabbed my arms and dug her
long thumbnails in as hard as she could whilst doing likewise to my ankles with
the sharp nails of her great-toes. "Promise that you shant forget me!" she
sobbed softly. "I promise" I sobbed. And as we drove off, I waved at
Katherine. She blew me a kiss and waved back, and I remember how distinctly I
could see her long nails from a distance. I began to ache from separation,
dulled only slightly by the throb of the half-moon cuts she'd just left with her
nails. It would be a long, lonely time until I returned to the lake the
following summer.
-
The Summer It Began - (Part 2)
The Summer It Began (3) … by Presprit
Ive been asked if I would recount further anecdotes from my childhood encounter with
little Katherine, and I am most happy to oblige, as even now the memories are most vivid
of the little girl who awakened and shaped my obsession for long nails. Here then is the
first such anecdote….
**********************************
My mum brought us to the lake each summer because she adored basking in the sun.
Whenever it rained, she became instantly disenchanted with the rustic surroundings, and
spirited off to town. Bringing me along wouldve been to her an untenable imposition,
and thankfully she had no ill conscience whatsoever about leaving me behind. No sooner
had I heard the front door shut than I leapt from my cot, threw open the sash, and shouted
for Katherine across the way. After several moments, she appeared at her window, with
her light-brown hair cascading in gentle waves over her little shoulders and arms.
Through the steady curtain of raindrops she was like an angelic apparition. Or at least it
seemed so to me, a young lad completely smitten. "My mums gone to town for the day.
Might you come by?" I shouted. "Shhhh!" she scolded, lifting her forefinger to her lips.
Even from across the way and through the rain, one could still clearly discern that her
fingernails had noticeable length. Katherine disappeared back in to her room and closed
the sash. A minute or two later, there came a knock on the front door. There she stood
on the veranda, shaking the rain from her little pink brolly. "I was fearful you werent
coming," I said. "Well, if Auntie had heard you shout that your mum wasnt about, she
mightve insisted I invite you to our cottage instead. Then we wouldnt have had any
privacy," Katherine said with a wink. She was ever the schemer.
I felt the familiar euphoria I always did in her presence. I thought her ephemerally
beautiful. Her waist-long, light-brown hair flowed in voluminous waves, shiny and soft
and hinting of lilac-scented shampoo. She had eyes like sparkling emeralds, surrounded
by impossibly-long lashes. Her skin was porcelain, her lips a perfect Cupids bow of
ruby-pink. But my---indeed, everyones---attention was quickly drawn to her nails which
were strikingly long for her age. And unlike most young children whose digits tend to be
short and plump with rather flat nails and short nail-beds, Katherines fingers and toes
were slender and feminine, with long nail-beds. With her nails grown-out as she did to
equal the length of the beds, her hands and feet appeared like an adult womans in
miniature. Her nails formed near-perfect half-circles when viewed straight-on (as were
the cuts they made when she dug them in!) which also made them quite strong. And she
tended to her twenty nails meticulously, keeping them always keen as a barbers razor.
Even an accidental, glancing graze by a fingernail or toenail would neatly carve the top
layer of ones skin. And when she scratched purposefully---which was most often the
case---her nails instantly drew blood. In summation, Katherine appeared as a soft little
house-kitten, but behind the illusion lurked an untamed lynx with a savage capacity to
maul. Looking backward, I suppose that was the essence of my fascination with her.
I eagerly invited Katherine inside. "What would you like to do?" I asked politely,
although I knew full well she always presumed to dictate our activities. "Id quite like to
scratch you!" she chirped with a smile, and in the same instant grasped both my arms
soundly with her nails and dragged them from my elbows to my wrists. I cried out, and
gaped at the long furrows which quickly saturated with blood. "My long fingernails are
exceedingly sharp," she stated proudly. And that is how the day began, similarly as they
all did. In fact, I cant recall a single day when even fifteen minutes elapsed before
Katherine had dealt me the first scratch.
Katherine stepped in through the doorway and looked down at our feet. Mine were in
stockings. Hers were bare, and a bit soilt from having splashed through rain-puddles
along the path. "Alright then, off with your stockings," she ordered. "Why?" I asked,
although I suspected her motive. "Because I say so of course," she replied. Narrowing
her green eyes she added, "If you dont comply I shall become quite cross and deal you a
most painful scratch." Quickly I removed my stockings. "Thats eversomuch better,"
she said, smiling. Katherine put her arms round me, and she rested her head against my
shoulder. She placed her toes atop my feet. For an instant I relished their heavenly soft
and warm feel, but as I suspected, in the next instant she tightened her embrace and bore
her sharp toenails into my feet with all her weight. I cried out through closed teeth and
could feel my eyes well-up with tears from the stabbing pain. "I have rather sharp
toenails as well," she whispered in my ear as though it were a dark secret, however she
obviously relished hearing herself say it. She curled and flexed her toes, gouging my
ankles and feet. "Katherine! Stop!" I cried. "Oh…I suppose I might," she sighed, and
lowered her heels slowly to the ground. "After all we do have all day for me to scratch
you," she mused pleasantly as my pain began to abate. But before blythely skipping off
down the hallway, she raked her toenails back over my toes quickly. I could hear her
giggles trailing off whilst I continued to gape at the angry purple cuts on my feet and
ankles, and the long red scratch lines along my toes.
Limping, I joined Katherine in my room. She was seated upon my cot and she patted the
spot next to her. Dutifully, I sat beside her . We sat stiffly in awkward silence for a few
moments. Then rather unexpectedly she leant aside and kissed me quickly on the cheek.
We both blushed and turned our faces apart. Haltingly, shyly, we lifted our heads and
turned until we were looking at each other. Katherines unearthly-green eyes sparkled
with a mixture of curiosity and mischief. Next it was as though we were being drawn
together by unseen laces. We closed our eyes. Her lips on mine were heavenly-soft and
oh-so-warm. I felt as though I was floating upon a lake of warm sugar-syrup. And just
when I thought it could get no better, I felt her put her hand up the back of my head and
comb her long fingernails through my hair. I felt her other hand on the side of my neck.
There was no mistaking the sharpness of her nails, but she didnt scratch hard. The
gentle caress of her nails along with her kiss was simply the most wondrous thing Id
ever felt. In reality I doubt the entirety of it spanned more than fifteen seconds, but
whenever I re-live it in my mind, it always plays in slow-motion as though it had lasted
hours. No event in my life has ever eclipsed that one. It remains my most-treasured
memory, un-diminished by time…or by the fact that when we opened our eyes and
Katherine, herself shocked at what had transpired, turned red as a tomato and promptly
scratched me the entire length of my shirt-front quite forcibly with her long razor-sharp
fingernails. Even through the cloth I could feel the lasting sting and knew shed drawn
blood.
Oblivious to my pain, Katherine lay on her side on my cot, extending her legs, spreading
her toes and sighing, "Arent my long toenails grand!" Still reeling from both the
pleasure of her kiss and the stunning pain of her scratch, I managed a nod. Katherine
placed one soft, little foot atop my hand. Although I knew what was about to happen, it
was as though she had me enchanted and I couldnt move a muscle. Indeed, she curled
her toes and raked the back of my hand with her toenails. The pain was sudden, and
blood quickly seeped to the surface of the raw skin her scalpel-sharp toenails had
exposed. "All my nails are wickedly sharp!" she said proudly. Then Katherine gazed at
me with the dreamiest look in her sparkling green eyes. She batted her impossibly-long
lashes. I suspected she wanted me to kiss her again, but the uncertainty posed by my
innocence and inexperience left me unable to act decisively. So smitten was I, even
contemplating a remote possibility of her spurning me was paralysing. Encouraged by
her hint of a smile, very cautiously I leant ever-so-slightly toward her. When she didnt
back away, I leant closer. Still she didnt move away, and I came closer still. Eventually
my lips were almost upon hers, and Katherine still had not pulled away. I shut my eyes
and bridged the last breadth between us. The instant our lips met, my heart soared…and
my brain crackled with lightning-like pain from Katherines sharp fingernails biting into
my arms. I reared my head and was about to utter an apology for having dared to attempt
a kiss when, with her nails still buried in me, she pulled me in-to a full-on snog.
Unhurriedly she extracted her long nails from my arms one nail after another, and then
with the same tenderness as before, combed them through my hair and stroked the back
of my neck. This time when it was done, Katherine sighed sweetly and lay her head in
the crook of my neck. She said quietly, "We mustnt ever let anybody catch us
snogging." "Alright," I said happily, the realisation dawning that she expected it to
happen again with some frequency. She turned and lay with her back against me and
extended her arms out front with her fingers spread apart, gazing at her long fingernails.
Their buffed shine caught little specular highlights from the window behind that lent
them added dimension. "My nails are quite lovely arent they," she said. "Yes quite," I
agreed. Katherine unfastened a button on my shirt and slipped her hand inside, whilst
lifting her smiling face up to mine. With a besotted look on my face I asked hopefully,
"Snog?" She shook her head. "Scratch," she whispered, and raked her long, sharp
fingernails swiftly across my chest. It felt as though Id been slashed at once with five
red-hot knives. I clutched myself and gasped as the sharp pain momentarily
overwhelmed me. "Let me see," Katherine said excitedly, reaching to take my hands
away from my shirt-front.
I knew from experience that if I didnt let her, she would simply rake my hands with her
sharp nails and have her way, so I dropped my arms to my sides. I could see she was
disappointed that I hadnt afforded her the opportunity to scratch my hands. But her
green eyes brightened when she had a look at the long, bleeding horizontal tracks across
my chest, cris-crossing the vertical scratches shed made through my shirt earlier.
Staring with awe at the mayhem her nails had wrought she began tracing the scratches
lightly with her fingers. Silken-soft as they were, nonetheless it enervated the fresh wounds
to sting all the more, and I drew a deep breath and clenched my teeth, endeavouring not
dissuade her from what appeared a rare act of tenderness on her part. Back and forth
slowly, Katherine traced the scratches, but as she did she began increasing pressure little
by little. Not lifting her eyes, she asked, "Is it hurting?" I lied with as much nonchalance
as I could muster, and said, "No." Katherine stopped her fingers tracing, and she looked
up with a burning in her emerald-green eyes. "Well then…," she began, and in the same
instant pressed her long, sharp fingernails in and dragged them slowly back along the
previous scratches, "…did that hurt?" she asked with a grin as I fell on my back with an
anguished scream. Katherine suddenly got very quiet. She saw me gaping at the maze
of angry scratches, and she asked, "Do you hate me?" I wanted to tell her yes, just to
spite her, but then I looked into her huge green eyes and blurted, "I love you! I love you
more than anyone or anything in the world!" Katherine looked at me, blinking her long
lashes, with no interpretable sign of emotion. Perhaps buoyed by adrenaline, I threw
caution to the wind and asked, "What about you?" Looking down at her long fingernails,
she replied with earnest sincerity, "I dont relish scratching your face quite as I do other
boys." For Katherine it was tantamount to a confession of love. I smiled at her. She
knew Id understood, and she smiled back at me. Then she lay beside me and rested her
head on my chest, and although covered in raw scratches, I felt only euphoria and a deep
sense of contentment.
"Im rather famished," Katherine said, sitting up suddenly. "Weve got cheese," I
offered. "Smashing," she replied, sliding off the cot. As I started for the doorway,
Katherine took my hand, interlacing her fingers with mine. We exchanged warm smiles.
I could feel her long nails indenting the back of my hand. When we reached the kitchen
and Katherine released my hand, I was surprised by the four thin half-circular cuts her
sharp fingernails had left, as I hadnt felt any pain. Katherine immediately sat at the
table, waiting. I procured two plates, a loaf of bread, and a wheel of hard cheddar, whilst
Katherine studied her long fingernails. The cheese was quite hard, and I bore down
mightily with both hands and all my weight upon a large knife, managing finally to cut
off a small slice. Katherine tapped her nails impatiently on the table-top. "Tsk. Let me
have at it," she said. "Alright, do," I laughed, confident that a tiny girl couldnt possibly
out-muscle me, and haughtily slid the cheese and knife to her. Katherine grasped the
large cheese in the crook of her arm, and after somewhat theatrically brushing the knife
aside, used her long, sharp fingernails to easily peel four long curls of cheddar, and then
sprinkled them on her plate. "Fancy some?" she asked. "Yes please," I responded,
awestruck. Watching Katherine claw those long, thin curls of cheese with her sharp nails
is to this day one of the most exciting things Ive ever witnessed. The entire time we ate I
kept replaying it in my mind whilst staring at the deep furrows her fingernails had left in
the wheel of hard cheddar. When shed finished her cheese, Katherine reached at the
fruit bowl and captured an apple with her fingernails, as an owl uses its talons to snare its
prey. She began to claw into it and eat the pieces off the tips of her long nails. "Apple?"
she asked sweetly. "Yes please," I replied, awestruck and transfixed. Katherine clawed
the apple and upended her palm to me with chunks of apple under her long nails. I
remember trembling as I held her little hand and gingerly plucked a piece of apple from
under one of her nails. "Just eat it, as I do, silly!" she giggled, bringing another apple-
filled long nail to my mouth, "But do mind yourself. My nails are deathly sharp you
know." No apple has ever tasted quite so sweet as that one did, accompanied by the
indescribable smoothness of her long nails on my lips and tongue. Afterward I
washed and dried the plates and stored them in the cupboard. Katherine sat with her back
to me, and I could hear the sound of her picking at her nails and smacking her lips.
Several times I turned round to watch her unnoticed. She was so lovely, with her long
light-brown hair in waves down the back of the chair past the seat. Peering under her
chair I could see the pink wrinkled soles of her little feet, and the underneath of her long
toenails peeking out from her little curled toes. I adored her so very much. "My hands
are all sticky," she complained, wakening me from my reverie. "Here, Ive a damp cloth
for you," I volunteered, bending down behind her. Without turning round she swept her
hand behind to take the cloth, and quite by accident whisked her nails back-handed across
my mouth and chin. It felt as though Id been struck by lightning, and I cried out and
clasped my hand to my face. Katherine turned round. "Did I scratch you?" she asked.
Still holding my hand over my mouth I nodded, but said a muffled, "Its alright." "Let
me see," she said. I could tell she was trying to sound concerned and sincere, yet there
was an undeniable hint of eagerness in her voice. And when I took my hand away and
she saw the marks shed done across my chin and upper lip, for a brief instant there was a
look of delight in her eyes. Then she stood, and tenderly dabbed the bleeding scratches
with the damp towel. "My nails are terribly sharp," she said sounding vaguely
apologetic, yet with an inconcealable hint of pride. Then gazing at them with pure
adoration she vowed resolutely, "But I wont ever cut them off, not ever, not for the rest
of my life. Id rather die." Feeling my lips and chin throbbing, nonetheless I nodded in
solidarity. Truly I would rather have died than Katherine cut her nails. She put her arms
round my neck and kissed my scratched chin. And then my scratched upper lip. She
batted her impossibly-long lashes, and slowly closed her eyes whilst tilting her head and
bringing her lips to mine. She combed her long fingernails through my hair and stroked
them on the back of my neck. It was heaven on earth.
-
The Summer It Began - (Part 3)
The Summer It Began (3) … by Presprit
Ive been asked if I would recount further anecdotes from my childhood encounter with
little Katherine, and I am most happy to oblige, as even now the memories are most vivid
of the little girl who awakened and shaped my obsession for long nails. Here then is the
first such anecdote….
**********************************
My mum brought us to the lake each summer because she adored basking in the sun.
Whenever it rained, she became instantly disenchanted with the rustic surroundings, and
spirited off to town. Bringing me along wouldve been to her an untenable imposition,
and thankfully she had no ill conscience whatsoever about leaving me behind. No sooner
had I heard the front door shut than I leapt from my cot, threw open the sash, and shouted
for Katherine across the way. After several moments, she appeared at her window, with
her light-brown hair cascading in gentle waves over her little shoulders and arms.
Through the steady curtain of raindrops she was like an angelic apparition. Or at least it
seemed so to me, a young lad completely smitten. "My mums gone to town for the day.
Might you come by?" I shouted. "Shhhh!" she scolded, lifting her forefinger to her lips.
Even from across the way and through the rain, one could still clearly discern that her
fingernails had noticeable length. Katherine disappeared back in to her room and closed
the sash. A minute or two later, there came a knock on the front door. There she stood
on the veranda, shaking the rain from her little pink brolly. "I was fearful you werent
coming," I said. "Well, if Auntie had heard you shout that your mum wasnt about, she
mightve insisted I invite you to our cottage instead. Then we wouldnt have had any
privacy," Katherine said with a wink. She was ever the schemer.
I felt the familiar euphoria I always did in her presence. I thought her ephemerally
beautiful. Her waist-long, light-brown hair flowed in voluminous waves, shiny and soft
and hinting of lilac-scented shampoo. She had eyes like sparkling emeralds, surrounded
by impossibly-long lashes. Her skin was porcelain, her lips a perfect Cupids bow of
ruby-pink. But my---indeed, everyones---attention was quickly drawn to her nails which
were strikingly long for her age. And unlike most young children whose digits tend to be
short and plump with rather flat nails and short nail-beds, Katherines fingers and toes
were slender and feminine, with long nail-beds. With her nails grown-out as she did to
equal the length of the beds, her hands and feet appeared like an adult womans in
miniature. Her nails formed near-perfect half-circles when viewed straight-on (as were
the cuts they made when she dug them in!) which also made them quite strong. And she
tended to her twenty nails meticulously, keeping them always keen as a barbers razor.
Even an accidental, glancing graze by a fingernail or toenail would neatly carve the top
layer of ones skin. And when she scratched purposefully---which was most often the
case---her nails instantly drew blood. In summation, Katherine appeared as a soft little
house-kitten, but behind the illusion lurked an untamed lynx with a savage capacity to
maul. Looking backward, I suppose that was the essence of my fascination with her.
I eagerly invited Katherine inside. "What would you like to do?" I asked politely,
although I knew full well she always presumed to dictate our activities. "Id quite like to
scratch you!" she chirped with a smile, and in the same instant grasped both my arms
soundly with her nails and dragged them from my elbows to my wrists. I cried out, and
gaped at the long furrows which quickly saturated with blood. "My long fingernails are
exceedingly sharp," she stated proudly. And that is how the day began, similarly as they
all did. In fact, I cant recall a single day when even fifteen minutes elapsed before
Katherine had dealt me the first scratch.
Katherine stepped in through the doorway and looked down at our feet. Mine were in
stockings. Hers were bare, and a bit soilt from having splashed through rain-puddles
along the path. "Alright then, off with your stockings," she ordered. "Why?" I asked,
although I suspected her motive. "Because I say so of course," she replied. Narrowing
her green eyes she added, "If you dont comply I shall become quite cross and deal you a
most painful scratch." Quickly I removed my stockings. "Thats eversomuch better,"
she said, smiling. Katherine put her arms round me, and she rested her head against my
shoulder. She placed her toes atop my feet. For an instant I relished their heavenly soft
and warm feel, but as I suspected, in the next instant she tightened her embrace and bore
her sharp toenails into my feet with all her weight. I cried out through closed teeth and
could feel my eyes well-up with tears from the stabbing pain. "I have rather sharp
toenails as well," she whispered in my ear as though it were a dark secret, however she
obviously relished hearing herself say it. She curled and flexed her toes, gouging my
ankles and feet. "Katherine! Stop!" I cried. "Oh…I suppose I might," she sighed, and
lowered her heels slowly to the ground. "After all we do have all day for me to scratch
you," she mused pleasantly as my pain began to abate. But before blythely skipping off
down the hallway, she raked her toenails back over my toes quickly. I could hear her
giggles trailing off whilst I continued to gape at the angry purple cuts on my feet and
ankles, and the long red scratch lines along my toes.
Limping, I joined Katherine in my room. She was seated upon my cot and she patted the
spot next to her. Dutifully, I sat beside her . We sat stiffly in awkward silence for a few
moments. Then rather unexpectedly she leant aside and kissed me quickly on the cheek.
We both blushed and turned our faces apart. Haltingly, shyly, we lifted our heads and
turned until we were looking at each other. Katherines unearthly-green eyes sparkled
with a mixture of curiosity and mischief. Next it was as though we were being drawn
together by unseen laces. We closed our eyes. Her lips on mine were heavenly-soft and
oh-so-warm. I felt as though I was floating upon a lake of warm sugar-syrup. And just
when I thought it could get no better, I felt her put her hand up the back of my head and
comb her long fingernails through my hair. I felt her other hand on the side of my neck.
There was no mistaking the sharpness of her nails, but she didnt scratch hard. The
gentle caress of her nails along with her kiss was simply the most wondrous thing Id
ever felt. In reality I doubt the entirety of it spanned more than fifteen seconds, but
whenever I re-live it in my mind, it always plays in slow-motion as though it had lasted
hours. No event in my life has ever eclipsed that one. It remains my most-treasured
memory, un-diminished by time…or by the fact that when we opened our eyes and
Katherine, herself shocked at what had transpired, turned red as a tomato and promptly
scratched me the entire length of my shirt-front quite forcibly with her long razor-sharp
fingernails. Even through the cloth I could feel the lasting sting and knew shed drawn
blood.
Oblivious to my pain, Katherine lay on her side on my cot, extending her legs, spreading
her toes and sighing, "Arent my long toenails grand!" Still reeling from both the
pleasure of her kiss and the stunning pain of her scratch, I managed a nod. Katherine
placed one soft, little foot atop my hand. Although I knew what was about to happen, it
was as though she had me enchanted and I couldnt move a muscle. Indeed, she curled
her toes and raked the back of my hand with her toenails. The pain was sudden, and
blood quickly seeped to the surface of the raw skin her scalpel-sharp toenails had
exposed. "All my nails are wickedly sharp!" she said proudly. Then Katherine gazed at
me with the dreamiest look in her sparkling green eyes. She batted her impossibly-long
lashes. I suspected she wanted me to kiss her again, but the uncertainty posed by my
innocence and inexperience left me unable to act decisively. So smitten was I, even
contemplating a remote possibility of her spurning me was paralysing. Encouraged by
her hint of a smile, very cautiously I leant ever-so-slightly toward her. When she didnt
back away, I leant closer. Still she didnt move away, and I came closer still. Eventually
my lips were almost upon hers, and Katherine still had not pulled away. I shut my eyes
and bridged the last breadth between us. The instant our lips met, my heart soared…and
my brain crackled with lightning-like pain from Katherines sharp fingernails biting into
my arms. I reared my head and was about to utter an apology for having dared to attempt
a kiss when, with her nails still buried in me, she pulled me in-to a full-on snog.
Unhurriedly she extracted her long nails from my arms one nail after another, and then
with the same tenderness as before, combed them through my hair and stroked the back
of my neck. This time when it was done, Katherine sighed sweetly and lay her head in
the crook of my neck. She said quietly, "We mustnt ever let anybody catch us
snogging." "Alright," I said happily, the realisation dawning that she expected it to
happen again with some frequency. She turned and lay with her back against me and
extended her arms out front with her fingers spread apart, gazing at her long fingernails.
Their buffed shine caught little specular highlights from the window behind that lent
them added dimension. "My nails are quite lovely arent they," she said. "Yes quite," I
agreed. Katherine unfastened a button on my shirt and slipped her hand inside, whilst
lifting her smiling face up to mine. With a besotted look on my face I asked hopefully,
"Snog?" She shook her head. "Scratch," she whispered, and raked her long, sharp
fingernails swiftly across my chest. It felt as though Id been slashed at once with five
red-hot knives. I clutched myself and gasped as the sharp pain momentarily
overwhelmed me. "Let me see," Katherine said excitedly, reaching to take my hands
away from my shirt-front.
I knew from experience that if I didnt let her, she would simply rake my hands with her
sharp nails and have her way, so I dropped my arms to my sides. I could see she was
disappointed that I hadnt afforded her the opportunity to scratch my hands. But her
green eyes brightened when she had a look at the long, bleeding horizontal tracks across
my chest, cris-crossing the vertical scratches shed made through my shirt earlier.
Staring with awe at the mayhem her nails had wrought she began tracing the scratches
lightly with her fingers. Silken-soft as they were, nonetheless it enervated the fresh wounds
to sting all the more, and I drew a deep breath and clenched my teeth, endeavouring not
dissuade her from what appeared a rare act of tenderness on her part. Back and forth
slowly, Katherine traced the scratches, but as she did she began increasing pressure little
by little. Not lifting her eyes, she asked, "Is it hurting?" I lied with as much nonchalance
as I could muster, and said, "No." Katherine stopped her fingers tracing, and she looked
up with a burning in her emerald-green eyes. "Well then…," she began, and in the same
instant pressed her long, sharp fingernails in and dragged them slowly back along the
previous scratches, "…did that hurt?" she asked with a grin as I fell on my back with an
anguished scream. Katherine suddenly got very quiet. She saw me gaping at the maze
of angry scratches, and she asked, "Do you hate me?" I wanted to tell her yes, just to
spite her, but then I looked into her huge green eyes and blurted, "I love you! I love you
more than anyone or anything in the world!" Katherine looked at me, blinking her long
lashes, with no interpretable sign of emotion. Perhaps buoyed by adrenaline, I threw
caution to the wind and asked, "What about you?" Looking down at her long fingernails,
she replied with earnest sincerity, "I dont relish scratching your face quite as I do other
boys." For Katherine it was tantamount to a confession of love. I smiled at her. She
knew Id understood, and she smiled back at me. Then she lay beside me and rested her
head on my chest, and although covered in raw scratches, I felt only euphoria and a deep
sense of contentment.
"Im rather famished," Katherine said, sitting up suddenly. "Weve got cheese," I
offered. "Smashing," she replied, sliding off the cot. As I started for the doorway,
Katherine took my hand, interlacing her fingers with mine. We exchanged warm smiles.
I could feel her long nails indenting the back of my hand. When we reached the kitchen
and Katherine released my hand, I was surprised by the four thin half-circular cuts her
sharp fingernails had left, as I hadnt felt any pain. Katherine immediately sat at the
table, waiting. I procured two plates, a loaf of bread, and a wheel of hard cheddar, whilst
Katherine studied her long fingernails. The cheese was quite hard, and I bore down
mightily with both hands and all my weight upon a large knife, managing finally to cut
off a small slice. Katherine tapped her nails impatiently on the table-top. "Tsk. Let me
have at it," she said. "Alright, do," I laughed, confident that a tiny girl couldnt possibly
out-muscle me, and haughtily slid the cheese and knife to her. Katherine grasped the
large cheese in the crook of her arm, and after somewhat theatrically brushing the knife
aside, used her long, sharp fingernails to easily peel four long curls of cheddar, and then
sprinkled them on her plate. "Fancy some?" she asked. "Yes please," I responded,
awestruck. Watching Katherine claw those long, thin curls of cheese with her sharp nails
is to this day one of the most exciting things Ive ever witnessed. The entire time we ate I
kept replaying it in my mind whilst staring at the deep furrows her fingernails had left in
the wheel of hard cheddar. When shed finished her cheese, Katherine reached at the
fruit bowl and captured an apple with her fingernails, as an owl uses its talons to snare its
prey. She began to claw into it and eat the pieces off the tips of her long nails. "Apple?"
she asked sweetly. "Yes please," I replied, awestruck and transfixed. Katherine clawed
the apple and upended her palm to me with chunks of apple under her long nails. I
remember trembling as I held her little hand and gingerly plucked a piece of apple from
under one of her nails. "Just eat it, as I do, silly!" she giggled, bringing another apple-
filled long nail to my mouth, "But do mind yourself. My nails are deathly sharp you
know." No apple has ever tasted quite so sweet as that one did, accompanied by the
indescribable smoothness of her long nails on my lips and tongue. Afterward I
washed and dried the plates and stored them in the cupboard. Katherine sat with her back
to me, and I could hear the sound of her picking at her nails and smacking her lips.
Several times I turned round to watch her unnoticed. She was so lovely, with her long
light-brown hair in waves down the back of the chair past the seat. Peering under her
chair I could see the pink wrinkled soles of her little feet, and the underneath of her long
toenails peeking out from her little curled toes. I adored her so very much. "My hands
are all sticky," she complained, wakening me from my reverie. "Here, Ive a damp cloth
for you," I volunteered, bending down behind her. Without turning round she swept her
hand behind to take the cloth, and quite by accident whisked her nails back-handed across
my mouth and chin. It felt as though Id been struck by lightning, and I cried out and
clasped my hand to my face. Katherine turned round. "Did I scratch you?" she asked.
Still holding my hand over my mouth I nodded, but said a muffled, "Its alright." "Let
me see," she said. I could tell she was trying to sound concerned and sincere, yet there
was an undeniable hint of eagerness in her voice. And when I took my hand away and
she saw the marks shed done across my chin and upper lip, for a brief instant there was a
look of delight in her eyes. Then she stood, and tenderly dabbed the bleeding scratches
with the damp towel. "My nails are terribly sharp," she said sounding vaguely
apologetic, yet with an inconcealable hint of pride. Then gazing at them with pure
adoration she vowed resolutely, "But I wont ever cut them off, not ever, not for the rest
of my life. Id rather die." Feeling my lips and chin throbbing, nonetheless I nodded in
solidarity. Truly I would rather have died than Katherine cut her nails. She put her arms
round my neck and kissed my scratched chin. And then my scratched upper lip. She
batted her impossibly-long lashes, and slowly closed her eyes whilst tilting her head and
bringing her lips to mine. She combed her long fingernails through my hair and stroked
them on the back of my neck. It was heaven on earth.
-
TRAVELS Part 1 OUTBOUND FLIGHT
TRAVELS Part 1 OUTBOUND FLIGHT
I was informed at the time I accepted a new position, that I would be required to travel
the globe at the behest of my new employer. My first journey would take me to
Bangkok, but first I needed to make a one-day stopover in New York. By the time Id
flown trans-Atlantic, quickly transacted my affairs amidst the frenetic atmosphere of New
York, and then flown completely across the States, I was already suffering from jet-lag
and exhaustion, and I still had to fly to Bangkok with a two-hour layover in Tokyo.
The plane was arranged with two seats against either side of the fuselage and a centre
section of five or six seats across. I had a window seat, and as passengers began to file
in-to the plane I noticed a petite young woman in tight black jeans and boots with very
tall heels file past me and take the middle-aisle seat two rows ahead. As she came past
me I noticed her hands grasping her hand-carry valise, and my already-exhausted body
began to literally quivver. Her fingernails were varnished bright glossy red, slightly
downward-curved, and I estimated conservatively that they were at least three
centimeters long, including her thumbnails. I watched as she very carefully worked the
catch on the over-head bin with the side of her finger so as not to use her nail, and as she
placed her bag in-side at the same time as her seat-mate, a middle-aged woman, she
guarded her hand from contact. Clearly the young woman was protective of her
magnificent nails. I silently cursed that I had a window seat and would not be able to
catch glimpses of-I named her "Nail Girl"-and her incredibly-long talons during the
flight. Meanwhile a gray-haired gentleman sat beside me and we exchanged momentary
pleasantries, and then even before the plane began to move, I fell fast asleep.
We mustve been air-borne nearly an hour when I was awakened by conversation and
movement next to me. The middle-aged woman who had been seated next to Nail Girl
was standing in the aisle next to my seat-mate. As it turned out, she was his wife, and
was joyfully informing him to pick up his belongings because shed convinced her seat-
mate to switch seats with him so they could sit together. In an instant, Nail Girl threw
her leather sac on the floor by my feet and settled in-to the next seat. She had stylishly
short dark brown hair, and a small, full mouth with red lipstick matching her nail varnish.
She looked at me with huge, violet-blue eyes surrounded by black eye-liner that, along
with her tight black jeans and black sweater, and of course her three-centimeter curved
red claws, gave her a decidedly feline aura. She smiled at me politely, revealing perfect,
straight white teeth, but turned quickly forward and said nothing. She placed the head-
phones over her ears, and took a book from her bag and began to read. Not wanting her
to know I was staring at her, I leant against the fuselage with my pillow behind me and
feigned sleep, but I kept my eyes opened just a crack and had the most glorious view of
her long, curved red fingernails as she held her book. I also draped my blanket loosely-
folded in my lap, to hide my arousal.
The dinner meal was served, and Nail Girl kept her head-phones on whilst she ate. It
seemed that she was not interested in conversation, which was all-right with me as I was
already hypnotised simply watching her nails. She was very careful with them, and her
hand-movements were fluid and graceful. My mind was filled with fantasy images of
myself and Nail Girl, and I could almost feel the sensation of those talons against my
skin. After dinner, she reclined her seat, but before she leant back, she removed her tall-
heeled boots and calf-height silk stockings. Her perfectly-shaped toenails bore the same
bright-red nail varnish as her long, curved fingernails. She took a small tube from her
bag, turned her back to the aisle and pulled her feet up, placing her soft, wrinkled soles
against the centre arm-rest facing me, and proceded to sensuously apply lavender-scented
cream onto her feet. The sight of her slender fingers with long, curved red talons slowly
massaging her soles and moving forward and back between her slender pink toes took my
breath away. She turned away from me, wrapped her blanket over herself and draped one
taloned hand over her hip and grasped her shoulder with the other, so I had a perfect view
of her beautiful feet and all ten fingernails and I didnt need to disguise the fact that I
was looking at them whilst she slept. Deep in sleep, she moved her legs back and both
of her feet were against my thigh. I so wanted to caress her lovely red-varnished toes,
but of course I dared not.
After while the stewardess came through the aisle asking if we wanted something to
drink, and Nail Girl stirred and sat up with her legs crossed on the seat and one beautiful
bare foot facing me, slowly wiggling her red-varnished toes. She stretched in a languid,
feline move and pointed a red talon at a row of tiny bottles of whiskey. The stewardess,
who also had long nails but not more than half a centimeter, gushed how incredibly long
Nail Girls nails were. The two then proceded to have a conversation about growing and
caring for long nails, which I over-heard with great interest and arousal, with Nail Girl
displaying her talons for the stewardess inspection. When the stewardess had gone on,
Nail Girl slowly began to peel back the label that was pasted across the top of one of the
hand-ful of whiskey bottles the stewardess had left her with a wink. Nail Girl was
clearly un-happy to put her nail-varnish in peril, and seeing an opportunity to initiate
contact, I said "Permit me?" Nail Girl looked at me, slightly startled, and with a smile
on her incredibly lovely red lips, said, "Say that again." "Beg pardon? I said permit
me," I replied. "Oh, wow!" Nail Girl exclaimed, "You sound just like that secret agent
guy in the movies. You kinda look like him a little too." "Really?" I asked. "Yeah, no
bullshit," she responded. Curious thing, but to me a girl with an American accent who
peppers her speech with obscenities sounds rather sexy. "Hi, Im Lisa," Nail Girl
offered, extending her hand. I took her hand gently and replied, "Bond. James Bond."
Nail Girl, that is, Lisa laughed heartily and as she withdrew her hand her eyes twinkled as
she gazed at me smiling and she absently wound some strands of her hair between her
long-nailed fingers.
Lisa abandoned her previous aloofness and transformed in-to quite the chatty one. In a
matter of minutes I knew her entire lifes story, including how shed begun growing her
fingernails on a whim a year ago just after shed turned seventeen, and became enthralled
with them and intended to keep growing them even longer. "Some guys think theyre
gross," Lisa said, draining the little bottle of whiskey in one swallow. "Im sure you have
plenty of attention from blokes that you neednt be concerned with any who find your
nails…how did you put it?...gross," I offered. "Yeah, fuck them," Lisa exclaimed, and
added, giggling, "well, actually, I wont be fucking them." She thrust another little bottle
of whiskey toward me. "Oh, thank you no, Ive kept some wine from dinner and…" I
began but she interrupted, demanding "Open it for me!" And as I accepted the task she
remembered her manners and added, "Please?" In all, I recall she consummed five or six
little bottles. Lisa told me that she was travelling to meet her father, who had business
affairs in Tokyo, and planned to stay with him for two weeks before returning to the
States. "Daddys like, really rich and important," she announced matter-of-factly, then
added with a giggle, "I think he thinks Im still a virgin." As quickly as shed begun
talking, she re-donned her head-phones and picked up her book and ignored me.
Eventually she extinguished the reading-light and feel asleep. It was dark in the cabin
and everyone near us was fast asleep, although whilst flying I never really sleep well,
dozing in and out. A couple of times Lisa leaned over in her sleep and half-awoke with a
start when she contacted my arm. "Here," I whispered finally, raising the arm-rest and
offering her my shoulder. She whispered, "No, thats okay," but she was drunk and half
asleep and proceded to put her head against me and rested her hand on my arm. Her
touch aroused me immediately, but I closed my eyes and tried to ignore it. Suddenly my
eyes sprung open and I realised that she was gently stroking my arm with her talons. I
looked and saw that her eyes were closed and just as I assumed she was doing it
unconcsiously, she whispered, "Do you mind?" "Er, no," I whispered, trying to make
proper sense of things amidst the haze of my fatigue. Fortunately Lisa took the initiative
entirely in her own…hands, as it were, gently pulling at the hair on my arm and
inevitably lightly scraping my skin with her three-centimeter nails. "I really dig body
hair on a guy," she whispered, the aroma of whisky strongly on her breath. Her eyes
were open now, and she noticed the top two buttons of my shirt were undone and slipped
her hand inside, whispered, "Fucking shit!" as she began running her hand through my
chest-hair, grasping it between her fingers and scraping her nails across my skin. I turned
and lowered my head toward Lisa and as we kissed she slipped her other hand round the
back of my head and began raking her nails gently through my hair and against my scalp.
During a momentary pause she whispered, "God I cant fucking believe Im making out
on a plane with some guy just because Im drunk and he sounds like James Bond and has
a hairy chest." "And here I almost believed it had at least some part to do with my
charm," I whispered, but without a response Lisas lips locked onto mine and she drove
her tongue in-to my mouth. I felt her hand slowly drift down my lap. "Mmmm,
someones horny as hell," she whispered, and she started to rake her long fingernails
gently over the bulge in my trousers. Lisa started to hook her thumbnail in-to my belt but
stopped abruptly. "Undo it, I might break a nail," she commanded in a whisper. "We
cant," I protested, "someone will see and…." "Fuck you, no they wont," Lisa replied in
a whisper, and she pulled my blanket up to my neck, covering her hand and shifting her
body so it blocked anyones view from the aisle, although the cabin was dark and no one
was awake except us. I un-did my belt and Lisa quickly un-zipped me and worked my
shorts down until I sprang free. Instantly she began to fondle me, but as she did she
turned her face to me startled and whispered urgently, "What the hell is wrong with your
dick? Its weird. Are you, like, an alien or something?" "Havent you ever seen a bloke
who isnt circumcised?" I whispered. "No. Oh my God!" Lisa whispered, "Let me see!"
and she bade me hold up the blanket whilst she examined me. Drunk and aroused, Lisa
gasped and began to examine me with both hands, whispering "Oh wow" again and
again. "Does it work the same as a normal dick?" she asked. "Quite," I assured her, and
showed her how to retract the foreskin. "Oh wow," she whispered again, but released it
and added, "I like it better like this, its, like, so cool-looking." She wrapped one hand
round it and began rubbing her thumb in soft circles against the topside of my shaft. I
gasped and began breathing hard, and Lisa looked at me with a drunken grin and
whispered, "Yeah it works the same as a normal dick. It always drives a guy crazy when
I do that." And she continued caressing me with her thumb. But just then, with a
twinkle in her eye she slowly began inserting the long, red pinkie nail of her free hand
into the opening, and as she did, gently stirring it round and round. I clasped my hand
over my mouth to muffle my panting, and Lisa giggled silently and whispered, "Now,
thats something I cant do to a normal dick." As her talon touched bottom I jumped
slightly and Lisa admonished in a whisper, "You have to be really, really still, or else I
might stab you with my long nail!" And she continued gently brushing her thumb in
circles against the topside of my shaft and stirring her other pinkie nail inside my foreskin
while I rapidly ascended toward climax. As she felt me on the brink she removed her nail
and wrapped that hand round my neck and kissed me whilst she wanked me expertly to a
mind-blowing climax, slowing gradually until she felt me soften. She kissed me tenderly
and withdrew her hand from beneath the blanket, wiping it on my shirt and then placing
each of her fingers in-to her mouth one-by-one and licking them to the tips of her three-
centimeter red-varnished talons.
"How soon can you get it up again?" Lisa whispered in-to my ear, adding "Im like,
really horny and kinda need to screw." "It may be a while," I apologised, "I was on the
brink of exhaustion even before you, ah, took care of me." "Shit," she hissed, "If I knew
that I wouldnt have jacked you off." Lisa stretched in that languid, feline way of hers,
and yawned. She grasped her feet and said, "God, my feet are so fucking sore from
walking all day yesterday in those stupid boots." Then she took her tube of lavender-
scented cream from her bag and put her feet against my thigh. "Sore or not, yours are
two of the most lovely feet Ive ever seen," I offered. "Yeah?" she mused, a twinkle in
her eye. "Here," she said, thrusting the tube of cream at me, "Do them for me." And
then as if remembering the childhood admonishment of her mother, she added
perfunctorily, "Please?" Of course I was only too happy to accommodate her wish, and
spent the next half-hour administering as sensual a foot-massage as I knew how. Lisa
seemed to enjoy it herself, but moreso was astute to how much I enjoyed it, and whilst I
was occupied with one of her feet she slipped the other between my legs and found that I
was completely aroused. She withdrew her feet gently from my grasp and with a huge
smile on her face whispered in my ear, "Foot freak!" Lisa began softly kissing down my
neck and back up to my ear where she continued whispering, "Ill go to the lavatory.
Give me like two minutes, and come to the door. As soon as no ones looking, knock
three times." Lisa got up and I watched as the sign above the lavatory turned from green
to red "occupied". No-one was about, and none of the stewardesses were within sight of
the lavatories. I rapped three times lightly on the door and heard it un-latch and I
squeezed in-side and closed and locked the door behind me. Lisa had removed her jeans
and I managed to get my trousers and shorts down about my ankles, and we began to
kiss. There, however, the festivites took a decided turn for the worse. Ive read accounts
of people having sex in aeroplane lavatories but I could only surmise they were either or
both smaller and cleverer than I. At over 2 meters and approximately 100 kilograms I
barely fit in-to one of those lavatories by myself. There was virtually no room for Lisa,
as petite as she was. We could not find any position where one of us wasnt in contact
with the door, which once we would start to have sex, the banging thereof would
undoubtely arouse an audience. To make matters worse, the flight was beset by
unpredictable spasms of turbulence, one of which had the audacity to present itself whilst
we were sequestered in the lavatory. Finally we gave up and I managed to manoeuver
my shorts and trousers up, and Lisa squatted barefoot on the closed lid of the loo whilst I
squeezed out the door. When shed dressed she returned to the seat. "Shit!" Lisa
whispered, "I fucking have a headache and I fucking need a cigarette." At the time, even
international flights originating from the States already prohibited smoking. "Sorry,
love, I wish I could help you," I offered with a shrug. "I fucking need to come!" she
hissed in-to my ear, whilst digging her three-centimeter fingernails sharply in-to my arm.
Suddenly she looked at my hand and pulled it toward her waist whilst un-doing her jeans.
"Do me!" she whispered. "What, no please?" I whispered. "Fuck you!" she hissed, not
amused by my choice of that moment to attempt wit. "Cover us up," I whispered,
handing her the end of a blanket. Lisa turned herself to me and laid one leg up over
mine, giving me access to her, and she took my free hand and placed it in-side her blouse
where I fondled her small but extremely firm breasts. I felt in-side her panties, and they
were rather soaked, and I hoped the blanket would contain her feminine aroma lest it
arouse any sleeping blokes in the immediate surroundings. As I fingered her deeply she
stroked my arm firmly with her long fingernails, which were also quite sharp, and she
clamped a mouth-ful of my shirtsleeve in her teeth and breathed rythmically through her
nostrils to keep from moaning out loud. After much squirming and clawing, I felt Lisa
start to shudder, and suddenly she closed her legs firmly against my fingers, her hand
shot between her legs and grabbed my hand with her three-centimeter talons and held me
still, as she exhaled sharply. She went limp and looked up at me with eyes half-closed
and mustered a little smile. Lisa brought my hand out and wrapped my arm round her,
and laid her head against me whilst her breathing slowed to normal. "Damn, I needed
that so bad," she whispered, and planted a soft kiss on my lips. I fully expected her to fall
asleep, but she scraped her long, red fingernails down my face and across my chest and
then slid her hand to my pants. "Undo your fucking belt," she whispered, "I swear if you
make me break one of my gorgeous fingernails…" I quickly complied and once again
Lisas silken-soft, warm fingers and smooth, hard long nails had me fully aroused and
ascending the ladder of sexual pleasure. I felt her gently pinch and roll my foreskin
between her thumb and finger, occasionally catching it with her nails as well, and I
gasped. Lisa gave me a long, dripping-wet lick with the full of her tongue from my collar
to my cheek and whispered in my ear, "I have to suck that alien dick of yours."
"No," I protested, "someone is bound to come by and see your head bobbing in my lap."
"Trust me," Lisa whispered, and ducked her head underneath the blanket. I couldnt see
what she was doing but I felt her breath, followed by the touch of her lips. The tip of her
tongue traced round my foreskin several times and then she inserted it. As she did so, I
felt her grasp my balls and start to fondle them, the unmistakable touch of her fingernails
driving me insane, and I must have gasped because she lifted the blanket and whispered,
"Sorry I keep sticking you with my nails. I cant help it. Ttheyre like soooooo long."
Still holding my shaft with one hand she slowly engulfed me, gently scraping and
nibbling me with her teeth as she did. "Pull it back, like I showed you," I half-gasped
half-whispered. "No," she replied, "I dig the alien part, thats the part I want to suck."
And she did, applying an amazing amount of suction and working me with her tongue,
although true to her word, her head didnt move. I was half-mad with lust at that point
and thrust my hand under the blanket in an attempt to retract my foreskin, but she sank
her nails in-to my hand and as I reflexively withdrew it quickly, her sharp talons tore
furrows in my skin. Only then did she herself pull back my foreskin and with her lips,
teeth and tongue brought me to a breath-taking climax. When she felt me soften, Lisa
emerged from under the blanket and licked her lips. She took my injured hand and kissed
the bleeding claw-marks. "Those things are dangerous," I whispered. "Bullshit! My
nails make you horny," Lisa retorted with a wink, gently raking her three-centimeter red
talons down my cheek, "youre dying for me to scratch the hell out of you while we
screw." Indeed that was true.
It was somewhere in the middle of the night when we landed in Tokyo, and neither of us
had slept more than a few winks. As we disembarked and filed in-to the terminal, I told
Lisa how wonderful it had been, and how much I regretted we wouldnt be able to
actually have sex. "Oh shit," she replied, "why the fuck did you have to say that? Now
Im horny again." "Sorry," I said sheepishly. "Lets look for someplace to screw," Lisa
said excitedly, grasping my arm firmly with her long, red fingernails, "like a closet or a
bathroom or…." "I have a plane to Bangkok in two hours, and I really dont want to
spend it trying to convince the Tokyo police not to arrest me," I said with regret. "Oh
okay," Lisa sighed, "at least come with me to baggage-claim" Having a little time to kill
I agreed, and she took my hand like a lover. After shed got her valise, I kissed her and
wished her well. There was a Japanese gentleman in a chauffeurs uniform and cap
holding a cardboard sign with "LISA" printed on it, and when she saw him, her eyes lit
up and she grabbed my arm and pulled me running to him. "What are you doing?" I
asked. "I just had a stroke of genius," she replied, "trust me!" Lisa strode up to the
chauffeur and said, "Hi, Im Lisa. Look, you have got to do something for me, okay?"
"Okay!" he replied cheerfully. Lisa began, "I need you to drive me and my friend around
for like a half an hour, and then come back here and drop him off, okay?" "Okay!" he
said again. "Come on," Lisa said to me breathlessly, and we went out-side to the waiting
limousine and climbed in the back. "Remember, drive around for a half hour and then
come right back here, okay?" Lisa reminded the driver as she raised the privacy partition.
"Okay!" the driver chirped. And as the limousine drove off, Lisa shed her clothing and
began clawing mine from my body as I hurriedly attempted to un-dress. "Oh my God,
Ive never been this horny," she gasped. Lisas body was incredibly fit and beautiful, and
I wanted to savour every inch of it but she had no desire for slow love-making and within
moments she had me inside her and was moaning and gasping as she bade me pound her
hard and fast. As we both neared climax, Lisa brought her hands behind my back and
sank her incredibly long, curved red talons in-to my upper back and with her lips to my
ear she hissed, "Ive never really used my nails on a guy as hard as I can but Im going to
scratch you to shreds." Her words pushed me over the edge, and as I released so she
began to climax as well, and she screamed and clawed my back full-force repeatedly until
her orgasm had subsided. We collapsed in each others arms, both of us gasping "Oh
God, that was great!" over and over.
I looked at my watch and asked, "Hadnt we better be turning round?" Lisa lowered the
partition a few centimeters and said to the driver, "Excuse me. I think you should turn
back now, okay?" "Okay!" came his cheerful response, but we kept travelling straight
ahead. I looked at Lisa with a horrified expression and leant toward the front and said,
"Beg pardon mate but do you speak English?" "Okay!" he repeated brightly. Despite my
look of panic and horror, Lisa began to laugh, and she raised the partition. I was
blathering like an idiot about missing my flight, and having nothing but the clothes Id
worn on the plane, and becoming more and more agitated. Lisa put a taloned finger to
my lips. "Shhh," she said softly, pushing me down on the seat and trailing her three-
centimeter red fingernails down me to the waist-band of my shorts. By the time I felt her
nails catch my balls I was already half-way to aroused, and she engulfed me with her red
lips once and had me at full-staff. Straddling me she lowered herself slowly onto my
shaft and as she began to move her hips I saw the light glinting off her red-varnished
talons as she clawed my chest and said in a sultry half-whisper, "Just lie back and enjoy
the ride."
-
Trip to Kansas City
This was going to be another boring and stress filled trip to Kansas City, thought Monica. Just what I needed. My boss walks in, and ten minutes later, I am finding out I won't be spending the weekend taking it easy. You get to Kansas City tonight, they will be waiting to meet with you in the morning and even though it's a Saturday, make sure you dress to thrill we need this account, said Monica's boss Don. At 39 Monica had been with CBI productions for over five years now and she regrets her new promotion, which sends her all over the country trying to sign new and talented rock groups, onto the CBI label. Monica being a former model and standing 5'-10" barefoot had the look of a rocker, yet her cool blue eyes and her blond hair said I am Woman hear me roar, rather than fuck ya suck ya sign the fucking contract!
She was well educated and was really nobodies fool, however the decision to fly all over kissing asses of stupid rockers was now trying her patients. Well she thought, once there I will at least check into a suite, take a nice bath and read before I have to wake, dress like a slut try to sign some stupid fucking rock group nobody has ever even heard of.
Monica rushed home and took the fastest shower of her life, to make sure she caught the plane on time. She did however spend ample time doing herself into a dazzle. She looked brilliant in her black, tight fitting hugger of a dress and the seamed stockings made her look elegant and powerful. The garter made her feel sexy and she was proud as a peacock as she looked in the mirror and admired her still sexy body and rather large 36c breasts. She pointed at herself in the mirror and said, you go girl! She then laughed and slipped into a pair of black, six inch stiletto pumps, she then she sat down and started to do her favorite job. Polishing her long, two inch talons. Ummm lets see now pink? no no no she said. Well, what about black? naw no contrast, Red it is! Monica said as she laughed out loud and started to polish what had to be the sexiest fingernails on the planet. They were her pride and joy and were a part of her that demanded respect from anyone that dare approach her.
Monica arrived at the airport with her travel bag in hand and a huge suitcase. After checking her luggage she made her way down the long corridors of the airport. Once aboard the 727 she sat down and sighed thinking about how nice it would have been to be home, but a job is a job, and she leaned back and waited for the plane to take off. After a few minutes a tall man sat beside her and said, hi my name is Ralph. Pleased to meet you Ralph said a pleased Monica to a very handsome man of about 40. He was well built and had a full head of hair. He was slightly gray, but it somehow added to his already sexy aura. My name is Monica, Monica Dare. What are you doing in KC Ralph? asked the now curious and some what stimulated Monica. Well Monica, I am in the rock and roll business and I put together a bunch of talented musicians we are meeting someone from CBI there to see about signing a contract for a label. Monica could not believe what she was hearing, this man was her contact for the morning meeting. What she thought was going to be a dull trip was now turning into quite an affair. Monica smiled and said, really now, sounds exciting Ralph. Yes we are excited about it, what about you Monica, what are you going to KC for asked Ralph. Well, I'll never tell said the now amused Monica Dare with her sexy smile. Ralph laughed and said Sounds exciting as he lent a sexy smile to his traveling companion, a sexy one at that thought Ralph as he viewed her red claws and said. Mz. Dare, those are very interesting fingers. Monica loved it, She loved comments about her nails and this was a new one for her, interesting was one she had never heard before so she replied to Ralph, well Ralph, my nails are more than interesting wouldn't you say? Yes Monica, they are very sexy to say the least I may go nuts here if you keep them in my sight much longer. Monica smiled and grabbed Ralph's hand making sure her nails were touching his skin and said, be nice Ralph or I will tear you open with them. Ralph smiled and hoped Monica didn't notice the now bulging crotch. Well Ralph, Monica said as she did notice it, I guess you are in for a long trip then because I never hide my nails. They both smiled and the plane roared into the air.
As they leveled out at 35,000 feet, Monica wondered why her boss had boss didn't mentioned that the group was a put together. Then she asked Ralph, so Ralph, tell me about your rock and roll band. Well Monica. Three of the members are from KC and two are from New York City. I travel a lot and find people I think would work well together and make bands. That is great Ralph, replied Monica as she pulled out her purse, removed an orange, and started peeling it. Ralph watched with amazement as she surgically removed the orange peel without ever disturbing the orange inside. He was now turned on beyond belief as she opened the orange, smiled at him and said open wide Ralphie. Monica slipped an orange slice into his mouth and said good little man eat it all up, as she giggled. For the rest of the flight they made small talk and decided that Ralph would join Monica for dinner in KC after they landed.
Once landed Ralph asked Monica where she wanted to eat. Ralph where are you staying. At the Hyatt and you? I am also at the Hyatt. Why don't we just have dinner in my suite instead of going anywhere. I have stayed here before and we can have a great dinner brought to us there, where we can make the most of our time instead of driving through KC at night. Sounds great Monica, I will meet you in your room after I drop off my bags in my room, said the smiling ear to ear Ralph.
Later that night Ralph arrived at Suite 957 and knocked on the door. Ralph was wearing a casual jacket and a pair of nice slacks. Not over dressed not under dressed. When Monica opened the door Ralph's eyes about popped out of his head. Monica was dressed in the a pair of red, patent leather stiletto pumps with six inch heels. She was also wearing a tight fitting, red latex micro mini that was cut so low she might as well not even wore it. Her blond hair was teased and looked wild and sexy. She had rings on almost every finger and had chosen to wear no stockings. Put your eyes back in and come on in Ralphie said the amused Lady about to entertain a very nice and very sexy man she had only known for less than a day.
Welcome to my suite, sweet man, said the now smiling and giggling Monica to her new freind. Well Monica, I never expected this pleasant surprise, said Ralph. What surprise would that be, the smiling Monica asked. Well, uh, you look so great, it is surprising is all, said the nervous man. Monica laughed and let Ralph off the hook by saying sounds like a cats got your tongue, but well, soon I will have your tongue all my own. Ralph giggled nervously and walked in and sat himslef down on the sofa in the suite's parlor area. Dinner will be here in about a half an hour Ralph, I took the liberty of ordering some fine foods for us to enjoy tonight and I am sure you will enjoy it so just don't ask what I ordered it is a surprise. You are so tight right now Ralph I can sense it. Lay on the floor I will give you a massage till dinner gets here, said the now a little more serious Monica. I think that would help me yes thank you Monica, said the now prostrate man. Monica removed Ralphs shirt and started masseging his upper back. She made sure he got a feel of her talons as she massaged his back and neck. Ralph was feeling no tension now, but he was as hard as a rock from the way her nails felt running up and down his back, sending shivers of bliss up his spine.
Soon dinner was at the door to the suite. Monica answered the door and let a young gentleman in rolling a cart. Monica signed the bill and handed the young man a 20 dollar tip. The young man with a suspisious look on his face simply smiled and said, I guess I better put the do not disturb sign on as I leave. Yes please do, answered Monica as she was putting the first of the covered dishes on the table, where she already had candles burning.
Well sit down and get ready fro the meal of your life Ralph said Monica as she lifted the cover off the first of several trays. Ralph looked at the cherry covered dessert and said, what? I thought dessert was last Monica? Monica smiled as she put her candy apple red nails deep in the French dessert and said, why Ralph, it is, it is last. I noticed the way my long nails turned you on during the flight so I took the option to feed you with my nails tonight. Now I don't really think a steak hanging off my nails would be too sexy do you. The now turned on Ralph, smiled and stuttered out, uh uhhh well your right! Why don't you take off all your cloths now sweet man and kneel by my side as I feed you, said the now in control Monica Dare, to her willing slave.
Monica held her dessert covered talons out and Ralph began licking them. Before long he had licked off all of the dessert and was as hard as a rock. Monica stood up and shook her head. Well, I see you need trained in how to worship my nails slave. You did lick them clean but, I am not quite satisfied at the way it was done. You need to let me know they are an idol to you. Monica revealed a pair of chrome cuffs and soon Ralph's hands were cuffed behind his back. Monica also used a telescoping spreader bar she had in her suitcase and she adjusted it to a lenbgth of 4 feet, then spread Ralph's legs apart. Now he found himself kneeling without the use of his hands and his cock exposed to her power. OK lets try it again slave said the now very stern Monica. She dipped her nails once again into the dessert and held them out. As Ralph started to move his face forward Monica stopped him and said, listen slave before you try this. If you fail me again I will use this to help train you. Monica reached down and exposed a long leather riding crop. She held the tip to Ralph's mouth and said kiss it slave. Ralph was now a bit stunned and a bit afraid of Monica. He had never been dominated before and was unsure of how far she would go with the crop. You wouldn't really use that would you Monica? said Ralph. Smack! Monica delivered and blow to Ralphs ass cheek leaving a huge red welt. I did not say you could speak slave! said the now very commanding Mistress Monica. The crop is only one tool of obedience slave. Monica reached her hand and pressed her nails into Ralphs testicles till he screamed in pain. My talons are my favorite method of teaching slave! Worship them well and feel no real pain, fuck up and learn the power I have over you via pain slave. Ralph was still very turned on and decided he would try to please this Lady of pain and pleasure. Yes Mistress I understand said the now less resisting Ralph.
Very well lets try again slave, said the seductive Lady in red. Monica fingered herself till her index and middle nails, were covered in her juices. Lick it clean again slave! she commanded as Ralph gladly tongued her long, wet nails free of her juices. Knock Knock Knock! Who could this be! shouted Monica as she heard three loud knocks at the door to her suite. Monica peered through the peephole and could not see a thing. Whoever it was had their finger blocking the peephole. This pissed Monica off and as she flung the door open, she stood silent at what she seen standing at her door. In front of her stood a very tall, black haired raven in six inch black stiletto pumps. The Raven was wearing a long, black leather gown that was shoulderless and showed off her full sized breasts. Her hair was flowing over her shoulders and her eyes were dark brown as she peered down and said, well, I see Ralph is having fun may I come in? Who are you? asked the now interested Monica. The Raven held her hand up exposing three inch long, black polished talons and rings on every finger. The name is Bloody Nails Miss? Dare, Monica Dare said Monica, please come in. So Miss Nails, how do you know Ralph? and why are you here, asked Monica to the now grinning lady in black leather. I am the lead singer in a rock band called Diva Rules. He supposed to sign us tomorrow to a label. Bloody Nails peered down at Ralph and said, kinky kinky Ralph, I never knew. Ralph was somewhat embarrassed but also very turned on at her presence. So Monica said Bloody Nails, I see you also have long nails. Monica had never seen anyone else that had nails like this. It was a turn on and Monica spurted out. Would you please join us Bloody Nails for some sexy fun. Yes, I will however, I need one thing Monica, Bloody Nails said. What would that be said Monica? Get on your fucking knees slut! right now! Without any hesitation, Bloody Nails reached down and grabbed Monica by her face and forced her to her knees. Monica was surprised, but turned on. She had always wanted to submit to another Female with long talons.
So slave Monica, where are the rest of your toys at, asked the towering Bloody Nails. In the bedroom in my suitcase Mistress. Bloody Nails returned with a pair of handcuffs which she bound Monica's hands behind her back with, after stripping Monica of all her clothing, less her red stilettos. Bloody Nails sat on a sofa and kicked her heels off. Ralph fuck my toes! commanded Bloody nails. Bloody Nails had very long, black polished toe nails, which protruded about a half an inch past the ends of her toes. Monica fuck your cunt on my toes while Ralph fucks my toes with his cock! shouted Mistress Bloody Nails to her very turned on Female slave. In no time, Ralph shoot all over her toes and foot. Ooops! said Mistress Bloody Nails, Monica slut, looks like you have a mess to clean up here slave! Bloody Nails held out her jism covered foot and Monica began licking it clean. Ralph it looks like Monica left a juicy mess all over my other toes, get to work slave now! shouted Bloody Nails! As the slaves licked her toes clean of sexual excretion Bloody Nails used Monica's black rubber dildo on herself and moaned as she came close to reaching climax. After a few minutes Bloody Nails stopped and said, Monica I see you have a strap on, two sided dildo in your suitcase. I bet you planned on using it on Ralph didn't you? Yes Mistress I did said Monica. Well well well, wrong slave, go fetch it with your mouth and drop it at my feet, said Mistress Bloody Nails to her obeying Female slave Monica.
Monica returned with the dildo in her mouth and dropped it at Mistress's feet as ordered to. Very good slave. In no time at all, Bloody Nails was wearing the strap on. Hands and knees slave! Commanded Mistress Bloody Nails to Monica. Ralph! Kneel in front of her. Take his cock in your mouth slave Monica, said the now kneeling behind her slave, Bloody Nails. Bloody Nails reached Down and probed Monica's clit with her long talons. As this took place Monica became very aroused and started to moan. In a short time, the rubber cock made it's way into Monica's now very wet cunt and slowly started pumping away. As Monica sucked Ralph off, Bloody Nails started earning her name sake by clawing away lightly at Monica's back, leaving small trails of blood. It hurt Monica, but at the same time it was what Monica wanted. Soon the bloody nails made their way to Monica's breasts. Bloody Nails was an expert, thought Monica, as she used her nails to bring Monica to ecstasy, as she pumped away at her cunt with the huge rubber cock. The three of them reached climax at the same exact time, it couldn't have been any better thought Monica, till Bloody Nails said, I am warmed up now it is time for my favorite pastime. Having my twat licked by another Woman and torturing a man's cock all the while. Monica dropped and started licking the semi shaved cunt and Ralph stood upright in his spreader bar as Bloody Nails sat in the sofa. Bloody Nails grabbed Ralph's balls and started digging in. It hurt pretty bad, but at the same time Ralph was already hard as a rock again and was enjoying the new found way of enjoying a Ladies nails. Bloody Nails stretched her long leg out and rubbed Monica's very wet cunt with her toes as she continued pressing her nails into Ralphs now bloody member. Once again the three of them reached climax at the same time.
I have had my fun said the smiling Bloody nails to her slaves. I now submit myself to the two of you for your pleasure, whatever that may be. Bloody Nails released the two form their bonds and knelt on the floor before them. It didn't tak eMonic along to resume her role as a Domina and with a strike of her crop to Ralph's back she shouted lick her slave! Lick her clean now! Bloody Nails was laying on her back as Ralph ate her out and Monica found her way on top of Bloody Nails Face enjoying another woman's tongue buried deep inside her. Monica was facing ralp and she used he rnails to do the same to Bloody as had been done to her. She use dher nails all over Bloody nails breasts and the watched as Ralph jacke doff and ate her slave out. Once again the three of them reached climax at the same time and all three fell to the floor moaning and very tired. After a few minutes the three o fthem decided to take a shower together in the suites fancy full sized shower room. They giggled and seeme dot make a new bond.
Later that night as Monica and Bloody Nails sat in the parlor of the suite
-
U-Bahn
It was really late and I had decided not to spend the night after finishing with my latest conquest. I hopped on the subway and awaited the long boring ride. There are no express trains at night. I was alone in the car until a few stops into the ride, when this beautiful blond walked in. She was over 6 feet tall in her heels. She was wearing skintight jeans, which showed, off her long legs and perfect ass, and a white button up see-through blouse with no bra, which showed off her voluptuous breasts. She ran her fingers through her long blond hair when I noticed she had long fingers with rings on each one and each finger ended with enormous 3-inch blood red nails. She eyed the empty car and came and sat right next to me. She smiled at me and then she noticed me staring at her hands. Although she probably took quite a lot of pride in her perfect long nails, she was a little surprised and dismayed that I seemed to be ignoring her other incredible attributes. She figured if thats what I like then she will use the hands then. She started slowly running her nails over her body. She ran them up her calf, past the inner thigh, up her stomach and across her breasts. I was mesmerized. She did this until I stared uncontrollably in awe. Then she put her nails on my thigh and slowly caressed me until I was hard as a rock. She leaned in close and kissed my ear and my neck and then she abruptly stopped. She composed herself and then finally introduced herself and started a conversation. As we talked she started caressing my thigh and chest again. She then commented about how I smelled like I had been with a woman and hadn't showered. She smelled perfume and said that I smelled of sex. She was right I hadn't showered, after all, I did not expect to pick up another woman at 3:00 on the subway. In fact I was really tired and would have rejected most women, but this woman had me mesmerized. She was gorgeous and she had those nails. They caught my eye before she touched me, but the feeling of them scratching me sent thousands of electrical impulses through my body. There was also some danger, if she pushed too hard or put them near my eyes or my cock I would tense up with a little fear. The constant touching from her talons had my whole body super-sensitive and made each touch better than the previous one. I tried some macho reply to her query about my being with another woman, thinking that it was going to make her leave; but my scent of sex seemed to turn her on. She started calling me stud and invited me back to her place. I happily agreed. When we arrived she told me to strip while she took off her jeans and unbuttoned most of her blouse. She pushed me on the couch and ran her nails all over my body. After a couple of minutes she started fondling my balls with her pointy nails. This was the most incredible feeling I have ever felt. She ran them over my cock and balls for a couple of minutes, and then she started asking me about my sex earlier that night. I thought the details were turning her on. Her questions then turned to why didn't I stay with the other woman and how do I think the girl was going to feel waking up alone. Normally I would have left, rather then answering these uncomfortable questions, but she was still stroking my cock with her nails; so obviously, I listened and answered her questions. When she heard me tell her I wasn't planning on calling the girl, her eyes got cold and she tightened her grip on my balls and dug her nails in. I yelped in pain and tried to push her hand away but she pushed her nails further into my scrotum and told me if I move she will slice my balls off. She told me that she wanted to change my attitude toward women. She took the hand off my balls in order to show me the blood on her nails and put her other hand on my cock. She told me that I can lie back and suffer my attitude adjustment for the next few hours or she can remove my cock and balls instead. She accentuated this by digging all 5 nails into my dick and drawing blood. … Well anyway, I awoke 5 hours later on her couch. I was covered from head to toe in deep claw marks. Besides the hundreds of scratches on my back, chest and legs, I had four streaks on my face. One scratch simulated a mustache, one simulated a goatee, and I had one on each cheek. I remember her telling me that she only wanted to make it harder for me to pick up women, not to make it impossible. She said that she could easily scar my face so that people would run from my presence. She left my privates functional but warned me if she heard that I was still womanizing then that could easily be taken care of by her 3-inch talons.
-
Vanessa
vanessa1
Her nails looked so strong. her nails were easily an inch long, with a nice, smooth curve. They were squarish at the tips, polished in a nice, clear polish. Every now and then she would run her nails through her hair. Gosh, that really made me hot. I couldn't believe that she was doing this.
She was sitting just opposite me on the seat. She would lay down her nails in full view on her lap. my knees were mere inches from the tips of her incredible nails. Gosh how I wished she would rip something apart with those nails. She was looking out the train window, in the black yonder outside. YOu really couldn't see much out there, but I didn't need to look. All my attention were focused on the 10 perfect fingernails of the woman in front of me.
As the train passed the stations the people disembarked, there were less people on the train but I didn't notice. I was admiring the beauty of those inch long fingernails. How I wished she would scratch me with them. They probably wouldn't even bend as they sliced through my skin. They looked so incredibly strong. My mind was racing as to what she could open with such weapons. She could probably dig them straight through tomatoes. and apples. I imagined those talons digging through and slicing a banana in half. Gosh, she probably wouldn't even break a sweat.
I noticed 3 stations to go that me and her were pretty much the only people left in the carriage. I had to say something, as I didn't know if I would ever see her again. I didn't know what to say. finally I plucked up the courage to ope my mouth
"Excuse me.." I started. She gazed at me with her beautiful blue eyes. "...you've got very nice fingernails". My heart pounded as I awaited her reply. I didn't really have anything to lose. I had to say something.
She smiled at me as she lifted her fingers slightly off her lap to gaze at her nails "Thanks"
"They look very strong"
"Yeah, they are, very" she answered. I felt more comfortable. I was hoping that my desires wouldn't show. She examined them more closely. She started to clean them. Her nails made flicking noises as she cleaned her left thumbnail.
"wow. Can I have a look?"
"Sure" she said, casually holding them up for me. I had such a hard on, and I was trying to hide it but I think she noticed. I took her hand I examined each and every talon extending a full inch from her fingers.
"You can touch them, if you like..." she said. I couldn't believe she said that.
"Y-you sure?"
"positive. I wanted you to know how strong they are" I ran my finger on her thumbnail. It was so smooth, all through its length. I felt her index nail and it was exactly the same.
"Wow.. so strong" I managed to blurt out
"Trouble is that they grow so fast, I need to set aside a time to cut them" she said
"How often do you cut them?"
"I let 'em grow out for about 4 months, then I cut them back to about an inch. It's perfect for my work"
"Oh, Ok, and what do you do?"
"I'm a secretary" she answered "my company is a real cheapo - we don't even have staple removers"
"Do you work in the big city?"
"Yes, takes me an hour to get there every day - that's why I quit"
"Oh, really?"
"Yep. Today was my last day - I'm so glad it's all over"
"Oh, wow"
"Yeah, I was really getting sick of using my nails to take off staples and open letters and everything."
"You must break your nails a lot"
"Oh, na, my nails are incredibly strong, Thank GOD."
"Wow - you open letters with your nails?"
"Oh, yeah. My boss wouldn't get a letter opener. It's so much faster than a pen. I use my nails like a knife. Once I tear open a little of the letter it's just a matter of sliding my nails across to open it."
"Oh, wow, sounds like your nails are really strong, and sharp too."
"Oh, yeah, they have to be. Have you ever tried taking off a staple with fingernails?"
"No, never"
"Well, I do it on a daily basis. I would take off maybe - 7 or 8 staples a day"
"Wow. You must have broken a few talons, er nails, because of that"
"Oh, no, my CLAWS are strong enough to take staples off, thank GOD" she said, smiling
"Wow, amazing"
"Yeah, well. Necessity really does wonders. Thank GOD I don't have to do it anymore"
"Oh, no... I gues you'll be cutting your nails off"
"No way! I love having them this long. You know, I've got this habit of really puncturing my coffee cup in the morning"
"Huh?"
"Morning's really slow at work, so I have time. When I finish my coffee I start puncturing my styrofoam cup with my nails - just for fun"
"Really? for practice?"
"I guess you can say that. More for fun though, cos' usually I don't have anything to do. I love feeling my nails puncturing through - all of them. When I finish the cup is usually falling apart - I just won't stop until it's been ripped to shreds"
I felt the train stop on the last station.
"Wow - thanks for the chat about your nails... I really enjoyed it" she reached over and felt the bulge in my pants
"I know you did" she smirked "My name's Vanessa. What's yours?"
"Chris"
"Well that is a nice name" she smiled, running her fingers through her hair. "Would you join me for a coffee?" I took a deep breath to let all the desire under control
"OK then" I said meekly. We got out of the train. She put her arms around mine. We walked over the the coffee shop just outside the station. We sat down inside one of the square tables, opposite each other. One of the counter staff approached
"1 cappuccino and..." I said, looking at her
"Same, please, to go" she said. She put her bag down and laid all her nails on the table. I looked at them and took a big, deep sigh, which I'm sure no doubt she noticed. Gosh, her nails curved downwards toward the table, as if she was just about to dig them through.
"Do you usually have coffees with strangers?" I asked
"Just ones I KNOW I can handle"
"Oh" I smiled, and she smiled back. I think she knew she had me where she wanted me. She put her hands closer to me and started tapping her nails on the table. She was looking straight into my eyes. She didn't stop tapping all her claws. She tapped them so slightly, I doubt whether the waiter making our coffee would have noticed. It was as if it was just for me. I was enjoying her pleasure. I was looking at her nails tap on the table, seeing how incredibly strong they must have been to withstand what she was doing with her 1-inch talons.
"Can you see how strong they must be?" she asked, whisphering
"Can they be stronger?" I asked
"Oh, yes they are - much, much stronger than you think... I'll show you later what else I use my nails for, OK?"
"Ok" she placed her index nail on my finger and slid it across, leaving a long, red welt. Gosh they felt so sharp! I paid for both our coffess and headed off the shop.
"You're going to my car, OK?" she asked as she put her arms around mine, as if to gently pull me along.
vanessa2
"Did you like me tapping my nails on the table?"
"That was fantastic, Vanessa"
"I didn't want to tap my nails too hard - didn't want to damage the table, you know" I looked at her as if I didn't believe her
"What?" she asked, as if she was shocked I didn't believe her "Can't you see how strong my 1 inch talons are?"
"That was solid wood there you were tapping on" I said
"Yeah, and my nails are like SOLID STEEL" she said, sipping on her coffee. I stared at her curving 1 inch talons. The clear polish made them seem all the more stronger
"Have you ever tried Chrome silver nail polish? It would suit your nails - seeing their like steel and all" I said
"No - no I haven't. I'll think about it" she said. We reached a battered down old black ford right at the end of the dirt car park. There were no other cars or anything there.
"Chris, meet fiona the ford"
"Fiona! that's a nice name for a car" Vanessa looked inside her handbag, and took out some keys. I was totally hypnotised the way that her nails seemed wrapped around the coffee cup.
"Can you open the door for a lady?" she asked, smiling. I was happy to oblige. She handed the keys to me on her palm. I could see how wickedly curving her nails were, and I could see underneath them. I had such a big hard on it wasn't funny. I tried the first key, but no luck. I smiled at her, and she smiled back. I tried the second, and it didn't even fit at all.
"I went through all these, sorry, I don't think anything fits"
"Silly, let me try" she took the keys by her left hand. She then jabbed the index nail of her right and inserted it all the way through into the key hole. Vanessa was looking at me the whole time, but I was looking at her index nail the whole time. She then gave it a little twist and up popped the lock. I couldn't believe it. My jaw must have been a mile wide.
"The keys are for show. I use my nails to drive my car. Get inside, it's central locking". I opened the door for Vanessa after she took out her nail. I couldn't stop staring at them. I went around and got in the passenger side. Vanessa finished off the last of her coffee.
"How do you start the car?" I asked, almost trembling. Vanessa held up her index nail, still square and looked as if she didn't do anything with that nail.With ease I heard her nail slide into position and then she twisted her finger. The car's engine came to life. My jaw was on the floor. Her nails were just super strong.
"What? oh, were you worried I was going to break my nails? Don't be silly" she said as she examined her index nail. It looked so thick and hard, and yet so wafer thin at the edges. Her nails looked harder than steel.
She then placed her index nail on the bottom of her styrofoam cup and punctured it so easily. She dug her nails all the way through to her fingertips. She then started to drag it along the stryofoam, and her nail started to slice through it oh so easily, as if she had a razor. Well, she did. It was an inch long. She didn't stop it until she reached the mouth of the cup. She then went back to her original puncture and sliced the cup from the other side. When she finished, she had sliced the cup cleanly in half.
"See how sharp they are" Vanessa said. "They're like razors.
"I think they are" I replied
"Can I take you home for a few hours?"
"Oh... yes please" I replied. She started to roll off the park, and we went up an embankment up a main road. My stick was just rock hard watching her super strong, razor sharp fingernails make short work of the stryofoam cup.
"Take off your pants"
"Are you serious?" I asked
"Yes I am"
"Ok, then" I unzipped my pants, exposing my stiff stick. Vanessa kept driving along, but she started the scratch my stick lightly. I pressed my head hard against the headrest as waves of pleasure went through me
"Oh, Gosh, that felt really good" Vanessa kept scratching. Her talons felt so sharp, I could feel the top layer of my stick getting sliced. I could see long, red welts on my stick as she kept slicing my stick slightly. Soon she had me on the edge of ecstasy. She pulled the car over. I noticed that we were no longer in a main road. There were not many lights.
vanessa3
"Can you feel how sharp my nails are when I scrape them on your stick?"
"Oh, yeah, they are sooo sharp, Vanessa" She turned off the engine and the lights. It was so dark, I couldn't see a thing, but I knew my stick was hard and a stunning woman is sitting next to me in her car. She slipped over the transmission and went on top of me. She took off her top, and ran her nails slowly through her hair. I could hear her nails rubbing against her hair.
"You're going to give me what I want, aren't you?"
"And what is it that you want?
"You know what I want" she replied "she took of her blouse. She was down to her knickers and her bra. My mouth was watering as she put her boobs so close to my face that I could smell them.
"Take off my knickers, Chris. I wanted to feel you"
"Ok then" I replied as I obligingly as she grabbed my head. I could feel her talons on the side of my head. Vanessa inserted my stick into her.
"Oh, that feels so nice....." she said.
"Oh, Gosh. That's great" I exclaimed
"Do you know what really gets me off?" she asked. She was making this circular motion with her waist. It felt so nice on my stick
"What?"
"I just love feeling so powerful - I love using my claws to rip things to shreds!"
"Oh really, and what would you do with your claws?"
"I just love feeling it when my talons are inside things - Even when it's so easy to dig them in" she was starting to slide up and down my stick
"what do...?"
"Shut up! I can dig my nails so easily though your flesh you'd better shut the hell up" She kept going, moving up and down on me. I think she was just getting started. She started moaning so hard. I could feel her talons squeezing on my head.
"Owww"
"That's pathetic" she snapped "How easily can I puncture my claws through your skull? Very, easy, Chris, Very easy"
"Really?" She was moving up and down a little bit more quickly now. I was almost starting to cum. She was staring straight into my eyes. I couldn't tell whether she wanted to screw me or rip me apart with her inch long claws. I just wish she would hurry up and tear me apart now.
"GOD, my nails are so strong, Chris. You saw how I opened my car with my nails, they are just sooo strong, Chris"
"Yes, they are..."
"I told you to shut the hell up!" She was moving up and down with amazing speed.
She put her hands on my shoulder. She lined up her thumbnail and started to squeeze.
"Owww..."
"Shut the hell up and fuck me!" she screamed. I started moving my stick in her, up and down. I could feel the build up of the pressure on my collarbone, and I whimpered at the pain but feeling her nails on me, even when she was about to impale me with them was so erotic.
"I just wanted to dig my nails into you, Chris - I hope you don't mind"
"Owww..."
"I didn't think you minded" The pressure of her nails was too much for my skin. Her thumbnail slid off my collarbone and punctured my shoulder. I could feel them sinking into my flesh so easily. All one inch of them.
"ahhhh..... Gosh it hurts...... owww...." I whimpered as I was about ready to explode.
"Gosh, Chris your jacket and your shirt couldn't even stop my nails digging through.... Can you feel my nails inside your flesh?" she was just about to cum. I was whimpering in pain. I just felt like begging her to stop but thinking about how strong and sharp her nails must have been was just bursting me towards my orgasm.
"Oh, my GOD, Oh my GOD!!!!" she exclaimed as she exploded into orgasm. I could feel her nails almost puncturing my shoulder blade as waves of pleasure went through mine. Both of us had our orgasm at the same time. After the orgasm subsided I was in enormous pain. Vanessa was looking at me like I was a toy, made for her to play with her nails.
"Gosh, Chris that was amazing" She exclaimed. I managed a smile but I could still feel her steel hard talons inside my shoulder. It was miraculous that she hadn't impaled me with her other fingernails.I could now feel they had almost penetrated my shoulder blade.
"Oh, Vanessa, that was amazing" I whispered, exhausted and tired "Could you please take off your nails?"
"Hmmm... I'll think about it" she replied.
"Please" I begged. She was still looking at me like she wanted to tear me apart. After a little while staring she pulled off her thumbnails, all bloody from penetrating through my flesh. She then kissed me on the lips and hopped on the driver seat. She didn't bother putting anything back on. She started driving stark naked back to her house.
We didn't pass many cars along the way, though. Finally we reached a humble 2 storey estate. There was blood on my jacket. I felt so tired, but she didn't seem like it. Vanessa put her shoes on, but that was it
"Aren't you going to put anything back on?"
"Nah, my parents are away for 4 months, and my neighbours are too far away to see. C'mon my little play thing" She got out without a care in the world. Given, it was very dark save for a dim porch light.
-
Vengeance
Vengeance…by J.K. Sangfroid
I.
"Sara! Mr. Kent wants to see you in his office. Like, puh-ron-toh," hollered Norbit
Holloway, with a toss of his blond-tipped hair and a flourish of his hand, after which it
came to rest on his jutted hip as he struck a theatrical pose. In contrast to her
flamboyantly-gay department supervisor, twenty-nine year-old Sara Dowd was painfully
shy and restrained. She wore her mousey-brown hair in a ponytail, and never makeup.
On the rare occasions she lifted her head when speaking to someone, she hid her pale
gray eyes behind the large tortoise-shell-rimmed glasses she wore for close work. "Oh.
Alright," Sara said barely above a whisper, removing her glasses and letting them hang
on the chain she wore around her neck. Arms around herself in a protective self-
embrace, and avoiding eye-contact with her co-workers, Sara slipped silently off her lab
stool and padded quietly out into the hallway and down to the glass door stenciled "Alan
P. Kent, Vice-President of Product Development". She knocked lightly, and after several
moments when there was no answer, knocked a little louder. "Yes?" boomed from
inside. "Its Sara. Sara Dowd, Mr. Kent. Norbit said you wanted to see me," she said
timidly. "Come in Sara," the voice said. The door was very heavy and Sara, barely five-
one and 100 lbs, had to lean mightily to open it. "Please, sit down," Alan Kent said, not
bothering to look up from the pile of spreadsheets on his desk. "Thank you, sir," Sara
said with her customary shyness, staring down into her lap as she sat gingerly on the edge
of the chair in front of her boss huge desk.
Kent clasped his hands together in front of him on the paper-strewn desk and took a deep
breath. "Sara, I wont try to beat around the bush or sugar-coat this: Im afraid weve
decided to end your project and as a consequence, your position is being eliminated."
Sara gasped and began to shake. "Im really sorry, Sara. But the fact is, our research
shows that such a product just wouldnt sell," Kent explained. "Ive been working on it
night and day for three years! All it needs is a little more testing…a few weeks, to see if
there are any adverse reactions," she whimpered. Kent leaned forward, eyeing her up and
down as she gnawed nervously at her fingertips. "Sara, youre a great chemist, but I can
see youre not into fashion trends. Women today are either keeping their nails short or
else getting acrylics. We just dont feel theres a profitable market for another nail-
growth/hardener product, no matter how well it works." Sara sighed. "We have a good
severance package, and Ill be happy to write you a letter of recommendation," Kent said.
"Thank you, sir," Sara answered, wiping her eyes. She got up slowly, turned, and walked
softly to the door, which took all her strength to open.
"So? What did Mr. Kent want? Tell me! Tell me!" Norbit pleaded, bouncing like a
child who badly needs to pee. "Ive been laid-off," Sara said in her almost-whisper, eyes
trained at the floor. "OH MY GOD!" Norbit cried, and he threw his arms around Sara,
"You poor, poor sweet darling!" "Its ok," she said blandly. "OK? I would just be down
on my knees bawling!" Norbit flamed. "I have to clean out my things," Sara said pushing
free of Norbits embrace. She picked up a discarded cardboard box from the corner and
took it to her lab bench, where she proceeded to fill it with her personal belongings, like
her little cactus in the green frog planter, and the small framed picture of her cat Mr.
Whiskers, who had died two weeks earlier at seventeen years old. Sara spied the little
rack with bottles of the product she had been working on. There were six bottles each
labeled with a date. Six tiny bottles, that was all she had to show for the last three years
of her life. On a sudden impulse, after looking around to be sure nobody was looking,
she quickly grabbed the most recent bottle and buried it in the dirt of her planter so it
wouldnt be discovered when security checked her box and purse before she left.
Sara rode the bus back to her apartment carrying the cardboard box on her lap, pondering
her future. She was so engrossed that she missed her stop, and rather than wait for the
return bus, decided to walk from the next stop. It was somewhat of a seedy
neighborhood, but Sara was distraught and depressed and numb to her customary
fearfulness. As she walked along, she heard a set of footsteps behind her, and got the
sense someone was following her, but she kept on. Shortly, she heard two sets of
footsteps, and she began walking faster. The footsteps sped up also. Sara felt a rush of
panic, and she started to run. Suddenly there was a hulking figure of a man blocking her
path. She tried to go around him but he stepped sideways to intercept her. Then the two
sets of footsteps that had followed her stopped, and she was surrounded. A gloved hand
clamped tightly over her mouth preventing her from screaming. Strong arms lifted her
off the ground, kicking her legs ineffectively. She heard the men laughing as they
dragged her into a dark alleyway.
Sara crawled to the side of the alley and sat against the brick building to catch her breath.
She pulled what was left of her torn blouse around her, and smoothed her skirt down.
Her shoes, bra and panties lay muddied in the wet alley like fallen soldiers. Her
cardboard box was soaked and ripped, her little frog planter smashed, and the cactus
trampled. She got to her feet and saw the picture of her dear departed Mr. Whiskers lying
a few feet away, the glass broken, and she picked it up. As she stumbled away, she saw
something shiny lying by a drain pipe. It was the little bottle shed buried in her planter.
Sara picked it up and, along with the broken picture, clutched it to herself as she tried to
keep her blouse together covering her breasts. She looked around for her purse but it
was gone, undoubtedly stolen by the men who had raped her. Sloshing through the
muddy alley in her torn panty hose, Sara staggered to the street and ran home as fast as
she could. She fished her spare key from underneath the planter by her door. She left a
trail of muddy footsteps and torn clothing through the little studio apartment to the
bathroom, where she crouched in her shower, sobbing, until there was no more hot water
to wash away her pain and humiliation. Still sobbing, Sara pulled on a pair of jeans and a
sweatshirt. Her hair still wet and tangled, she went back out into the night and hailed a
cab. "The closest ER," she said to the cabbie, so quietly he had to make her repeat it.
Sara asked incredulously, "You cant catch the animals who did this to me?" The female
detective tried to be sympathetic, but it had been a long day and she had little patience
left. "You said the men wore condoms, and then, by taking a shower you washed away
any trace DNA we might have found if youd come straight to the ER and let us do a rape
kit," the detective said. "So youre saying this is all my fault?" Sara screamed. "Of
course not. Not the rape," the female detective stated, "But even if we caught these
bastards, you inadvertently destroyed any evidence we might have been able to use to
convict them. So itd be your word against three guys who, I can assure you, will all lie
to alibi each other out." "So thats it?" Sara asked. "Until and unless they rape someone
else, Im afraid so," the detective said, "And, oh, by the way, if I were you Id get my
locks changed right away, since you said they stole your purse with your keys and ID in
it." "You mean they might come to my apartment?" Sara screamed hysterically. "Its
highly unlikely, because theres too many chances for witnesses, but you cant ever be a
hundred percent sure," the detective said. Sara slid off the exam table and began to dress
herself. "You need to let the doctors take your blood," the detective said, "You need to
get tested for HIV." "Oh….God!" Sara cried, falling to her knees sobbing, banging her
fists on the thin mattress. "Probably youre fine. They all wore condoms. Youre
lucky," the detective said. Sara looked up at her with tear-reddened eyes. "Yeah, Im so
lucky," she said facetiously, so quietly her words were lost in the hubbub of the busy ER.
Glancing around fearfully as she got out of the cab in front of the building, Sara quickly
trotted up the steps and went inside her building. Once inside her apartment she latched
the two deadbolts and leaned back against the door. She was breathing hard, her heart
was racing. She went to the kitchenette and rifled through the drawers until she found the
largest butcher knife she owned. Sara unfolded her sleeper couch and crawled under the
covers, setting the knife on her end table by her alarm clock. From force of habit she set
the clock for 7AM although she had no reason to be up at that hour, no place to go. Sara
glanced around at her empty little studio apartment, so quiet without Mr. Whiskers. She
looked at the picture of him, with its cracked glass. She looked at the pile of her torn
clothes on the floor, then at the butcher knife by her bed. Sara began to gnaw at her
middle fingernail. She held out her hands and examined her bitten nails. Shed never
really given them any thought before, but somehow now they disgusted her. Sara thought
of the little glass bottle shed taken from her former job, now sitting on the end table like
a tiny monument to the last three years of her life. Her miserable, tormented life.
Holding the little bottle delicately she rolled it around, looking through the clear liquid,
watching it refract and distort her dingy little studio apartment. Suddenly Sara sat up and
swung her feet over the side of the bed. She took a deep breath and unscrewed the brush
cap from the little bottle and began applying the liquid to the stubs of her nails,
meticulously, as she did everything in her life. It felt to her like an act with great
significance, a step taken of her own will, a step toward taking back control of her life
from the circumstances that had wrested it away from her in a single day. When she was
done, she blew on her nails and waived her fingers around. Exhausted and drained, as
much from the symbolic catharsis of the days trauma as from the events themselves,
Sara lay back and fell into a deep sleep.
Suddenly she was shaken awake by a blast of sound, and she froze in a cold-sweat panic.
In a moment Sara realized that it was only her alarm clock, that shed set the night before
out of habit. Sleepily she reached to shut it off. Again she felt a cold panic, because for a
split-second she could have sworn it was someone elses thumb she saw resting on the
clock. But she could feel the square plastic face. It was her thumb. She blinked hard.
Where before she had gone to bed there was only the skin of her fingertip, now there was
a long extension of clear nail! Sara looked at her two hands. There was about a half-inch
of fresh, long nail on every finger! "Son of a bitch!" she exclaimed to herself in a loud
whisper, but quickly put her hand over her mouth, shocked because even in the worst of
situations she never before in her life had uttered a profanity.
Sara took a long shower, then put her pajamas back on and, covered with a robe,
cautiously opened the front door to retrieve her newspaper. Then she quickly locked the
deadbolts again. She made herself cereal and tea and turned on the TV, not really
watching or listening, just to break the deathly silence in her little one-room apartment,
and to hear chipper, up-beat human voices. While she read the paper, Sara kept glancing
at her hands, checking her nails. Back at the beginning of her research project shed read
that fingernails grow about a millimeter a week, yet hers had grown more than ten times
that much overnight. She was pleased not only that her formula seemed to work better
than expected, but she liked the way her hands looked. She couldnt fathom why her
company didnt think a product like hers would sell, why women would rather have
short, stubby nails, or tacky, fake-looking acrylics that damage the real nails underneath.
Sara sighed, and she opened the paper to the job classifieds. Her meager savings
wouldnt last long, so she had no choice but to find another job quickly. She had no time
for introspection, which she thought was a good thing, because then shed have to think
about the rape. Of course, that made her think about it. But it was strange, because she
expected to relive the horrific experience in her mind like a home movie on a continuous
loop, and to break down and cry. Instead, all she could recall were the faces of her
attackers, clearly and in vivid detail, just looking at her. But rather than laughing and
taunting and menacing as they had been in real-life, in Saras mind their faces were
ashen, terrified, and their eyes wild with anguish rolled back in their heads, and blood
trickled from the corners of their mouths as they gasped their final breath. Sara shook
herself back to reality and resumed scanning the classifieds. There werent any want-ads
for research chemists, so Sara began looking through the secretarial ads. Unconsciously
from habit, she brought her finger to her mouth. As soon as she felt her new long nail
with her tongue it reminded her shed decided to stop biting them. She took her hand
away from her mouth, feeling proud of her newfound willpower.
Sara called a head-hunter and submitted her resume, but she also called some of the
secretarial ads from the paper, and filled out a few on-line job applications. It took her
most of the day, and she found herself preparing dinner. She checked the little
refrigerator in her pulman kitchen, and looked through the tiny cabinets. She figured she
had enough groceries to last perhaps a week, so there was no need for her to face going
back out in the city quite yet. After dinner Sara took another long shower, and then
opened her sleeper couch and crawled under the covers. She caught herself reaching to
set the alarm, and stopped herself. With the high, nasal voice of a late-night talk show
host delivering his nightly monologue as background, Sara carefully brushed her formula
on her fingernails, then blew on them until she was sure they were dry. She turned off
the TV and set the remote on the end table, and she settled under the covers and closed
her eyes. Quite suddenly, the sound of rap music boomed up from the apartment below,
as it had often in the past. Shed never met her downstairs neighbors, but given their
taste in music and blatant disregard for disturbing other peoples sleep, had always put
earplugs in her ears and pulled her pillow over her head. This time, before she knew
what was happening, Sara was on her feet, banging the metal legs of her sleeper couch
against the hardwood floor and screaming, "Turn that fucking shit down, asshole!" She
gasped out loud and clamped both hands over her mouth, and she got down on her knees
and with her face to the floor shouted, "Im sorry! I didnt mean it! Im sorry!" But the
music stopped, and nobody came banging on her door as she feared they might. Sara
slept well that night.
The next morning, rather than her usual 7 oclock alarm, it was sunlight that awakened
Sara. She glanced at the clock, it was nearly noon. Sara yawned, and stretched her arms
high above her. Looking up, she blinked hard, sure that she wasnt seeing clearly. She
rubbed her eyes with her knuckles, and looked again. Lit from behind by the sun
streaming in through the window, her fingernails had grown again overnight, and now
were nearly a full inch long! Sara laughed and exclaimed, "Oh my God!" She clasped
her little bottle of nail formula to her small breast like a little child would clasp a favorite
teddy bear. "It works!" she said, "It fucking works!" Again she clamped her hands over
her mouth with surprise at having uttered an obscenity. She slid off the bed and went to
the kitchen to put a pot of coffee to brew. "Shit!" she exclaimed as she caught her nails
on the edge of the coffee can taking the lid off. She quickly examined her nails,
expecting to see them broken, but they were unharmed. "My formula so works!" she said
brightly. While the coffee pot burbled and the aroma of French Roast began to waft
through her little studio apartment, Sara trotted to the bathroom and turned on the shower.
While she lathered herself, she began to hum "Eye of the Tiger" from the movie
"Rocky". Suddenly she stopped. Shed never liked those movies. Moreover, she
thought it very odd that her mood would be up-beat only a couple days after having lost
her job and been attacked and raped. She thought maybe it was the beginning of her
losing her mind. She admonished herself not to hum, although the song was still playing
in her head, and she grabbed the soap and began lathering her legs furiously. "Ow!" she
cried, feeling a swift, fiery pain. She looked down, and there were four straight, shallow
gouges on her thigh. Quickly they filled and re-filled with blood as the shower rinsed
them. "Ow! Ow! Ow! Owwwww!" she whined as the soap burned her where shed
accidentally scratched herself, having forgotten that she now had one-inch fingernails.
She got out of the shower and patted her wounds with tissue to stop the bleeding. "Screw
these!" she said glaring at her nails, and she put one between her teeth and bit down.
"Aaargh!" she grunted in frustration, biting and gnawing. Finally she heard a snap.
"Ow! Crap!" she cried, and quickly bared her teeth in the mirror. Sara breathed a sigh of
relief that she hadnt chipped her tooth as it had felt, but at the same time she looked with
puzzlement at her nail which was also still intact. She began to dig and rummage through
her bathroom drawers. "Aha! There it is! I knew I had one!" Sara said to herself when
she finally found the pair of nail clippers which, as a nail-biter, she had never before
needed to use. She flipped it open and inserted her left pinkie nail, squeezing the clippers
with her right hand. Harder and harder she squeezed the lever, almost all the way down,
but when she released it, her nail didnt even have a mark. "Piece of shit," she muttered,
tossing the clipper into the waste basket.
As she had done the day before, Sara spent the morning poring over the want-ads, and the
afternoon filling out on-line job applications and e-mailing her resume. Dinner, some
TV, a little reading, and once again it was time for bed. A knock on the door startled her,
and she felt a cold panic. Cautiously she peeked through the peep-hole. There she saw
the distorted face of her building super. "Mees Sara? It ees I, Mikhail. I get your e-mail,
so I have come to change for you lock," he said in a thick slavic accent. Gradually, Sara
opened the dead-bolts and then the door. "I can ask vy you need change lock?" Mikhail
asked with friendly curiosity. "I was…uh," she hesitated, "…mugged. They stole my
purse, with my ID and keys." "Fuckeen sheeet!" Mikhail gasped, "You ok? Zey did not
hurt you, I hope." "Uh…no," she lied. "If you vill see zem again, you vill tell me, ok? I
vill take some friends and ve vill beat sheet out of zem!" "Thank you, Mikhail, but I
wouldnt want you to get in trouble," Sara said with a smile. "Ees no trouble, I am
suppose to protect you. I am man and you are vooman," Mikhail said spreading his tools
on the floor, and with a wink, "Wery, wery bee-u-tee-ful vooman." Sara had known that
Mikhail had a crush on her, but she was always mindful never to lead him on. He was
older than her, perhaps fifteen years, short and stocky, and very, very hairy. His front
teeth were rimmed with gold, and he always smelled from cigarettes and sweat. But for
some reason she couldn't even begin to fathom, watching Mikhail on his knees changing
her lock Sara felt a heaviness in her groin, and a tingle. "Ok, I all finish. Here your new
keys," Mikhail said jangling the ring in front of her. "Thank you so much, Mikhail," she
said snatching the keys quickly. She felt her nails scrape his hand, and she gasped, "Oh
my gosh, did I scratch you?" "Ees nothing," he said covering his hand with the other.
"Let me see! Oh my God, youre bleeding! Oh my God! Im so sorry! I need to cut my
nails…but my clipper was dull and I had to throw it out," Sara explained. "Here, use
my," Mikhail said producing a nail clipper from his key chain. "Thanks," Sara said
taking it quickly and inserting her pinkie. Squeezing hard, she laughed, "Looks like
yours is dull, too." "Was fine when I use only just this morning," Mikhail said showing
her his recently-clipped nails, "Let I try for you." Sara blushed a little and held out her
hand. Mikhail took her hand gently. His hands were very rough, but very warm. The
heaviness and tingling in Saras groin grew stronger, and it distracted her. "I do not
understand," Mikhail said scratching his head, unable to put a dent in Saras fingernail.
He tried the clipper on his own nail and it easily bit a piece off. "Nevermind. Thank you
for the lock, Mikhail. And Im sorry I scratched you," Sara said. "Good night, Mees
Sara," he said politely.
Sara shut the door quickly and latched the deadbolts, then leaned back against the door
for a moment. She felt flushed and her heart was racing. She took a deep breath and went
to her sofa-bed and unfolded it. Propped up against her pillows, she tried to read but the
feeling in her loins was impossible to ignore. She slid her hand down into her pajamas
and her fingers found her pussy wet and her clit swollen and hyper-sensitive. Closing her
eyes she began to finger herself, while with her other hand she fondled her little breasts.
In moments she had an orgasm of such magnitude she had never experienced before, so
forceful it rattled the fold-out bed. Breathlessly she basked in the sweet release for a
while, but as her senses returned she felt disquieted. She thought, if anything, having
been raped would have deadened her sexual desire, not made it stronger. And definitely
not made her horny for the smelly, hairy, gold-toothed super, fifteen years her senior.
Sara glanced at her new, clear inch-long fingernails and, recalling how it had been
impossible to cut them with clippers, decided to forego another application of her
formula. She put the little bottle carefully away in the drawer of her end-table. Sara
turned out the light and, spent from her crashing orgasm, fell asleep quickly.
In the morning Sara opened her eyes and gasped with a start, at her right hand on the
pillow next to her face. Her fingernails were twice as long as theyd been the night
before. Two inches now! Panicked, she ran to her dresser and began tearing through her
top drawer, finally coming up with a coarse diamond file with a pink plastic handle in the
shape of a cats paw, with which she used to dull the late Mr. Whiskers claws. She drew
the file across her ring-finger nail once, slowly, and then again more quickly and with
more pressure. She filed again and again, faster and harder, until she was going at it
furiously, whimpering, whining with increasing frustration that it was having no effect on
her nail at all. She gasped when she looked at the file and saw that the coarse diamond
surface had been worn almost to a polished sheen, and when she touched the file she
jumped because it was hot. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" she shouted, stamping her foot. She
clapped her hand over her mouth, as though it was some external force that had
summoned the f-word from her mouth. Then she had an idea. Sara quickly jumped into
some sweats and ran down to the basement where Mikhail lived in a little room next to
the buildings maintenance shop. Mihkail opened the door to her frantic knocking. He
was wearing only his boxers, and Sara averted her eyes. "Mees Sara? Ees problem?
Does lock I put for you not work?" he asked. "No, it works fine, Mikhail, thank you,"
she said sweetly, using her hand like a blinder to avoid looking at him undressed. "Y-
your nails, Mees Sara!" he exclaimed, noticing they were twice as long as the night
before, "I do not understand." "Its a long story…anyway, I could use your help," she
said. "Of course! Anything of my, is yours!" Mikhail said with a gold-toothed smile.
Sara smiled back rather uneasily. "Could I see your workshop?" she asked. "Yes,
come," he said turning to lead her inside. Sara couldnt help but stare at the thick mat of
hair that covered his back like a fur rug. Surprisingly it didnt gross her out as it would
have in the past. In fact, she felt the heaviness and tingle begin in her groin. Mikhail
stopped suddenly and did an about-face, and Sara bumped straight into him. "Oh, Im
sorry…so clumsy of me," she apologized, but she didnt move back immediately. She
couldnt. She just stood there pressed against his warm, hairy body, inhaling his scent,
unable to move. Wanting to slip his boxers down and mount him.
Sara shook herself and took a deep breath. "Can I use your tools?" she asked pointing at
Mikhails cluttered workbench. "Of course…but what for you need?" he asked. Without
responding Sara walked quickly to the bench and plucked a large pair of tin-snips, a tool
like a scissors on steroids, and she placed the two-inch nail of her left pinkie between the
blades, and she squeezed with all her might. Nothing. Then she tried a pair of large
wire-cutters. No effect at all. A hacksaw. Not even a mark. "Youd better stand back,"
she told Mikhail as she switched on his bench grinder. The two heavy abrasive wheels
whirred at 3000 rpms. Sara donned safety goggles and planted her feet for leverage,
then she pressed each of her thumbnails against the fast-spinning grinder wheels. A huge
cloud of gray dust rose up in the air. Sara smiled and pressed harder. After a minute she
stepped back, coughing and fanning away the dust with her hands. "Fuckeen sheet!"
Mikhail exclaimed. "Fucking shit is right!" Sara gulped. The two large grinding wheels
were now half their former diameter…and Saras thumbnails were unchanged. Sara sank
to her knees with a sigh of desperation, staring disbelieving at her seemingly-
indestructible two-inch fingernails. "What have I done to myself? What am I going to
do? I cant cut my fingernails!" she complained quietly. "Vy ees problem? Vy you vant
cut zem?" Mikhail asked, "You are vooman after all. Ozzer vooman must be jealous
you, because eef cannot cut, also means cannot broke! All vooman vant have lonk nails,
for make preetier." "Not according to my boss. Thats why Im in this mess," she sighed
with a shake of her head. "Your boss vas idiot," Mikhail said helping Sara to her feet.
"Real vooman must to have lonk nails…to please real man she must to make love like
tigress!" Mikhail said slapping his hairy chest with bravado, then he looked intensely into
her eyes and said earnestly, "Mees Sara, for me have bee-u-tee-ful, sexy vooman like
you, ees only my dream!" Sara laughed embarrassedly, "You know what they say: Be
careful what you wish for." But suddenly it was as if the feeling in her loins had a
volume control, and someone had just turned it up to 11. Suddenly she found herself
with her legs wrapped around Mikhails stocky waist, her arms around his thick neck, her
tongue burrowing inside his mouth. They stumbled back toward the little room where he
lived and back onto the old wooden bed that began to creak noisily in harmony with the
sound of their pelvises slapping together as Sara rode Mikhail like a cyclone, thrusting
and pounding with the rhythm of a locomotive. She reached under him and raked his
back, and Mikhail let out a scream. Sara sat up, staring at her hands. Her fingernails
were red with blood. She gasped with shock but in a split-second, before any feeling of
remorse could rise to the surface, the sensation of his hard cock inside her overwhelmed
her. "Like a tigress," she quoted him with a wicked nod, and she resumed riding him
furiously. Sara leaned forward and grabbed the headboard to steady herself as she
continued fucking relentlessly. Mikhail heard a loud crunch, and when he glanced up and
behind his head he saw Sara was splintering the wooden headboard with her blood-caked
nails. Her moans began to quicken and rise in pitch and volume. Mikhail could feel
himself getting near as well. Suddenly Sara lunged forward and slapped her hands
against the wall above the bed. She let out a baleful, primal scream, and an avalanche of
plaster rained down on Mikhails face. Sara stopped riding him, and she casually stepped
off. Mikhail lay there, staring between the large jagged hole shed clawed in his wall, his
headboard shed splintered with her nails, and his erect dick standing like a lonely
flagpole. He looked pleadingly at Sara. "I-I did not finished," he whined. "Well I am,
so finish yourself," she said heartlessly, picking her sweats up off the floor. And she
dressed quickly and left.
Sara went back up to her little studio apartment and took a shower. This time she was
very mindful of her new, sharp long fingernails, that she wouldnt scratch herself. In her
steamy little bathroom as the hot water cascaded down her body and rinsed away the rich
lather of vetiver-scented soap, Sara held her hands up before her eyes. She posed her
fingers around slowly, watching the droplets of water that hung from the two-inch tips of
her nails. She tapped her nails against the shower wall and dragged them a few inches.
They left deep gouges in the tile, and Sara felt exhilaration. She thought about what
Mikhail had said, that real women should have long nails, and be like tigers, and she
smiled to herself. She thought about her boss, that he was, as Mikhail said, an idiot. She
laughed out loud. Then she thought about how in a single moment he had callously
negated three years of her life. She thought about how if not for that, she would not have
been walking home through the seedy neighborhood, and she would not have been raped.
She thought about the rape, and the men who had raped her. She thought about how
effortlessly her new, undamageable long fingernails could penetrate things. Things much
more resilient than human flesh.
The following morning when she awoke, the first thing Sara did was look at her hands,
but this time with eager anticipation. This time it was a gasp of delight that escaped her
lips when she saw that they now extended two and a half inches from her fingertips, and
that they had begun to take on a subtle, graceful curve. Sara got dressed and headed
outdoors for the first time since her attack. She went uptown, and she went shopping, not
caring that she was unemployed and had very little savings. She bought a host of tight-
fitting, sexy designer dresses and numerous pairs of Italian-made shoes with six-inch
stiletto heels. She spent $1000 on lingerie alone. On her way she stopped into a salon to
have her hair styled and colored. Then, on an evil whim, she sat down in the manicurists
chair. She did it just to hear the little Vietnamese woman scold her in broken English
how skanky and out-of-style her nails were, and then to watch and laugh at the
dumbfounded look on her face when she tried in vain to cut them. That night wearing
her new French-lace teddy, Sara sat in her sofa-bed and took a long time examining her
two-and-a-half-inch fingernails, admiring their elegant shape, and relishing their sublime
sheen. She leaned back, closed her eyes, and began fingering herself. Suddenly the
sound of rap music shook her from her pleasured bliss. "Ass holes!" she hissed hopping
out of bed and stomping to the door.
"Who th fuck yall think yall are, be bangin on mah doe?....Whoa! Momma!
Wassup?" the muscled-up shirtless downstairs neighbors attitude did a 180 and his jaw
dropped when he opened the door and saw Sara standing there in her little lace teddy,
barefoot, her soft nutmeg-colored hair framing her pretty face. "Yeah, thass right, come
on in," he shouted sarcastically above the raucous din of the rap music…after Sara had
already breezed by him into the apartment. She walked straight to the stereo and yanked
the plug out of the wall. "Hey, watchu think you doin, bitch?" the shirtless man asked
with a gangsta-style flourish of his hands. "I hate that shit," Sara said. "The fuck?…You
some kinda racist bitch or somethin?" he asked getting in her face, his arms with huge
biceps folded over his rippling pecs. "Or something," Sara responded, staring him down
fearlessly, "I was trying to masturbate and youre disturbing me." "Damn! You a nasty
bitch! But hey momma, ah got the answer to yo problems right here," he laughed,
grabbing his package. "Call me a bitch once more and youll find out how nasty I can
be," Sara hissed. Towering over Sara with his face just inches from hers, he laughed, and
daringly exclaimed, "Bitch!" "Aaaaaiiiieee! Mutha fucka!" he screamed, staggering
backward holding his face, feeling like it was on fire, blood pouring between his fingers.
"Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!" he cried in a high-pitched voice. Sara looked at her bloody
long fingernails and felt a split-second of remorse, but then she felt that heaviness in her
loins, that tingle, that urge to be satisfied burrowing up from deep inside her. "So. You
think you have what I need, do you?" Sara said with a smirk, "Well, lets see." "Shit!
You done fucked up mah face! If yall think ah kin git it up now, then you crazy, ho!"
he screamed. "For your sake, lets hope youre wrong," Sara said, one hand on her
breast, the other unzipping his fly. "And by the way, ho is just as offensive to me as
bitch," she said making a quick slice with her nail on his meaty bicep. "Fuck! Ok!
Damn!" he cried. He brushed her hand away from his crotch and finished unzipping
himself. Sara looked at his face, fascinated by the long, deep gashes her nails had made.
She thought to herself how shed barely touched him, and imagined what the result would
be if she actually clawed someone full-force. The thought made her shudder…and get
wetter. The neighbor was down to his briefs by then, and Sara smirked approvingly at his
immense bulge. Proudly he worked his briefs down and his cock sprang free. Sara
sucked her lower lip between her teeth and began breathing rapidly through flaring
nostrils. "This yo first time with a brother?" he asked with swagger, and laughing
riotously, "Say yeah? Ok then, ah promise ah wont stick the whole thing in all at once
and…what the fuck?!" Suddenly he found himself on his back on his leather couch with
Sara fully impaled on his cock, pistoning like a jackhammer. He coughed from the huge
cloud of stuffing raised by Saras raking nails after shed clawed through the leather
upholstery. "Shit, bit---, uh, shit, baby, stop fuckin up mah new couch!" he complained.
"Are you sure thats what you want?" Sara asked. "Fuck yeah Im sho!" he screamed
staring at the gaping tears shed made. "Ok," she whispered, lifting her hands delicately,
still ramming herself on his cock. "Aiiiiiieeeee!" he yelled when she plunged her two-
and-a-half-inch long nails effortlessly to the hilt into his rock-hard pecs.
"Aahhhhaaaaahaaaaa," Sara laughed, raking them through his flesh. "Couch!" he gasped
high-pitched, "Fuck up the couch! Fuck up anything you want, jus not me!"
Sara jackhammered herself on her rap-loving downstairs neighbors cock, uttering a
staccato of ever-loudening chirps, soaring toward her climax. "Oooh, baby, ooooh,
momma, ooooohhhweeeeee!" he cried, "Aint never saw nobody could fuck like yall
befo!" Suddenly Sara let out a wild, animalistic cry, followed by a long, vocal exhale.
And then she casually stepped off her neighbor. "Fuck! Goddamn! Where the fuck you
goin? he screamed. "Home," Sara said fixing her touselled hair with her fingers. "Like
hell! I aint finished! Git yo little white ass on back here…bitch!" he cried. Sara forced
a saccharine smile and kneeled obligingly by the couch. Giving him a sexy stare she
placed her palm on the head of his raging-hard cock and gently rubbed his pee hole. "Oh,
fuck! Thass it, baby! Give it to me!" he groaned. "I will," she whispered. Then she
closed her fingers around his shaft, dug in her steel-like long fingernails and ripped them
quickly up and off the head. A fountain of crimson erupted, and he grabbed his bleeding
penis, screaming and writhing in agony. "I told you not to call me bitch," Sara said,
"But did you listen? No. Now look at you." She walked to the door and closed it behind
her, muffling his horrific screams.
The following day, Sara opened one eye reluctantly, expecting the worst. But to her
pleasant surprise, her nails had only grown another half an inch. The day after that, they
hadnt grown at all. Sara was happy her nails had stopped growing, but nonetheless she
could see it would be no easy task living the rest of her life with three-inch fingernails.
For one thing they attracted everyones attention, and not in a good way. The stares she
got, and the whispered remarks behind her back, made her even more self-conscious and
socially inhibited than shed been her entire life. So much so that she began having her
groceries delivered, and rarely ventured out. Sara also struggled to adapt to doing
normal, daily things with three-inch fingernails. She found it easier to use her nails
instead of other implements. She would puncture the top of a can with her thumbnail and
then, holding it in her other hand, turn the can in a circle letting her thumbnail slice
around the lid like a can opener. She would slice her nails through meat like it was
butter. She stabbed her food with her nails like a fork, and scooped things up with them
like a spoon. Since she never went out to eat, she didnt see any reason not to do what
came easiest. She spent much of her time at home masturbating to appease her
superhuman sexual urges, yet it seemed that every day she satisfied herself less and less.
She had no desire to fuck Mikhail or her downstairs neighbor again, even if they had
healed by now, and even though she knew she could easily force herself on them. The
tedium of her reclusive life was approaching the breaking point. She burned for a new
man, for a new conquest, for new flesh beneath her blade-sharp fingernails.
Reclined on her sofa nude, Sara gazed upon her three-inch fingernails, infatuated by their
impressive length and graceful curve and taper. Pondering them got her wet, gave her
that heaviness in her loins, that tingle. She fingered herself for what seemed like forever,
but couldnt bring herself to climax. Frustrated, she pulled her vibrator from her drawer,
but even that didnt bring her release. Panting hard, Sara threw open the door to her
closet, staring at the sexy clothes shed bought earlier but had never worn out of her little
studio apartment. She slipped her naked body into a short ruby-red spaghetti-strap
chiffon dress, wrapped a black cashmere scarf around her bare shoulders and hurried out
of her apartment. Sara covered her head with her scarf against the chill, her six-inch
stiletto heels punctuating the crisp night air with the echo of her step. And though she
walked with the urgency of someone wanting and needing something badly, she had no
doubt it was hers for the taking.
Instead of waiting at the bus stop near her apartment, Sara walked to the next stop. It
took her on the same route shed taken the night she was raped. Even though she had
become quite emboldened thanks to the ten long, razor-sharp indestructible weapons
growing from her fingertips, Sara felt that it was a symbolic act she needed to complete
in order to fully take back her life. As she approached the alleyway where her assailants
had dragged her, she heard what sounded like a scuffle. Coming nearer, Sara could make
out an occasional, muffled cry of a girl in distress, and the sound of men laughing. She
froze in her tracks, in a moment of terrifying deja-vu. Sara recognized the laughter from
her own attack. It was them, it was the same men who raped her. Fearlessly she stepped
into the alley, and she saw the men struggling with a young woman, trying to pin her
down. The girl was fighting valiantly, but Sara could see her starting to tire. Suddenly
one of the men turned around and saw Sara. "Hey man, looks like weve got company,"
he exclaimed, grabbing the second mans arm to alert him to Saras presence. He
prodded the third rapist, and then all three of them looked in Saras direction. She stood
like an ethereal silhouette lit by the street from behind, her shapely legs perched upon her
six-inch stilettos, the ends of her black shawl fluttering in the crisp breeze. "This is our
lucky night," the first man laughed, and then he said to Sara, "Yours too, baby…if you
dont put up a fight." The other two rapists elbowed each other and laughed. "Hold this
one," one of them said to the third, referring to the girl they had pinned, and the two men
approached Sara. She struck a defensive posture. One of the men whipped out a
switchblade. "Nobody has to get hurt," he said. "I beg to differ," she said quietly. He
took a swipe at Sara with the switchblade, meaning to terrify her into submission. But
she swiped with her nails…neatly severing three of his fingers and causing him to drop
the knife. "Shiiiiiiiiiiit!" he exclaimed. Sara laughed, "You think thats bad? Watch
this…" and with her three-inch diamond-hard fingernails, gutted him with a single
fearsome swipe across his midsection. "Fuuuuuucccckkk! Fuck! Fuck!
Fuuuuuuccccckkk!" he screamed, clutching his stomach and feeling his intestines
squishing through his fingers as he tried desperately to hold them in. Sara said, "Oh gee,
did I scratch you?" followed by a musical trail of self-satisfied laughter.
The second thug saw what had happened, and having no weapon on him, looked around
hurriedly for something with which to attack Sara. He spied a four-foot length of two-by
four lying on the ground, held it over his head and swung down at Sara. She put up her
hands and all her nails imbedded in the wood. The man laughed, "Hah! Gotcha, bitch!"
Sara grinned. She flexed her fingers and splintered the two-by-four into little pieces, to
the jaw-dropping shock of her attacker. Seeing what was happening, the third rapist back-
handed his young victim and she fell unconscious. He then charged up behind Sara and
grabbed her, pinning her arms to her sides. "Get her! Hit her!" he yelled, "Punch her in
the….aaaaaaiiiiiiieee!!!" Sara sank her nails into his thighs like a knife into hot butter,
and he let go of her. She pulled her nails out of him quickly, and held up her bloody
talons for him to admire while he writhed on the ground moaning and holding his
bleeding thighs. "Im quite familiar with human anatomy," she taunted arrogantly, "I
could easily have severed your femoral arteries. But then youd bleed out in seconds. I
much rather inflict wounds that dont kill quickly, but are nonetheless excruciatingly
painful…like him over there, trying to stuff his guts back inside," Sara said, pointing a
three-inch talon at the first rapist, doubled over on his knees, sobbing in agony, "Until
you to beg me on your knees to put you out of your misery." The second thug seized a
three-foot piece of rebar and charged at Sara swinging. She leaped several feet up against
the building, imbedding her three-inch fingernails like pietons in the brick, and his swing
missed her. Dropping to her feet with an avalanche of crumbled brick, Sara spun and
caught the rebar on the backswing. Her terrified attacker watched her cut the rebar in two
with a quick flick of her long thumbnail, and as it clattered to the ground she stabbed her
three-inch fingernails quickly in and out of him, just below his ribs. He cried out and
clamped his hand to the wound as he dropped to his knees. "The blood coming out of
you is almost black," Sara informed him referring to the dark-colored liquid oozing
between his fingers, "Thats bile. It means my long fingernails punctured your liver.
Which means, without emergency surgery you have about, oh, thirty minutes to live.
Forty tops."
Sara strolled over to the first rapist, the one whom she gutted. "I bet it really hurts," she
said bending over him while he writhed in agony. "I bet it hurts so much you wont even
feel this," she said, and with a quick slice of a single nail she whisked one of his ears off
cleanly. "Aaaaaiiiie!" he shrieked. "Hmm, I guess you did feel it," Sara grinned. The
wounded thug looked down at his ear lying in a puddle of blood on the pavement, and at
his intestines spilling through his fingers, and he whispered, "I c-c-cant take any m-
more!" "Oh but you shall," she said, and slowly drew a three-inch sharp fingernail across
his forehead. "Aaaagh!" he moaned. Sara squatted down in front of him and lifted his
chin harshly with her fingernails, their inhumanly-sharp tips puncturing his skin with
ease. "Look at me!" she commanded, forcing his watering, bloodshot eyes to focus on
her hateful countenance. "Take a good look, because its the last thing youll ever see,"
she said. "Y-youre gonna kill me, right?" he gasped. "Wrong," she smirked, poising a
three-inch fingernail in front of his left eye. "Nooooooo!" he cried. "Yes!" Sara laughed
as she advanced it slowly into his eyeball, and amidst his screams, pulled it out quickly
and held her finger up, so that with his right eye he could see his left now speared on her
three-inch nail. "By the way, I have really sharp fingernails," she remarked as if it
needed saying. Sara wiped his eyeball off her nail against the ground, leaving a deep
gouge in the concrete as she scratched. She poised her nail in front of his remaining eye
and as he whimpered and shook, advanced it slowly. But she stopped a hairs breadth
from his cornea. "Ill be back," she said, "So dont go away."
Sara surveyed the three men who had raped her, now all on the ground groaning and
crying in pain, torn apart by her three-inch fingernails which her formula had rendered
razor-sharp and indestructible. "Lets see, which one of you shall I concentrate on next?"
she asked rhetorically. But just then the sound of yelping police sirens began in the
distance and grew louder. "Shit! Just when I was starting to have some real fun," Sara
muttered. "Sorry boys, sounds like the cops are coming to bust-up our little party. I
guess its time to say good-night," she said. Sara stepped over to the gutted rapist and
drove her three-inch thumbnails all the way into both eye sockets. He convulsed and then
went dead limp. Not missing a beat she moved quickly to the second thug whom shed
stabbed in the liver, and with a swift sideways swish of her hand, slashed his throat so
forcefully with her three-inch talons that she nearly severed his head. The third attacker
tried crawling away, dragging his useless legs that Sara had sunk her nails in to the bone.
She grasped his head with her powerful, unbreakable three-inch fingernails and with only
a little squeeze, drove them into his skull and crushed it like an egg.
The sirens were getting very near, and Sara hurried to the young girl lying against the
brick wall. She was beginning to regain consciousness, and she looked up at Sara, trying
to focus. "Who are you?" the girl asked faintly. "Im your guardian angel," Sara said.
She spied the rapists switchblade lying nearby, in a pool of blood from his severed
fingers, and she picked it up and wrapped the girls fingers around the knifes bloody
handle. "What happened?" the girl asked holding her head. She dropped the knife, but
her prints were already on it. "You were attacked," Sara said, "But one of them dropped
his knife and you picked it up and fought them off. You killed them, but it was self-
defense. Youre a hero." "Wait!" the girl cried, but Sara was gone into the night.
Sirens whooped in syncopated disharmony, and a stream of police cars with flashing red
and blue lights sped by as Sara walked along the deserted street. An unmarked police
car with a small flashing light magnetized to the side of the roof screeched to a halt, and
two plainclothes detectives got out. The driver was older, perhaps mid-forties, about
five-ten and burly. The passenger was young, early thirties perhaps, over six feet with
an athletic build. "Hey, you!" the older one called brusquely. Sara went numb from a
surge of adrenaline. "Stop!" he ordered. "Youre terrifying her!" the younger one
scolded. The older cop shrugged off the scolding and barked at Sara, "Mind telling us
what youre doing here this time of night?" "Oh…ah…I fell asleep on the bus and
missed my stop, officer," Sara lied. The younger cop turned toward Sara and said in a
kindly way, "Excuse me, miss, what my partner meant to say is, this neighborhood is too
dangerous for a single young woman to be out walking at this hour." Sara had been so
preoccupied with getting away after maiming and killing her attackers that she hadnt
realized how sexually aroused she was. The heaviness in her loins was oppressive, and
she could feel the tingling in her pussy throughout her entire body. "How did you know
Im single?" she asked the young detective with an innocent but flirtatious flip of her
sexy-styled hair. "I…uh…I didnt mean single as in…" he blushed and flustered. His
older partner shook his head with disgust. "Let us give you a ride to the bus stop," he
said in his gruff manner. "Really, its okay," Sara said, waving him off. The detective
stopped suddenly in his tracks, and Sara realized shed shown him her hands, and he was
staring at her three-inch fingernails…which were still tinged with blood. The detectives
drew their guns and took a stance. "Freeze!" the older one shouted, "Up against the
building! Hands on your head!" Sara complied, and while the younger cop trained his
gun on her, the older detective roughly grabbed first one of her hands and then the other
and handcuffed her behind her back. "Want to tell us how you got that blood on your
hands?" he growled. "I want a lawyer," Sara said. "Now, that makes us very suspicious.
Im sure theres a good explanation, and if you tell us, you could be home in your bed
asleep in a few minutes," the detective said. "I want a lawyer," Sara repeated. "Have it
your way," he said shaking his head, and he put his hand on Saras head so she wouldnt
bump it as he pushed her into the back of the squad car. The two detectives got in front
and the older one started the car and put it in drive. As they drove off, Sara caught the
eye of the younger cop and held his gaze in a riveting stare. As she pondered his
handsome features, the ache between her legs was growing unbearable.
The two cops heard a little clink from the back seat and glanced at each other
inquisitively. "What was that?" the older cop asked. Sara stretched her arms, the broken
links of the handcuffs she had snapped with her powerful fingernails were dangling from
the bracelets on her wrists. "Those handcuffs were very uncomfortable," she said almost
apologetically as she slipped a nail under each bracelet in turn and snapped them off her
wrists. "Mother Mary!" the younger cop exclaimed. "I appreciate the lift, officers, but if
youll kindly pull over at the next corner, Ill be on my way," Sara said politely. The
older cop punched the gas, and the younger one drew his gun and pointed it at Sara
through the chain-link divider. "I really dont want to hurt you," she said looking into the
younger cops eyes, "In fact I was hoping you would ask me out." "D-dont move!" he
said fearfully, tightening his grip on his gun. Sara sighed, "Oh well, a girl can try." With
that she grasped the chain-link divider and with her nails tore it away as if it was a
cobweb. "Jesus! Shoot her, dammit!" the older cop barked as he sped through the streets.
Sara grabbed the gun and put her thumbnail in front of the barrel just as it fired. The
bullet ricocheted off her nail and smashed through the windshield. Startled, the young
detective dropped the gun, and while he bent down to retrieve it he heard his partner
scream. "Leave the gun down there," Sara said calmly, "Or I wont have any choice
except to kill your partner." The young cop sat up and saw that Sara had reached through
the ripped chain divider and held his partner by the throat. Blood was trickling from
where her nails were indented, and there were four gaping slashes on his cheek. "Please
stop the car," she said politely. "No way thats gonna happen," the older cop said.
"Please dont make me kill you. I really dont want to. I really, really, reeeeeaaaaly
dont," Sara pleaded, "Im not a bad person. I dont want to hurt innocent people. I dont
want to hurt a policeman. Just, please, stop the car." But the veteran detective had his
duty, and he kept driving. Sara sighed. "Im sorry. Forgive me," she said with tears in
her eyes. A quick flick of her thumb, the cop screamed, and blood began to pump out the
side of his neck. He lost consciousness quickly, and although the younger cop took the
wheel, he was unable to keep the cruiser from sideswiping a row of parked cars and
smashing into a lamp post. The young cop could see that his partner was dead, and he
and Sara both could smell gasoline. The young cop pounded his shoulder against the
door with all his strength but it wouldnt budge. Sara reached up and stuck her
fingernails through the steel roof, and she peeled it open as if it was made of paper. She
climbed out, but instead of running she crawled up on the battered hood and tore open the
roof over the passenger seat and reached in to pull the young cop out. He screamed as
Saras nails dug into his back and shoulders, but he managed with her help to crawl out of
the police car. "Run!" Sara exclaimed. "My leg is broken!" he cried when he tried to put
his weight on it. Sara put his arm over her shoulders and helped him hobble quickly
away and behind a parked car, just as the police cruiser exploded in a ball of fire. For a
moment Sara and the cop looked at each other. "I didnt want to hurt your partner!" Sara
insisted. "I know. If you did, you wouldve left me to die," the young detective said,
"But youre still under arrest." "I understand," she said solemnly, "Well then I guess
wed better hurry." "Hurry for what?" he asked. "To have sex," she replied. She
reached up and sank her nails into the steel car door and tore the handle out. "Get in!"
Sara ordered and began to shove him into the back seat. "Youre crazy!" he cried,
grimacing as he grabbed his broken leg. "Not yet, but I will be if I dont have sex soon,"
she panted, tearing his pants open with her nails. She crawled on top of him and kissed
him passionately. She sat up and pulled the straps of her dress off her shoulders and
uncovered her breasts. "Feel my boobies," she commanded, jutting out her chest. "Get
off me!" the young cop screamed. Sara scowled at him. "I need you to get hard. I could
jerk your dick, but I might accidentally slice it off with my nails. So feel my boobies and
give yourself a boner!" she insisted. Tentatively the young detective cupped Saras
breasts. "That feels good. You can see I like it," she said in a sultry voice, as her nipples
responded to his touch. She felt his cock begin to harden under her, and she grinned and
licked her lips. Sara raised her hips and impaled herself slowly on his erection. "Oh,
God! Yesssss!" she sighed. Sara began riding him, so fast and furiously that the car
shook and rolled. She raised a cloud of stuffing clawing the seat, her nails ripping
through the steel springs effortlessly. She reached up and pierced the cars roof with her
inhumanly-strong long fingernails, grasping the steel while she rode the young detective.
"I have to tell you that I have this enormous urge to scratch you," she said, "I want you to
know, in case I cant control it, that I really like you and I didnt mean to hurt you." The
cop looked up at her three-inch nails hooked through the quarter-inch sheet metal as
though it was paper, and he quaked with terror. In the distance they could hear sirens
approaching, no doubt someone had called in the explosion. The sirens grew louder.
"Theyll be coming in a minute!" the young police detective pleaded. "Ill be cumming
in thirty seconds," Sara laughed. She pumped like a locomotive racing against time.
"Grab my arms!" she panted. "Huh?" he asked. "I said Grab my arms!" Sara repeated,
"I dont want to hurt you when I cum." The young cop grabbed her wrists, but Sara
cried, "Not there! Grab them closer to my elbows. I can still reach your hands with my
nails if youre holding my wrists! I could still slice your fingers off!" He quickly got a
new hold, and Sara smiled. She closed her eyes and rode him like a bull, moaning and
screaming as she climaxed. As soon as shed cum, Sara said, "You can let go of me now.
Its safe, Im done." "I cant do that," he said dutifully, "Youre under arrest." The
young detective squeezed Saras arms hard, intent upon holding her until backup arrived.
"I respect you," Sara whispered, "I wont try to escape." She leaned down and gave him
a fiery-hot kiss, and then she began rolling her hips around and around, and up and down
slowly. "Fucking mother of God!" he moaned. Sara whispered in his ear, "I really like
you. I want you to cum inside me." The young cop came in a volcanic eruption of bliss.
Gasping for breath, he smiled and let go of her arms. "God damn! Youre the hottest girl
Ive ever met!" he panted. "Too bad Im going to prison and well never be able to do
this again," she said with a forlorn shake of her head. The young detective bit his lip and
sighed deeply. "Go on, get out of here." he said. "Really? You mean it?" Sara asked.
"Quick, before I change my mind!" he replied. "Thank you, thank you so much," she
said, and with a graceful flourish of her unbelievably-long fingernails Sara hopped off
him and got out of the car. She turned back momentarily. "Wait, whats your name?"
Sara asked. "Detective Murphy. Danny," he answered. She leaned into the car and
pressed a nail to his muscular chest. "Im Sara," she said as she flicked her finger and
sliced a long gash across his torso. "Aaaagh!" he cried. "Its not that deep," she said,
"Just enough to need stitches and leave a scar. I dont want you forgetting me." "I
wouldnt have!" he cried, holding his hands over the wound. "Guys always say that," she
lamented, "This way Im certain." "How will I find you?" he asked sincerely. "Nice try,
detective," Sara laughed, "Ill find you." And with that she vanished into the shadows.
The night air was alive with the sound of sirens, and Sara ducked into the first dark
entryway she came to. Her heart racing, she crouched in the shadows. When she looked
up, she saw she was at a sex shop. Inside the darkened showcase window there was a
display of various S&M gear, and her eye fell upon a mannequin dressed in a skin-tight
tiger-striped outfit comprised of a bustier and mini-skirt. Covering the mannequins head
and eyes was a tiger-striped cowl with pointed cat-ears and sinisterly-feline slanted eye
openings. Nearby Sara spied a pair of black patent-leather platform sandals with six-inch
shiny steel stiletto heels. The sirens had died down in the distance, and Sara stood up.
With an ear-splitting screech she scribed a large circle on the window with one of her
indestructible three-inch fingernails, and then gave the glass a soft tap. The circular piece
fell inward, and Sara grabbed the tiger-striped outfit and sandals, and stealthily made her
way back to her little studio apartment.
Sara removed her blood-soaked clothing and stood under the hot shower scrubbing and
rinsing herself clean. Wrapped in a towel, she put her bloody clothes in a metal
wastebasket, doused it with vodka, and set it ablaze out on the fire escape that faced an
alley. Then she donned the tiger-striped bustier and mini-skirt and slipped the cowl over
her head and eyes. She wiped the steam off the full-length mirror behind her bathroom
door and looked at herself. Sara straightened her little cats ears and adjusted her nutmeg
hair that flowed out from under the mask and fell softly around her bare shoulders. She
smoothed her taut, flat stomach, put her hands on her hips, and took a determined stance.
Sara flexed her fingers with razor-sharp, indestructible three-inch fingernails, and
breathed a deep sigh of satisfaction at her image in the mirror, an image of supreme feline
feminine sexuality and danger. She stepped into the black patent-leather platform sandals
and watched herself rise majestically on six-inch steel stiletto heels. Seeing herself in
that outfit, with her staggeringly-long, lethal fingernails, any remaining vestiges of the
self-doubting, self-deprecating victim she once was vanished. Sara Dowd, meek lab-rat,
ceased to exist, and in her place stood a fearless, marauding jungle cat. Posturing proudly
in the mirror, she announced, "Male swine of this city, cower in terror of the Tigress!"
She curved her fingers menacingly and making a savage downthrust with her long
fingernails she hissed, "Know that you shall die by the wrath of my invincible claws!"
Sara hugged herself and laughed with self-satisfaction. She treated herself to one more
long, admiring gaze in the mirror, from her tiger-masked head down to her toes perched
in those sexy black sandals. "Hmm…" she said, "Something is missing." An
enlightened smile crossed her face. Steel stiletto heels crunching into the wood floor of
her little studio apartment, Sara paced to her sofa-bed and sat down. She opened the
drawer of her end-table and took out the little bottle of her formula and began carefully
painting her toenails.
II.
Days later Sara was in her bathrobe relaxing on her sofa, watching TV. "Just in: A News
12 exclusive!" the perky young woman with model-looks read from her teleprompter, "A
twenty-six year-old woman identified as Mary Little died early this morning after having
been found severely beaten behind McDuffs Tavern on West 66th Street where she
worked nights as a bartender. Waste pickup workers heard the injured womans faint
cries and summoned paramedics who rushed her to St. Marys hospital where despite the
valiant efforts of doctors to save her, she died without regaining consciousness.. Police
arrested her estranged boyfriend, Edgar Dale Jackson, and charged him with first-degree
murder, but News 12 has learned that a judge has refused to arraign Mr. Jackson due to a
technicality. A source speaking under the guarantee of anonymity, expressed fear for the
safety of the seven year-old daughter Jackson and Ms Little have together. The girl is
currently in the care of Family Services but must be released into the custody of her
father later today. Jackson has a long arrest record and a history of substance abuse and
domestic violence. In other news, the police commissioner has approved the purchase of
an additional one-hundred new high-tech radar speed guns…"
It was just past midnight, and Edgar Dale Jackson slouched on his tattered sofa with his
feet up on the scuffed top of a beaten coffee table, watching extreme martial arts fighting
on TV. Empty beer bottles littered the filthy room, and cigarette smoke hung in the air
like a suffocating gray cloud. A butane torch lay next to a glass pipe and a small ashtray
with several small crystalline rocks. "When are we gonna have dinner?" a girls tiny
voice asked sweetly. "Shut up! Youll eat when I say so!" Jackson growled. "Im
hungry. I havent eaten since breakfast," the little girl whined. She was a beautiful little
girl, very small, with wondrous blue eyes and long hair like spun gold. "What are you,
some kinda fucking retard? Dont you understand what shut up means?" Jackson barked.
The little girls lip quivered and she began to cry softly. "Stop that goddamn crying you
little shit, or Ill give you a smack across your ugly face!" Jackson bellowed. "Fuck!" he
shouted, "I cant wait for the day I can turn you out and make some real bread off you,
you little bitch." Suddenly there was a hollow knock on the metal front door. Jackson
scurried to hide his crack paraphernalia. The knock came again. "Get lost!" he shouted.
"I think youll want to let me in once you see me, Edgar," came a soft, sultry female
voice from beyond the door. Intrigued, Jackson cautiously opened the door. There in the
dingy hallway stood a young woman on spike heels, wearing a scanty outfit with little cat
ears.
"Damn, is it Halloween?" Jackson said sarcastically. "Trick or treat," she said in a
breathy, sexy voice. "How much for a trick?" he asked, sporting an arrogant grin of
stained and crooked teeth. Behind her mask her eyes grew narrow. "My treat," she said
with wicked irony, her hand flashed at him and a single razor-sharp fingernail left a long
gash along the side of his unshaven face. "Fuck!" Jackson howled and he stumbled back
slamming the door at her. "Thats not very hospitable of you Edgar," she said knocking,
"I came all the way here to see you and you wont even invite me in?" "Get the fuck outa
here you crazy cunt!" Jackson yelled, holding his bleeding cheek. "I guess Ill just have
to let myself in then," she said. There was a loud, hollow bang and Jackson froze in
shocked disbelief when he saw ten long fingernails pierce through the metal door, and
then rip it open as if it had been made of tinfoil. Gamely she stepped into the room and
stood with her hands on her hips. Thats when he saw her clearly for the first time in the
light. Dressed in nothing but a tiger-striped bustier and mini-skirt, her eyes masked
behind a tiger-striped cowl. He stared at her bare midriff, her alarming three-inch
fingernails posed aggressively on her hips in an aggressive yet feminine stance. He glanced
down her sexy bare legs to her feet, where her toenails projected a terrifying two inches
past the front of her black patent-leather six-inch steel-stiletto-heeled platform sandals.
Visibly shaken, he cried, "W-who the f-fuck are you? WHAT the fuck are you?!!" She
folded her arms and flexed her fingers with their deadly three-inch fingernails. "Who I
am, is Tigress," she said, and then softly but ominously, "And what I am, is the
nightmare you wont wake up from."
"Fuck you, cunt!" he grunted, and he grabbed a baseball bat from beside the door. He
swung the bat with all his might, felt a solid hit and heard a melodious ping, such as one
would expect if one hit a fast-ball squarely with the sweet spot. For a split second he
grinned, but it vanished when he saw he was holding half a bat…the other half was in her
hand. With a wicked smirk she closed her fingers and crushed the hunk of bat with her
indestructible long fingernails, and let the splinters fall to the floor. She glanced across
the room and noticed the little girl, who had a terrified look on her sweet, innocent face.
"Sweetie, your daddy and I need to have a grownup talk. Ok?" Tigress said with an
authoritative yet reassuring voice, "I need you to go in the bedroom, close the door, and
hold the pillow really tight over your ears. No matter what, dont open the door until I
knock. Then well get something to eat. Promise me!" "I promise. Im really hungry,"
the little girl said and she scampered to the bedroom and closed the door behind her.
Jackson took advantage of the momentary distraction to dash for the kitchen, where he
grabbed a meat cleaver and swung at her. She deflected the blow with her nails, and to
Jackson it felt like he had hit solid steel, so strong was the shock that traveled up his arm,
and he dropped the cleaver. "Oh come on Edgar, you can do better than that!" she
taunted him. He picked up a ten-inch butcher knife and lunged at her. Tigress grabbed
the blade in her nails, and before she snapped it in half, she lashed out with her foot and
split his kneecap with her inhumanly-sharp two-inch long toenails. "I can see you get a
kick out of me," she smiled as she twisted and pulled her toenails free.
"Aaaaaaaaggggghhhhh!!" he bellowed, falling on the ground holding his knee which was
pouring blood. "Shhh," Tigress whispered, "Keep it down! You dont want to frighten
your little daughter. Oh, silly me. Of course you do. I forgot, you get off abusing
women. Believe me, I understand…I get off abusing men! But I dont want to scare her.
So that means Im going to have to finish you quickly. Thats such a bummer, because
Id really love to spend all night killing you slowly, a piece at a time, scratch by delicious
scratch."
Jackson crawled to a beat-up cabinet and yanked a drawer out, and he came up holding a
pistol. But his fingers were slippery with his blood and the gun fell from his hand.
"Butterfingers!" Tigress laughed, striding over, crunching the floor with the sharp steel
tips of her stiletto heels. As Jackson reached for the gun, Tigress stomped on his hand
impaling it to the floor with her heel. "Aaiiiieeeeee fuuuuccccckk!" he screamed. "Tsk,
what did I tell you about being quiet?" she said kicking away the gun. Jackson screamed
again as she stepped with her other foot to hold his hand down while she extracted her
pointed steel heel. "Get up!" she ordered, digging her three-inch fingernails under his
arms to lift him. "Ive decided to give you a fighting chance," she said flexing her
fingers with their terrifying three-inch fingernails, "Mano a mano." Jackson clenched his
teeth and balled his fist. "Thats it! Just like you beat your little girls mother to death.
Come on, Edgar, lets see what youve got," Tigress taunted. Jackson swung wildly, she
ducked…and she slashed her steel-sharp fingernails swiftly across his torso diagonally
from his left shoulder to his right hip. He cried out in pain and gasped at the long, open
wounds gushing blood. Desperately, he tried to kick her, but Tigress caught his ankle
with one hand, and with the other she closed her three-inch fingernails into his thigh to
the bone and clawed slowly to his knee. Before she let go, Tigress kicked him in the
groin with her two-inch toenails. Jackson puked, and fell to his knees holding his
bleeding crotch and screaming. "Being a crybaby is really unattractive in a man," she
said, "Even a cowardly woman-abuser like you." Tigress held Jackson up by his chin
and looked him in the eye. "Youre a bastard, Edgar," she said contemptuously.
Suddenly she drove her nails deep into his chest, yanked her hand out in a spurt of blood
and held it up for him to see the pulsating mass clutched in her talons. "A heartless
bastard," she smirked. Tigress let go of him and let him slump to the ground with his eyes
open and his face frozen in a death-mask of terror.
She opened the door to the bedroom to find the little golden-haired girl cowering ashen
and trembling in the far corner next to the filthy bed. The little girl stared up with terror
in her huge blue eyes and did not move. Tigress approached closer, and the little girl
ducked her face and began to cry. Crouching, she said softly, "Im Tigress. Whats your
name?" The little girl looked up again and wiped her eyes. "Sunny," she said. "Thats
such a pretty name," Tigress said smiling. "Tigress is a cool name," Sunny said with a
tentative smile. "Thank you," she said. "You have reaaaaaaly long nails!" Sunny
exclaimed. Tigress flexed her fingers and wiggled her toes. "Yes I do," she replied.
"Can I touch them?" Sunny asked. "Sure. But be careful, because theyre very
sharp…like knives. Dont touch the edges or youll cut yourself." Sunny very carefully
stroked the back of Tigress toenails, and then her fingernails, with open-mouthed
wonder. "How long did it take you to grow them?" Sunny asked. "Oh, about a week,"
Tigress answered. "A week?!" Sunny gasped, "My nails only grow a tiny bit in a week!
How come yours grow so fast?" "Its a long story," Tigress said, "Come on, lets go get
you something to eat and Ill tell you all about it." Sunny got up and started for the
bedroom door. Not wanting the little girl to see the carnage, Tigress said pertly, "Lets
go out the window and down the fire escape, like an adventure!" "Hell be mad, and
hell hit me," Sunny said, tellingly not referring to Edgar as her father. "He wont, that I
promise," Tigress said solemnly, helping Sunny over the sill. Once they were on the
ground in the alley, Sunny turned to Tigress and said quite straightforwardly, "You killed
him, didnt you." Tigress bit her lip and took a deep breath. "Yes, I did," she answered.
Sunny showed no emotion at the news her father was dead. "He killed my mommy," she
said with a smoldering rage no seven year-old should possess. "I know, sweetie," Tigress
said. "Are you going to kill me?" Sunny asked with a disturbing calmness. "Of course
not!" Tigress answered with surprise, "I only kill bad guys."
They walked quickly, Tigress masked eyes ever-alert. There was a chill in the night air,
and Sunny was shivering. Tigress spotted a man in a leather jacket standing against a
black SUV tricked-out with large chrome-plated rims. "The little girl is cold. Be a
gentleman and give her your coat," Tigress ordered unceremoniously. The man lit a
cigarette and laughed, "Yeah, right." Tigress raised her hands with talons poised
menacingly, hissed at him, and warned, "Dont make me tell you again." Again the man
just laughed, and he said, "This a five-hundred dolla jacket, bitch! I aint givin it up.
So get yo ho hands out mah face befo ah kick yo goddamn ass!" Tigress shrugged,
but instead of turning to walk away she swung her hand down on the SUVs hood,
imbedded her invulnerable three-inch fingernails, and tore the heavy sheet metal like foil.
"Still want to fight me…over a coat?" she asked. "Damn! Here, take it!" he gasped as he
quickly took his jacket off and put it around Sunnys shoulders. "Woah! That was cool!"
Sunny exclaimed, "I want long nails like you!" Tigress smiled and stroked the little girls
silky golden hair. Suddenly a police car with flashing lights appeared at the end of the
alley, and a uniformed officer bounded out with his night-stick in hand, shouting, "You
there! Stop!" Tigress turned in his direction, hissing and poising her three-inch
fingernails at the ready. "No! You cant!" Sunny cried, "You said you only kill bad
guys!" Tigress took a deep breath, and she squatted down. "Quick! Put your arms
around my neck and your legs around my waist!" she ordered. "You mean piggyback?"
Sunny asked. "Yes. Now do it! And hold on with all your might no matter what!"
Tigress said. With Sunny clinging on her back, Tigress leaped up against the building
and began scampering up the wall using her incredible long fingernails and toenails.
"Dont look down," Tigress said over her shoulder. "Im not scared," Sunny responded
calmly. "No I dont guess you would be," Tigress said with a smile as she left the
policeman crouching in the alley ducking the hail of brick chips raining down on his head,
as she and her passenger quickly ascended the building to the rooftop and
disappeared into the night.
Tigress began to be aware of that all-too-familiar heaviness in her loins that seemed to
follow inevitably after shed used her nails on someone. With each passing moment her
need for sexual release grew stronger. "Do you have any relatives? A grandmother or
an aunt maybe? Somewhere I can drop you off?" she asked Sunny. Sunny shook her
head. Tigress said, "Oh. Well, theres a battered-womans shelter about four blocks
from here. Theyll feed you and give you a bed, and in the morning theyll see to it
you…" "No! Theyll put me in foster care. Ive been there before. I wont go back,"
Sunny said, her enormous blue eyes beginning to well-up with tears. "What can I do
about it? Thats the law," Tigress said. "I could come live with you. I promise Ill be
quiet. You wont even know Im there," Sunny pleaded. "I cant, sweetie. First of all I
have a one-room apartment. Second of all, you need school and friends and a family,"
Tigress said. "Ill sleep in the bathroom. Ive done it before, lots. And youre really
smart, you can teach me everything I need to know. And you can be my friend…and we
can be a family," Sunny pleaded. "It just wouldnt work," Tigress sighed. Sunny looked
down with resignation. "Its ok. Thanks for rescuing me, and thanks for getting me the
jacket," she said beginning to walk away. "I cant just let you wander the streets alone,"
Tigress said. "Ill be ok," Sunny said bravely. "Yes you will. Come on," Tigress said.
"Where are we going?" Sunny asked. "Home," Tigress said cuddling the little girl close
to her side as they continued on.
Tigress quickened their pace, because the tingling in her pussy had begun to reverberate
throughout her entire body, and she knew she had to get Sunny home, fed, and put to bed
before she could go back out in search of a man to satisfy her inhuman desires. She took
Sunny up the fire escape stealthily to her apartment, so no one would see her bringing the
little girl. "If anyone sees you, youre my niece, understand?" she said to Sunny. "Dont
worry, I know how to keep a story straight," the girl answered. Tigress smiled, but inside
she felt devastated that this sweet little girl was already so hardened by lifes cruelties.
She warmed up pizza and made hot cocoa for Sunny, and then she opened the sofa bed
and tucked her in. "Are you going out to kill someone else, Tigress?" Sunny asked as
Tigress turned for the door. She stopped and came back, and she kneeled by the bed.
She stroked Sunnys face, being super-careful to avoid touching the girls delicate skin
with her razor-sharp fingernails. "Im not going to kill anyone," she said, and removed
her masked cowl, "My name is Sara, and Im basically a good person." "Goodnight, aunt
Sara," Sunny whispered.
Detective Danny Murphy awoke with a horrific start at the sound of a crash and a hail of
shattered glass. His eyes tried to focus on the sinewy figure silhouetted against his
broken window, and he grabbed for his gun on the nightstand. "Ow!" he screamed at the
sudden sharp pain in his hand as the intruder whisked the gun away. "Do you always
want to shoot girls who find you attractive?" Tigress asked sarcastically, trying as gently
as she could to extract her long fingernail from his hand. "You!" Murphy cried. "None
other," she smiled. "Whats with the get-up?" he asked referring to her tiger-stripe
bustier, mini-skirt, and mask. "I promise Ill tell you all about it, after we fuck," she said,
roughly pushing him on his back and straddling him with her hands splayed on his chest.
"Nice," she said, referring to the long diagonal scar shed left him the first time. Murphy
recalled how much it had hurt when she sliced him with her fingernail. He also recalled
how incredible the sex had been, and even as he nursed his throbbing, bleeding hand he
felt his dick begin to harden. Tigress felt it too, and uttered a long, blissful moan as she
lowered her pussy onto his staff. She had had to wait far too long, and her pent-up sexual
desire was overflowing like a flooding river. She prayed that in her ecstasy she wouldnt
claw him to death with her talons, and she grabbed the iron headboard and began to pump
and grind.
Danny Murphy felt as though an earthquake was demolishing his apartment building.
The old iron bed clanged and clattered, pounded the floor and banged against the wall
with an urgent, driving rhythm. The sound of ripping cloth and crumbling plaster along
with Tigress screaming and moaning drowned-out his own grunts and groans, and he
coughed from the blizzard of mattress stuffing and powdered drywall that rained down on
him from above. Suddenly Tigress let out a long, wailing primal scream and fell limp on
top of him, heaving and gasping for breath. Murphy opened his eyes cautiously. Dust
was still settling around him, and he blinked to clear his vision. He glanced to his sides
and saw the twisted, severed springs of what had been his mattress protruding from the
shredded ticking. Glancing up he saw through the gaping hole in his wall, splintered
remains of several two-by-four joists hanging loosely from the uprights. And the inch-
thick iron rails of his headboard were torn through as though they had been cut with an
acetylene torch. Following his initial shock at the mayhem Tigress had wrought with her
inexplicably strong, sharp three-inch fingernails, Detective Murphy realized that
neighbors above, below and behind his apartment were pounding and shouting, "Shut up,
its three in the morning!" And, he realized that he had not cum. Tigress got up,
crunching the rubble of drywall and the broken window under her steel-tipped stiletto
sandals. Murphy sat up in bed, unable to get out because the bed was surrounded by
broken glass. He glanced back and saw the outline of his body on the bed, surrounded
like a castle moat by the rips shed made. And he also saw that the sheets under where
hed lay were bloodstained. "I think I might have nicked you a couple times. I didnt
mean to," Tigress said, at which point Murphy began to notice a throbbing, burning
sensation on his back. He put a hand over his shoulder and felt his back, and when he
looked his palm was red with his blood. "Im really sorry," she said.
"Youre not leaving?!" Murphy said with incredulity. "I thought youd want me to," she
said. "I didnt finish," he said. Tigress turned and sat on the bed. "Scoot over," she said.
She slipped her spike-heeled sandals off and lay next to him. Murphys eyes went wide
when he glanced at her feet with two-inch toenails. "Those are new since I saw you last
time. You like?" she asked, lifting her leg and spreading her toes. "I…I…," he
stammered, still in shock from the sight of her taloned feet. She reached to stroke his hair.
Murphy reeled. "Im not going to hurt you, I promise," she said sounding hurt. "Why
dont I believe you?" he asked sarcastically. "Maybe its the mask?" she asked and took
it off, "There. Is that better?" "Youre very pretty," he said. She brought her lips to his,
and after a lingering kiss, she whispered in his ear, "My name is Sara. And Id like you
to make love to me." "Ok," he said, awestruck by her transformation from animalistic to
tender. Sara slid herself under him and spread her legs for him to enter her. She
embraced him gently, holding his shoulders being careful of her razor-sharp three-inch
nails. They kissed again and again. Sara closed her eyes and wrapped her legs around
him as she surrendered to the rhythm of his pumping hips. Suddenly she was brought to
her senses by him grunting, "Aaaagh! Stop! Stop!" through clenched teeth, and she
realized she had her sharp toenails pressed into the back of his calves. "Sorry! Sorry!"
she gasped, quickly lifting her feet. "Jesus!" he groaned. "Please dont stop, I didnt get
you that bad," Sara lied, looking up at the crimson glistening on her two-inch toenails.
Murphy resumed screwing her, and Sara moaned softly. In a while she began to meet his
pumping with her own, and her moaning quickened and became louder. Murphy looked
at her apprehensively and said, "You can control yourself, right? I mean, youre not
going to suddenly…" "Ive got it," she assured him, and he calmed down. "That is, I
think Ive got it," she said quickly. Murphy went numb with fear. "Dont think!" he
exclaimed, "You can either control it or you cant. Which is it?" "Cant!" she gasped
just before she narrowed her eyes and a deep growl replaced her soft moans. In a split-
second she grasped him with her fingernails and toenails and while he let out a scream
she flipped him on his back and with a thunderous primal yell she grabbed the broken
iron headboard and began to ride him like a hurricane. After they both came like a
torrent they lay silently next to each other for a few minutes while they caught their
breaths. "Im really sorry, Danny," she wept softly, "I cant help myself. Believe me, I
hate not being able to just make sweet love with you. I want a normal relationship with
you. I really do." Murphy rolled on his side and blotted her tears with the back of his
fingers. "Dont cry. Well make it work," he said. She smiled and hugged him, and
while they kissed he ignored the uncomfortable prick of her fingernails against his back.
Ringing broke their tender silence. Detective Murphy reached for his cell. "Cant you let
it ring?" Sara pleaded. "At this hour, it has to be the job. Has to be something
important," he said, "I have to get it." Murphy flipped the phone open. "This is
Murphy…" he answered, "What! When?" Sara began to tease his cock with her fingers.
"Ok, Im on it now," he said into the phone before closing it. "Mind if we do it again?"
Sara asked playfully. Murphy grabbed her wrist and lifted her hand. "Whats the
matter?" she asked. "That was my lieutenant. Theres been a homicide and he wants me
on the scene now," Murphy said. "Why does it have to be you?" Sara asked with a pout.
"Because the vic was my collar. Had him for beating his wife to death but the judge
threw it out," Murphy related. "Thats too bad," she commiserated. "The lieutenant said
the guy looked like hed been mauled by a lion," Murphy said, and with a raised
eyebrow, "Or a tigress…" "What does it matter? Justice was served, wasnt it," she
mused. "Thats not how the system works!" he exclaimed. "Seems to me like the system
doesnt work," she countered. "Its not up to you. This is the real world, not a comic
book or the movies. You cant just go around playing vigilante!" he yelled. "So then
arrest me," she said with an arc of her sultry eyebrow, holding her sharp-clawed hands
out as if waiting to be handcuffed. Recognizing that she could easily snap his handcuffs
with her nails he asked, "Will you come quietly?" "I wont make a sound," she replied
flexing her taloned fingers, "You however..." "I dont believe youd kill me," he said.
"Maybe. Then again, if I can hardly keep from scratching you when were making love,
just imagine if I was pissed at you," she said with a wink, whisking her deadly three-inch
fingernails quickly in front of his face. Murphy sighed, "What am I going to do with
you?" "For starters how about kissing me?" she said running her nails feather-softly over
his chest giving him goosebumps and a shiver. Murphy shook himself to focus, and
brushed her hands aside. "Tell me what you did with the little girl!" he demanded
intently. "Nothing! My God, do you think I would hurt a child?" Sara responded with
anger and hurt. "Where is she?" Murphy asked. "Safe," Sara answered. "Shes a ward
of the court now, thanks to you," Murphy barked. "Thanks to me shes safe and sound
and not hungry," Sara said, "Her scumbag crack-head biological father hadnt fed her all
day. He was planning to turn her out as a prostitute, I heard him say so." "The law says
she belongs with Family Services," Detective Murphy said. "She belongs with me," Sara
said defiantly "With you? A vigilante who runs around in tiger-striped underwear and a
mask, ripping guys apart with her nails? What kind of life is that for a kid?" Murphy
remarked. "A better one than she would have in foster care," Sara said, putting her steel-
tipped stiletto sandals on her clawed feet. "One of these days youre gonna get yourself
killed. Then whats gonna happen to the kid, huh?" Murphy shouted as Sara put her
mask back on. "Dont concern yourself, detective," Tigress retorted dismissively. "What
about me, if you get yourself killed?" he asked in a hushed voice. "You?" she asked with
surprise. "Yeah, me. What if I love you?" he said with the strained effort of a man not
given to saying the L-word easily. She turned to face him and grazed his chest quickly
with her nails. "What the hell did you do that for?" he gasped, watching as the scratches
bled. "Love hurts," she said with a sexy wink, and quickly climbed out the window.
III.
In the weeks to follow, a procession of corpses filled the city morgue to capacity, all
suffering the same kind of fatal lacerations and stab wounds. Pimps, rapists, pedophiles,
wife-beaters, gangbangers…all with the same commonality: abuse of women.
Eyewitness reports of the escapades of the sexy, masked woman in the scanty tiger
costume took the lead on every news broadcast and covered the front page of all the
newspapers. Stories of her prowess grew to legendary proportion, fueled by
sensationalist accounts in the tabloids. Eyewitness reports piled up on the desk of every
homicide detective in every precinct, including Detective Danny Murphy, who had not
seen Tigress since the night he told her he loved her. Several gang leaders had put a
$100,000 bounty on Tigress. All of the citys scumbags were terrified and armed, a
combination that could only spell catastrophe, and an endless nightmare for the police.
The police commissioner had issued an order to the entire force not to risk their lives
trying to apprehend her, but instead to shoot her on sight. Danny Murphys worst fears
were coming true. He felt certain it was only a matter of time before Tigress sinewy,
feline body would grace a slab at the morgue.
It was three-thirty in the morning, and Tigress prowled the rooftops looking and listening
intently, when she heard the crackle and thunder of motorcycles, and a womans terrified
screams. Sliding down from the roof along a drain spout, her incredibly strong, long
fingernails and toenails tore through the metal pipe slowing her descent and made an ear-
splitting noise that startled the members of the motorcycle gang and made them hold their
ears. Her steel-tipped stiletto sandals made a sharp crack as she landed on the pavement
with both feet at once. One of the thugs revved his low-rider Harley and sped toward
Tigress. She ducked to one side and as the bike passed her she thrust her nails into the
spinning spokes of the front wheel and the bike slid down the alley on its side with a
screeching rainbow of sparks, carrying its hapless rider with it until it crashed into a
parked car and exploded. "Kill her!" a bearded, bandana-wearing hulk of a man
bellowed, and he rushed at tigress swinging a chain. He swung it at Tigress and she put
her hand up to deflect it. The chain hit her nails and shattered into pieces that bounced
back into the big mans face like shrapnel. He let out a powerful scream and although his
face was bloodied, he advanced toward tigress, and as he did he pulled a pair of nickel-
plated hog-leg Colt .45s, one in each hand. "Die you fucking freak bitch!" he growled.
Tigress grabbed the barrel of both guns with each hand. She flicked her pinkie and the
huge biker screamed as he watched his severed trigger finger hit the ground. As he pulled
the trigger on his other gun, Tigress slipped her thumbnail in front of the barrel. With
full muzzle velocity the big-bore slug hit Tigress thumbnail and sped back up the barrel,
causing the gun to explode backward. For a second the big man just stood there gaping at
where his arm used to be, and then he fell over dead. Stepping over his body, Tigress
faced off against the remaining two bikers, who were armed with machetes. Both knives
swished through the air at her. Both knives broke in half upon impact with her
fingernails. Tigress grabbed both men by an arm, and one at a time she kicked their legs.
Her two-inch toenails pierced their heavy leather boots like paper, and she raked down
swiftly, tearing leather and flesh together. One biker fell to the ground, and Tigress
quickly dispatched him with a steel-tipped stiletto through the eye. The other she toyed
with, holding him up by one arm while she slashed him repeatedly with her unholy-sharp
three-inch fingernails until his screams stopped, and then she let him fall to the pavement,
dead. Tigress stepped over to the woman who had been screaming. "Its ok, they cant
hurt you anymore," she said comfortingly, reaching to help the woman up off the ground.
"You fucking bitch!" the woman screamed. "What?" Tigress said, startled. "You killed
my man!" the woman shrieked, and there was a loud pop. Tigress just stood there,
shaking her head in shock, unable to say anything for a moment, staring at the little .25
automatic in the biker-babes hand. She felt a burning in her thigh, and she reached down
to touch where it hurt. When she raised her hand, it was covered with blood. "Ill
fucking kill you!" the woman screamed, pointing the gun at Tigress, but Tigress raked the
womans wrist with her two-inch toenails and the biker-babe let out a blood-curdling
scream and dropped the gun while she clutched at her nearly-severed hand. Tigress
grabbed a bandana off one of the dead bikers, tied it around her bleeding thigh and
limped off quickly down the alley, choking back her tears…tears of regret for having had
to use her nails against a woman.
Her thigh was throbbing badly, and the bandana was soaked with her blood. Through her
knowledge of anatomy she knew the bullet had not nicked an artery, but also that she had
to get the bleeding stopped soon or she would pass out. Tigress couldnt go to a hospital
because they would surely call the police, and the last thing she wanted was the blood of
innocent people on her hands having to claw her way to freedom. She felt desperation. It
would be dawn soon and she had to get off the streets before it was light. She
remembered the little girl sleeping back at her place, who would awaken to an empty
apartment and wonder if shed been abandoned yet again. To make matters worse, the
rush of slashing all those malevolent bikers with her deadly nails had Tigress feeling that
familiar overwhelming desire for sex. She needed Danny, but Sunny needed her. The
mere sight of her miraculous fingernails and toenails disgusted her now, because they
were what held her prisoner in her bizarre and lonely life.
Suddenly Tigress spotted an EMS truck parked behind an all-night diner. As quickly as
she could, she hobbled to the truck and carefully peered inside the cab. It was empty, the
paramedics were probably inside the diner. Weak and faint, Tigress moved to the rear
and, summoning a burst of strength, plowed her indestructible three-inch fingernails into
the rear doors of the EMS truck and tore the heavy sheet-metal away like tinfoil. The car
alarm siren began an ear-shattering whooping. "Shit!" Tigress cursed as she frantically
rummaged through the medical supplies. "Hey, what the fuck!" a mans voice yelled.
Tigress turned quickly, and there were the two paramedics, a man and a woman, staring
with disbelief at the ripped doors of their truck, and the beautiful woman inside wearing a
scanty tiger-striped mini-skirt and bustier, and a mask with little cats ears. "Oh my God,
its her!" the male paramedic exclaimed, shutting off the alarm with his remote, and
reaching for the radio microphone clipped to his shoulder. Tigress flew from the truck
and slashed the microphone cord in pieces with a quick swipe of her razor-sharp
fingernails. "I dont want to have to hurt you. Please dont make me," she begged. The
female paramedic turned to her partner and said, "Back off, Mark, shes been shot. We
have to help her." She turned to Tigress and said, "Get back in the truck, before someone
sees you and calls the police." "Sandy! Shes a wanted felon!" Mark said to his partner.
"Shes a hero. My old man used to get drunk and beat my mom and me. If I had her
nails I wouldve torn him apart, too," Sandy said, "Now get in here and help me with
her!"
Inside the EMS truck, Sandy carefully unwrapped the blood-soaked bandana from
Tigress thigh. "Weve got to get you to a hospital," she announced. "No! No hospital!"
Tigress cried, "Just suture me up, please." "You dont understand. The bullet has to
come out or you could get gangrene," Sandy said. "So take it out," Tigress said. "We
dont have the proper instruments," Mark said. "I do," Tigress said, holding up her three-
inch fingernails. Mark gasped. "Got smelling salts?" Tigress asked Sandy. "Dont
worry, he isnt really going to faint," Sandy laughed at her ashen-faced partner. "Theyre
for me. In case I pass out in the middle," Tigress said. She grabbed a towel, rolled it up
and clenched it between her teeth. "Wait. Let me give you a local. It wont help that
much, but maybe a little," Sandy said holding a hypodermic. Tigress began to insert her
three-inch pinkie nail into the wound. Her face turned beet-red, and tears streamed from
behind her mask as she dug her nail in until her finger itself was halfway to the second
joint. Her screams muffled by the towel, Tigress pulled her finger out…with the little
lead bullet nestled neatly in the curved underside of her long fingernail. She spit the
towel out. "There. Now, suture me," she gasped, breathless from the agonizing pain.
"Damn, youre one tough chick," Mark exclaimed admiringly. "Thank you. And
because I owe you, I wont even scratch you for calling me a chick," Tigress said. Mark
forced an anxious laugh, but he could see she hadnt been kidding around. Sandy
cleansed the wound and began to suture it, afterward she applied a dressing and bandage.
She prepared another hypodermic and said, "Penicillin. Oh, and when was the last time
you had a tetanus shot?" "A couple years ago," Tigress said. "Good, then you should be
fine. Youll need to change the dressing three times a day, and if it looks like its getting
infected, call me and Ill give you another shot," Sandy said writing her number on a slip
of paper, "The stitches will need to come out in two weeks. Call me and Ill do it."
"Thanks, but I think I can handle that myself," Tigress said. "If theres anything else we
can do for you, please, just ask," Mark said. "Well…actually there is something…you
can do," Tigress said, licking her lips. Her ordeal had not quelled her sexual arousal in
the least, and she looked at Sandy and said, "Im really horny. Do you mind if I help
myself to your partner? You two arent a couple, are you?" "Us? No!" Sandy laughed,
"Hes all yours. Ill just go grab another cup of coffee." "Better make it two cups. And
have a piece of pie," Tigress replied. Sandy said with awestruck amazement, "You really
are my hero, girl. I dont know anybody who could endure what you just did and still
feel like screwing." "Hey! Dont I at least get a say in this?" Mark asked laughingly. "Of
course you do," Tigress said seriously, poising her deadly three-inch fingernails before
him, "If you dont find me attractive, just tell me to my face." Mark swallowed hard and
began silently to unbutton his uniform shirt. "Were good then?" Tigress asked with a
facetious grin, as she slowly forced him back on the gurney. She slashed his heavy
leather belt effortlessly with a quick swipe of one long fingernail, and then slipped her
nails under his waistband and tore off his uniform trousers and his briefs like tissue-
paper. Tigress smacked her lips at the sight of his ample cock and she reached for it.
Mark gasped with fear and sat up on his elbows. "Relax," she said, planting her bare foot
on his chest and forcing him back down. Mark stared down his nose anxiously at her
outlandishly-long toenails which rested just below his chin. "You neednt worry Ill
harm your dick," she laughed, and then she made a quick graze of her sharp toenails
across his bare chest, leaving a trail of raw scratches that quickly saturated with blood.
"Jesus!" he screamed. "Oh, suck it up. Those wont even leave scars," Tigress said just
before she straddled him. When Sandy returned twenty minutes later, she found her
partner sprawled on his back gasping for breath. Bits of his shredded uniform were
scattered everywhere, his reddened cock lay flaccid against his thigh like a little deflated
balloon, and his torso and legs were blanketed with an assortment of nicks, gouges and
scratches. "Rough night?" Sandy joked.
Dawn was breaking just as Tigress slipped in through the window of her little studio
apartment. She saw that Sunny was still sleeping soundly, so she took her stilettos off
and walked slowly barefoot across the floor. But the boards creaked, and her two-inch
toenails clicked against the parquet with every step, and Sunny opened her eyes. "Good
morning sweetie," Tigress whispered. Sunny sat up in bed yawning. She reached up and
gently lifted Tigress mask. "Good morning, aunt Sara," she said. "Would you like some
breakfast?" Sara asked. "Thanks," Sunny replied, but then she frowned with concern at
the bandage and asked, "What happened to you?" "Oh, nothing, sweetie. Just a little
accident," Sara said. Sunny got up and took Saras arm and began to lead her to the sofa-
bed. "I can fix my own breakfast. I do it all the time. You lie down, ok?" Sunny said.
Sara cuddled her. "Thank you," she said, and she lay down on top of the covers and fell
sound asleep. When Sara awoke hours later, she was under the covers, and she could feel
that she was naked. She looked and saw her tiger-striped mini-skirt and bustier hung
neatly on a chair along with her mask, and her steel-tipped stiletto platform sandals were
arranged underneath. "You fell asleep in your Tigress costume," Sunny said, "You didnt
look comfortable. I hope you arent mad at me." "Of course not!" Sara said, "It was
really sweet of you. Youre my little angel of mercy." "Whats that?" Sunny asked. "A
very special kind of angel," Sara responded, motioning Sunny to come lie next to her.
"Crap. Just a second, I need my dressing changed," Sara said. Sunny gently reached to
undo her bandage. "Oh, no sweetie, I didnt mean for you to do it. I dont want you to
look at it, its kind of scary. I have stitches," Sara said. "Its no big deal. I used to
change my mommys bandages after he beat her up," Sunny said. And she seemed to
know exactly what she was doing, cleaning and re-dressing Saras wound. "Who shot
you?" she asked. "How do you know someone shot me?" Sara asked with surprise.
Sunny just looked at her, and the answer was obvious. Sara closed her eyes and choked
back tears, that this sweet little girl knew things no child should have to know. "I thought
bullets bounce off you," Sunny said. "I wish, but no," Sara said, gingerly patting her sore
leg. "Aunt Sara?" Sunny said, "Where will I go if you die?"
"Fuck! I just paid to replace that window!" Detective Danny Murphy yelled, ducking the
hailstorm of glass bits, "Why cant you just knock on my door like an ordinary person?"
"Because Im extraordinary," Tigress said flexing her long-nailed fingers as she
approached him, crunching the broken glass beneath her platform sandals, their steel-
tipped stiletto heels splintering into the wood floor as she stepped, licking her lips and
casting him a look of uncontrollable lust. "What? You think you can just burst into a
cops apartment in the middle of the night any time you want?" he asked. "Yes," she
said, pushing him on the bed and putting her knee in his crotch. "And you think Ill just
automatically want to fuck you?" he asked. "Yes," Tigress said, placing her hands on his
shoulders and pressing her three-inch fingernails into his back hard enough to make him
wince. "I see you have a new mattress," Tigress remarked with a grin. "Shit," Murphy
muttered, understanding she would soon shred it with her implausibly-strong nails.
"What happened?" he asked noticing the bandage on her leg. "Its nothing," she said.
Murphy squeezed her thigh and she screamed. "Nothing, huh," he said sarcastically.
"Ass!" she cried and stabbed a three-inch fingernail into his thigh, "See how you like it!"
"Fuck!" he grimaced, clutching the bleeding wound. The sight of his blood on her long
fingernail made Tigress pussy tingle, and the heaviness in her loins grew rapidly. Her
stiletto sandals made consecutive thunks as they hit the floor, and she rolled Murphy on
top of her. Their harmonizing screams crescendoed to a peak, and then gradually
subsided as mattress stuffing settled upon them like a blanket of new-fallen snow.
Tigress peeled off her mask and wiped the perspiration from her forehead. "I need a
favor," Sara asked Detective Murphy earnestly, "I need you to hook me up with some
moulded body armor. Womens. Size four," "I dont think they make it in tiger-stripes,"
he said facetiously, "Oh, and do you want an assault rifle or some grenades while Im at
it?" "Ill paint the tiger stripes. And Ive got all the weapons I need, thank you," she said
brandishing her three-inch fingernails. "All the weapons," she repeated as she replaced
her mask, and grazed his bare ass quickly with her two-inch toenails. "Gaaaah! Fuck!"
Murphy cried. "Thats for being a sarcastic ass again," she smirked. Tigress grasped her
ankle and pulled her foot toward her. "Ummmm," she sighed at the sight of the light
smear of blood on her exceedingly-long toenails, unbridled animal lust transforming her
once again into a raging sexual dynamo. "I need another favor," Sara said as the two of
them lay there exhausted from sex, "I need you to hook me up with someone who can get
Sunny a new identity, as my adopted daughter." "Jesus! Youre asking me to conspire to
commit a whole list of felonies! Im a cop for Gods sake!" Murphy screamed. "When I
was a kid I was taught that policemen save peoples lives. Im asking you to save a little
girls life," Sara said. Murphy bit his lip pondering. "You know youd have to reveal
your identity to me," he said. "I know," she said. "I could have the S.W.A.T team there in
a heartbeat," he said. "Make sure they bring plenty of body bags," she said with Tigress
unmistakable smirk. Murphy sat up straight. "I wont conspire to falsify adoption papers
for you!" he said, "Go ahead and kill me if you want to." Murphy closed his eyes and
braced himself to suffer the unspeakable pain of her deadly nails. "Goodbye, Danny,"
Sara said with somber finality. Murphy opened his eyes, and there were tears running
down her lovely young cheeks as she began to get off the bed. "Wait," he said tenderly,
grasping her arm, "I wont conspire to falsify those adoption papers for you, but I will do
it for…us." Sara wrinkled her brow. "A little girl needs a father, too, you know,"
Murphy said.
In the morning, Sara opened the curtains in her little studio apartment. Little Sunnys
head peeked out from under the covers on the sofa bed, and as she opened her eyes
slowly, a sweet smile crossed her face. "Good morning, Sunny Sunshine!" Sara said
cheerfully. "Good morning, Aunt Sara," Sunny said, "Did you kill any bad guys last
night?" "Nope. But I have good news and great news," Sara said, "The good news is, a
really wonderful guy, a policeman, is getting me a costume that bullets will bounce off.
So you dont have to worry about me getting shot again." "Cool!" Sunny said, "So
whats the great news?" "Well," Sara said joyfully, "You and I and that wonderful
policeman are going to live together forever. Were going to be a real fam…" Saras
words stuck in her throat when she happened to glance at the end-table next to the sofa-
bed. Her eyes bulged. There on the table was her little bottle of formula. "Oh no!
Sunny, please tell me you didnt use that!" Sara pleaded. Sunny lowered her eyes and her
lower lip started to quiver. "Im sorry," she said meekly, "I found it in the drawer and I
didnt think you would mind. Please dont hate me!" "I dont hate you, Sunny! I could
never hate you!" Sara said opening her arms to the little girl, and Sunny eagerly thrust her
arms out from the covers to receive the embrace. "Oh crud," Sara sighed dejectedly
when she saw Sunnys hands. "Whoa! Cool!" Sunny shrieked as she gaped wondrously
at her tiny fingers which now sported half-inch long nails. She grabbed the blanket to
uncover herself, and her nails tore it like tissue paper. Sunny hopped out of bed quickly
and examined her toenails, which were suddenly a quarter-inch long. Wide eyed she
looked up at Sara and exclaimed with joy, "Now we can kill bad guys together! Can I
have a costume, too? Pleeeaassse, mommy!"
-
Virgin Island
Virgin Island … by R. Starkweather
One would think that leading-man looks, a high-paying job at a Wall Street investment
bank, penthouse apartment on the upper west side, and a steady supply of beautiful
women would be a guys idea of paradise on earth. At thirty-four years old, six-one,
lean and muscular, with a full head of dark hair and dark eyes, Brent Crane was that guy.
But the job and the New York lifestyle came with a price, that being inhuman stress and
non-stop pressure which Brent had seen destroy a fair number of his contemporaries.
Some had sought relief from alcohol and cocaine, others from greedy doctors who saw
prescription-writing as tantamount to printing money. In all cases the stories ended
badly, typically in rehab facilities or mental institutions, but not infrequently in suicide.
Brent was determined not to let that happen to him. So when he came to work one
Monday and opened his e-mail and saw an ad for an all-inclusive long-weekend singles
getaway on a tropical island at a spectacular last-minute price, he immediately made a
reservation and cashed-in some frequent-flyer miles for a round-trip ticket.
Brent sent his boss an e-mail asking for Thursday and Monday off. The reply he
received was "Brent I really need you to work this weekend…but if you could make it a
working vacation and take Alex…" Recognizing that if he wanted to go he had no choice
but to let his boss geeky nephew tag along, he agreed. Alex Knipper was the
quintessential geek. At only twenty-six he had both an MBA and a law degree from
Harvard, and a computer-like ability to recall facts and figures that made him an asset to
an investment bank. Being the nephew of the boss didnt hurt either. But Alex was not
as fortunate in other aspects of his life. He was only five-seven, and scrawny, with
tightly-curled hair that had already begun to recede . He was also awkward and socially-
inept. To say that Alex wasnt a hit with the ladies would be a massive understatement.
In fact the reason Brents boss had extorted his nephews way into Brents tropical
paradise weekend was expressly because he expected Brent to get the kid laid, and Brent
knew he would have to come through.
Dressed in light khakis and huaraches, Brent exited the taxi at JFK and hoisted his
weekend bag from the trunk. With his designer sunglasses hung stylishly by one temple
in the crook of his Polo shirt, he looked like a male model headed for a GQ photoshoot.
His geeky tag-along companion Alex stumbled out of the cab and clumsily dragged his
rollaboard suitcase up the ramp while Brent tipped the cabbie. With his spindly legs,
Alex looked like a stick-figure in Bermuda shorts and Birkenstocks…worn with mid-calf
white gym socks. Completing the sad picture was a too-big and too-loud Hawaiian-print
shirt. Brent bit his lip to keep from cracking-up. He was, after all, his bosss nephew…a
fact driven home to Brent again as he passed Alexs first-class seat on his way back to
coach. Alex was flirting in a comically obvious way with the flight attendant, a woman
in her fifties trying to cover twenty years of it with makeup. But Alex wasnt looking at
her face, he was staring at her hands. He had the same habit with women in the office,
and the creepy feeling it gave them was well-known fodder for water-cooler gossip.
Brent hid his smirk and stifled a chuckle.
The 737 set down on the runway with a jolt, followed by the rush of the jets and a strong
forward pull as it quickly decelerated. Brent gazed out the window at sabal palms in the
distance, their leafy tops swaying gently as if shaking their heads in disapproval of the
frenzied pace of ground crews hurrying to wheel a large staircase to the plane, and to
unload luggage onto a tractor-driven tram. He stretched and took a deep breath,
contemplating the next few days of idyllic weather and posh tropical surroundings, and in
his mind conjured up images of the beautiful women with whom he anticipated having
sex. Alex was already on the tarmac sitting on his wheeled bag when Brent came down
the stairs. They walked toward the small terminal, where a number of locals were
standing holding hand-written cardboard signs bearing the names of passengers they were
there to meet. Brent spotted the sign which read "Crane", held by a wiry little middle-
aged man dressed incongruously in a green Puma jogging suit that harkened back to the
1980s. The commanding characteristic one noticed though, was that his leathery bronzed
face was disfigured with a curious array of raised scars. Brent began walking faster,
urging Alex to follow. "Im Brent Crane," he said to the man in the jogging suit.
"Welcome to the islands, capn," the man said jovially, "Folks call me Jocko. Follow me
please, capn." Brent looked at Alex and bowed with his arm outstretched. "After you,
capn," he said with a facetious grin. They followed Jocko quickly off the tarmac and
onto a hard dirt path, with Alex bringing up the rear dragging his rollaboard bumping and
bouncing on the uneven ground. Jocko finally came to a halt a few steps from a wooden
dock where a small motorboat in need of a paint job bumped softly into the sandbags as it
rocked. "Mind your step, capn," Jocko warned as he held out his hand to assist the men
into the boat. "I dont understand…cant we walk to the hotel?" Brent asked. "Oh no
capn. Youre staying clear on another island. Only way to get there is by boat," Jocko
replied. The two men looked at each other and shrugged. Alex lowered the handle on his
rollaboard and began to lift it. "No need for you to carry that, capn," Jocko said taking
Alex by the arm, "Another boat be along in a few minutes to bring your luggage." The
two New Yorkers looked at each other suspiciously and then at Jocko. "Dont fret capn.
There are no thieves round here. Just honest folk," Jocko assured them. Brent and Alex
looked around uneasily, but they shrugged and boarded the little motorboat. They still
had those uneasy looks as they watched their luggage sitting unattended on the dock,
getting smaller as they motored out into the lagoon.
"About how far is it?" Brent asked, wiping the sweat from his brow, after theyd been on
the water a half-hour. The two New Yorkers were cooking in the tropical heat and
humidity, and couldnt understand how Jocko could stand to be in a long-legged, long-
sleeved polyester jogging suit. The only part of him exposed other than his head were his
hands, which the boys noticed bore the same raised scars as his face. "Not much longer,
capn," Jocko replied, "We be there soon now." "Is it crowded?" Alex asked. "Oh no
capn, not many folks," Jocko replied. "I only care that there are enough women," Brent
laughed. "Plenty of those, capn," Jocko laughed, "The most beautiful ones in the world,
some say." Alex raised his fist to give Brents a bump, but with the forlorn look of
someone who knew he was far out of his companions league.
Jocko swung the little motorboat around and lassoed a pylon with the tie-rope, pulling the
boat close and tying it steady with the practiced hand of a veteran sailor. He hopped off
the boat and helped his passengers ashore. "Follow me capn," he said, "Its just yonder,
up that little hill." Brent and Alex looked around at the lush jungle-like growth of
tropical flora, and as they followed Jocko up the path they could hear the soft strumming
of a ukelele growing louder. They came to a clearing, where a stubby little man sat on a
stool playing the tiny ukelele, and three bronze-skinned, barefoot young-teenaged girls
with waist-long black curls and grass skirts danced in unison. They traced elaborate
patterns in the air with their hands, white-tipped nails just a little bit longer than their
fingertips adding an elegance and grace to the motions of their small fingers; as did the
slivers of white nail tips on their little toes as they made swirls in the soft dirt. As Brent
and Alex approached, two of the young girls danced up to them, each took off one of the
floral leis she wore around her neck and placed it over the head of the guest before whom
she stood. The girls clasped their little hands together and bowed, while the third girl
said a well-rehearsed, "Welcome to our island. We hope you have had an easy journey,
and we wish you a pleasant stay." The guys thanked their welcoming committee and
Brent whispered aside, "If these girls are any indication of what their older sisters look
like, this is going to be a weekend to remember!" The girls resumed dancing and Jocko
motioned the two men ahead. "Hey, eyes forward, Alex! Those three are jail-bait!" Brent
quipped. "Huh? What?" Alex said emerging from deep fascination at the three pairs of
little dancing feet. "Come on," Brent said motioning Alex to hurry to catch up with him
and Jocko. As they passed the little man playing the ukelele they noticed that his face
and arms bore multiple raised scars quite like Jockos, as did his legs. Alex whispered
something to Brent, and Brent shrugged and said, "How should I know? Maybe alligator-
wrestling is the sport down here."
They walked along a path cut through a thick stand of ferns until it opened onto a
clearing with a row of grass-thatched huts. "Here we go, capn," Jocko said. "Wheres
here?" Brent asked, "I thought this was a swanky resort. There must be some mistake.
The brochure implied…" "This is where guests stay, capn," Jocko said. "The women
had better really be amazing," Brent warned Jocko. "Oh trust me capn, they are that,
and then some," he assured. Silently the guys entered their huts at Jockos gesturing.
Inside each hut was a bamboo-framed cot with a thick grass mattress, a small wooden
stand with a large bowl and pitcher of water, and a straight wooden chair. "Wheres the
shower?" Alex asked. Jocko said, "Out back, about twenty yards youll see a tree with a
steel drum tied to the trunk, up high. You just stands under it and theres a hose with a
clamp." Alex looked mortified. "Dont worry capn, its almost always full. Rains here
a lot," Jocko assured him. "And the toilet?" Alex asked timidly. "Anywhere you like,
capn," Jocko laughed. Alexs shoulders drooped.
"Come, let me show you round," Jocko said to the New Yorkers. They followed their
guide through another little jungle pathway, and into another, larger clearing with more
and larger huts, where scores of native dwellers busied themselves with daily matters. A
fat old woman with very long white hair sat majestically on a chair in front of one hut,
her pendulous breasts lying like half-filled flour sacks against her ample stomach;
chubby, gnarled hands clasped in her lap and her similarly chubby, gnarled bare feet
propped on a grass-thatched ottoman. "Holy shit, get a load of the talons on that old
witch!" Brent whispered to Alex. The old womans fingernails looked to be seven or
eight inches long and twisted, and her thickened yellowed toenails were at least a couple
inches as well. "Damn! Thats just gross," Brent whispered. Alex didnt respond. He was
staring at the old lady and had the unmistakable bulge of an erection in his Bermuda
shorts. "Now, thats just plain messed-up," Brent thought to himself, "And Im stuck
babysitting the sick little fuck all weekend." An old man using a heavy rock to pound
some kind of grain into powder on a concave boulder looked up at the American visitors
and then at the old lady, who motioned him with her eyes to continue his task. Brent
noticed that mans body was also covered with long, raised scars.
Nearby, a quartet of young girls ranging perhaps from 5 to 9 or 10 years old were
giggling and talking among themselves, followed by a boy of approximately the same age
struggling to carry two large buckets of water suspended on either end of a pole across
his shoulders. The guys began to notice that in this island society, males were quite in
the minority, and also that they seemed to occupy subservient roles. "I dont see a lot of
men around," Brent remarked to Jocko. "No capn," he replied. "I guess that makes the
odds great for them," Brent laughed. Jocko shook his head and sighed, "Lots of work
and not many men to do it." "What about the women? Dont they work?" Brent asked.
"Oh no capn, never. Its just the way things are," Jocko said. A pair of young women
walked by. They were both stunningly beautiful, with their long, wavy black hair and
bronzed skin, dark sultry eyes, and gently-curved hips. The Americans stopped dead in
their tracks, so overcome were they by the beauty of the two women. "Hey there, howre
you doin," Brent said with a rakish white smile. The two girls quickly covered their
faces, square-tipped nails about a quarter-inch long like a miniature white picket fence
concealing their eyes. "Them are only fifteen, capn," Jocko said, "Here girls are not
permitted to have a man until theyre eighteen." "Thanks for the heads-up," Brent
snickered. "Dont fret capn," Jocko said, and with a lascivious wink added, "I knows a
couple of beautiful girls who just turned eighteen." Brent grinned. They kept walking,
but he realized Alex hadnt moved, he was still staring at the girls hands, still covering
their faces. "Alex! Come on! Our girls are this way," Brent laughed from a distance.
Alex shook himself and hurried to catch up.
At the far side of the village, Jocko brought Brent and Alex to a tall bamboo fence with a
gate in the center. He gestured them through the gate and after closing it behind them,
secured it with a twist of rope. As they walked inside the small compound, a few
chickens scattered ahead of their path, fluttering their wings and clucking, and a goat
bleated once before resuming munching on a pile of dry grass. Ahead of them was a
large hut, and Jocko gestured them through the doorway. "Have a seat, capn," he said
motioning the two men toward a bamboo bench. Brent and Alex sat, Jocko disappeared
through an inner doorway covered by a hanging lattice of beads. In a few moments he
emerged with two young women on either side. The guys eyes lit up when they saw
how jaw-droppingly beautiful the two women were. More beautiful even than any theyd
seen so far. "This one here is Lolani," Jocko said nodding to the girl on his right, and
turning his head to the left, "And this one is Kaiina." Brent leapt to his feet. "Happy
birthday ladies," he said flashing his most charming smile. The girls bowed their heads
and giggled shyly. "How to we choose which one is whose?" Alex blurted tactlessly.
Brent elbowed him and shot him a disapproving glare. Jocko laughed, "Its them what
does the choosing capn." "I guess some things are universal," Brent laughed.
Brents deep blue eyes flitted up and down, checking out the girls bodies. Alexs beady
stare was riveted to their hands, for both girls had inch-long fingernails with perfectly
square tips; and as the two beautiful women approached slowly, Alex noticed that they
both also had half-inch long toenails. He swallowed hard and his knees were shaking.
But his shoulders drooped when it became obvious that both girls were ignoring him
completely, while raking Brent up and down with unashamedly-lustful gazes. They stood
on either side of Brent with a hand on his shoulder, looked at Jocko and nodded. Brent
blushed and looked at Alex with a sheepish shrug, then he looked to Jocko imploringly
and motioned his eyes in Alex direction. Jocko raised his eyebrows at the two young
women, but they just turned their noses up with an air of determined resolve. Jocko
bowed his head, and the two girls stepped away from Brent and faced one another with
steely glares. Brent and Alex looked at each other, Alex with a nervous expression, Brent
with an eager one. Clearly he was hoping to witness a cat-fight over him, while Alex
clearly didnt. Then, standing ramrod-straight, each of the beautiful nymphets put her
hands on the others shoulders, in what looked like a gesture of camaraderie. Brent and
Alex looked at each other puzzled. Suddenly though, each girl dug her inch-long
fingernails into her opponents shoulders. Teeth clenched, fingers white from the force
they were applying, they stood staring each other down with un-blinking eyes. For
almost a minute they stood like that, digging their long nails into each others shoulders.
Tears began to run from their still-unblinking, staring eyes. Another minute passed.
Kaiina placed her right foot on top of Lolanis left, whereupon Lolani quickly placed her
right foot on top of Kaainas left, and simultaneously the two girls dug their half-inch
long toenails into their opponents instep. Another minute passed. Rivers of tears
streamed down their faces, splashing in large droplets on the dirt floor. Their chins began
to quiver slightly, but they drew deep breaths and persevered with renewed resolve,
digging their long fingernails and toenails into each other with all their might. Lolani let
slip a tiny whimper. Kaiinas eyes sparkled, and one corner of her sexy mouth turned up
slightly. She narrowed her still-unblinking eyes and, mustering the last remaining ounce
of her strength, dug her nails in with a grunt. Lolani rolled her tear-filled eyes
heavenward and whimpered out loud. Kaiinas full, pouty lips broke into a triumphant
smile, and in an instant Lolani cried out and looked away. Kaiina eyed Brent with the
satisfaction of a victor contemplating her prize, while Lolani took a quick and
disappointed glance at Alex and hung her head. Both women seemed to ignore their
wounds, perfect half-circles trickling blood. They turned together and walked silently
back toward the doorway from which they had emerged. "Where are you going?" Alex
asked with alarm. "They go now to be prepared," Jocko said, "Come and watch. I
thinks you will find it most interesting." "Prepared?" Alex whispered to Brent, who
shrugged.
Jocko held back the beaded arras so the two Americans could pass through the doorway
into the next room. It was divided in half by a bamboo curtain, and on either side was a
four-poster bamboo bed with thatched mattress. By each bed, four girls sat on the floor,
and a middle-aged woman stood in the corner. "Them are their sisters," Jocko
whispered, and nodding his head at the middle-aged women, "And them two are their
mothers." Lolani laid on one bed, on her back, and Kaiina laid on the other. The
younger girls got up and began lovingly bathing Lolani and Kaiina with sponges soaked
in a bucket of water with roses floating on the surface. Slowly, up and down their arms
and legs, the younger siblings stroked their older sisters with the sponges as the water
trickled over their smooth bronzed skin. Brent and Alex watched Lolanis and Kaiinas
perfect navels rise and fall as they breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of roses that filled
the air. When the ritual bathing was completed, the younger sisters split up with each one
standing by a bed post like dutiful sentries. They each gently grasped one of their older
sisters wrists or ankles and tied them gently to a bed post with a thin strip of leather. At
that point, their mothers approached the beds, each one holding a single red long-
stemmed rose. Alex gasped slightly seeing that the older womens fingernails were three
to four inches long, and their toenails well over an inch. The mothers carefully removed
Lolanis and Kaiinas bikini tops and began to brush their daughters nipples softly with
the rose, smiling lovingly as the nipples hardened, accompanied by pleasured sighs.
Brent gave Jocko an inquisitive expression, and Jocko whispered, "In our culture, it is the
mothers duty to prepare her daughter for a man." "No need for guys to worry about
foreplay here, eh? Sure wish things were like that in New York," Brent whispered with a
grin. When Lolanis and Kaiinas moans reached a certain crescendo their mothers
stopped brushing their daughters nipples with the rose. They knelt by the beds and
carefully removed their daughters grass skirts, and then they began to apply the rose to
the girls pussies, brushing in light circles with the petals. The air was filled with the
blissful moans of both girls and the mixed scent of roses and female musk, and it was
getting Brent hard. Alex had been hard for a while already, his eyes darting frantically,
trying to drink in the sight of all the long fingernails and toenails on both sides of the
divided room. Like a child in a toy store, everywhere he looked there was something he
wanted. Brents arousal was growing by leaps and bounds. "How about you ask Mama
and the girls to clear out?" he whispered to Jocko. "Oh no, sorry capn, the ritual aint
done yet," Jocko whispered. "I dont think I can stand this too much longer," Brent
whispered. "Think about them, capn. They been waiting eighteen years, plus maybe a
week or two on top of that," Jocko whispered. "Why the week or two?" Brent asked.
"Till its just the right day," he said. "Right day?" Brent said with a puzzled expression.
Jocko smiled condescendingly at what he perceived was Brents lack of perception, and
whispered, "Oh, you know capn…the day when a woman is…her most…fertile."
Brent and Alex went cold and numb. "F-f-f-fertile?! Shit! My condoms are in my
suitcase!" Brent whispered to Alex, "How about you?" "I…um…didnt think about
bringing condoms. Sorry," Alex said sheepishly. Brent slapped himself on the forehead.
"Ok, no need to panic," Brent whispered, "Well just have to stick with hand sex and oral
sex for now, and then later when my suitcase gets here I have plenty of condoms for both
of us." Jocko overheard, and grinned to himself. Amid the lilting harmony of Lolanis
and Kaiinas moans of pleasure from the soft petals of the rose their mothers were
applying expertly to their daughters now-engorged clits, Alex and Brent heard a rasping
sound begin, and they looked up. Each of the younger girls was kneeling at a bedpost
busily taking a whale-bone file to her older sisters fingernails or toenails. "Well thats a
relief," Brent said aside to Alex, "Nothing I hate more than long nails on a chick."
Alexs heart dropped to the pit of his stomach, because long nails got him off like no
other female attribute. "Wouldnt it be quicker if they just used scissors to cut their nails
off?" Brent said to Jocko. Jocko looked shocked. "That would be blasphemy, capn!" he
said, "The gods command that girls grows their nails from the time they has their first
period, and dont stop for the rest of their lives. It angers the gods if a girl even breaks a
nail by accident. Thats why we men does all the work for them." Brent turned to Alex
so Jocko wouldnt see, and made a disgusted face. Alex however was consumed with
fascination and adulation for such a place where women having long nails was a religious
decree. It was his ultimate fantasy, his idea of heaven on earth. He asked Jocko, "If
theyre not allowed to cut their nails, whats up with the files?"
Jocko smiled and began, "It is said that in ancient days the men and women of our people
consorted to excess. Men took five or ten wives and fathered forty or fifty children.
Sometimes more. There was not enough food on the island for all the people, and there
came a famine and many starved. The gods presented our ancestors with a plan so that
future generations would be small in number." Alex and Brent smiled and nodded, but
looked at each other and shrugged. "These two you see before you are my wives" Jocko
boasted gesturing at the older women, "And these ten girls are my daughters. I am very,
very strong capn, but even I could not bear to consort even once more." He unzipped
and removed his ancient Puma jogging suit jacket, revealing that the scars on his face and
hands were a foreshadow of those which covered his arms and his torso front and back.
Alex wrinkled his brow and began, "I dont quite get…" Brent grabbed his shoulder and
gasped, "Ohhhh shit!" as he drew Alexs attention ahead. Their jaws went slack. The
younger girls had finished filing Lolanis and Kaiinas inch-long fingernails and half-inch
long toenails---to sharpened points.
"No offense meant to you or your lovely daughters, Jocko," Brent said trying to remain
calm and polite, "But wed like to go home now." "Fraid its too late for that now,
capn," Jocko said, raising his voice to be heard above the impassioned moans of his
daughters as their clits were being stimulated with the rose applied so skillfully by their
mothers. The mothers motioned for the younger girls at their sisters feet to undo their
leather binds. As the binds came loose, Lolani and Kaiina raised their legs up and back,
hooking the sharpened nails on their big toes under the leather straps binding their hands,
and the straps cut apart with ease. They both sat up straight, eyes wild, breathing heavily.
Their younger sisters screamed in fear and ran to huddle behind their mothers, who
quickly spirited them out of the room past Brent and Alex while Jocko held them with an
unimaginably-strong grip. "You cant keep us here!" Brent insisted. "Its a small island,
capn. Next island is an hour away by boat. Waters all around are full of sharks. If you
runs, my daughters sure going to catch you by-and-by. But theyre aching for a man right
now, and the longer you makes them wait the worse for you, trust me capn." When his
wives and young daughters were safely outside, he let go of the two Americans and beat
a hasty retreat himself. Nostrils flaring, growling from deep within, the two young
women got on their knees on their beds, burning lust-filled stares at their betrothed
lovers. Lolani stepped off her bed slowly, never taking her eyes off of Alex. Slowly she
began to approach him. He inched away, but she circled around him, and soon had him
backed into the corner.
Meanwhile, Kaiina who had proved herself the more aggressive of the two in their
contest to see who would get Brent, leaped from the bed and landed in front of Brent.
Biting her lip she slid her hands up his shirt front and hooked her fingers into his collar.
"Hey, ok, let me get those buttons for you," he said trepiditiously. In a quick motion she
tore his shirt open and gazed excitedly at his chiseled muscular chest. Breathing hard,
she placed her warm, bronzed hands against his large, hard pecs and rubbed his nipples
with her palms. "Uh, watch it with those…things," he said fearfully glancing down at
her inch-long fingernails whose sharp points were a hairs breadth from his skin. Kaiina
blinked her huge, soft brown eyes at him. Brent smiled and brushed her cheek with the
back of his hand. "Youre so hot," he said with his most charming smile. A corner of her
sexy mouth curled up, much as it had when shed vanquished her half-sister to win Brent
for herself. "Tell Brent what you want, baby," Brent said, referring to himself in the
third-person with macho swagger. Kaiina smiled and batted her thick black lashes.
Then with animal quickness she swiped his pecs with her fingernails. Ten pencil-thin red
lines bled instantly. "Bitch!" Brent screamed, "Fucking bitch!"
Alex heard his companion scream from the other side of the bamboo curtain. Lolani paid
no attention at all, she just pressed him into the corner, hot breath on his neck, grinding
her crotch into his. She looked him in the eye, and he looked her back. She was so
beautiful. She put her hand on top of his head, and he glanced up and saw her inch-long
pointed nails hovering above his eyes. The knowledge of what those talons could do to
him made him ice-cold with terror, but seeing them had him rock hard. Lolani felt his
erection against her, and she ooohed and aaahhhed with anticipation. Alex half-smiled.
Lolanis eyes were half-closed, she was drooling from the corners of her parted lips as
she pressed them to his. Alex put his arms around her and settled in for a long, tender
kiss. But instead, she proceeded to try and suck Alexs tongue down her throat, forcing
him against the corner with her body and pressing her hand down against the top of his
head to hold him securely. Her mouth clamped tightly over his muffled all but a gutteral
vestige of the scream he tried to let out as she dug the points of her long fingernails into
his brow and slowly clawed up toward his receding hairline, while she dug her sharpened
big-toenail through his sock into his ankle and sliced leisurely up his shin.
On the other side of the bamboo curtain, Brent grabbed hold of Kaiinas wrists. "Dont
do that again, you understand?" he shouted angrily, referring to the thin bleeding scratch
lines shed left on his sculpted pecs. Overflowing with lust, Kaiina struggled to free
herself from his strong grip. She was surprisingly strong, and Brent could hardly hold
onto her but he knew he had to, because he knew if he let go now she would surely claw
him brutally with her dagger-pointed fingernails she was flexing menacingly. He hoped
if she thrashed long enough she would tire herself out and be easier to subdue, a strategy
that had worked for him in his college wrestling days. But he had never wrestled a sex-
crazed island girl with twenty sharp-pointed nails, and had completely forgotten about
her other ten. Kaiina lifted her foot up to his hip and just as he felt the five points of her
toenails stab through his khakis she raked them down his thigh, tearing fabric and flesh
alike. Brent screamed but kept his iron grip on her wrists. Kaiina growled with
frustration, then like a circus acrobat hanging from Brents grip like a trapeze, she leapt
up, tucked her knees against herself and then extended her legs up in front of her quickly.
Just as quickly, she clapped Brents face between the soles of her feet and with a swift
downthrust of her powerful legs, slashed him from his temples to his navel with her
razor-sharp toenails. As he staggered back screaming and holding his bleeding face,
Kaiina dropped to a crouch and grabbed her nails into one thigh while she tore his pants
and briefs away with her other hand and began to lick his dick and balls.
Meanwhile, Lolani grabbed Alex by the shoulders, her pointed talons digging deep. She
whipped him around and forced him backward toward the bamboo bed. She slammed
him down on his back on the grass mattress and came down hard on top of him. Alex
moaned when she rubbed his hard bulge with her leg. It made Lolani happy, and she
laughed. She sat up and slipped her hands up under his Bermuda shorts and found his
hard dick, squealing giddily as though it was treasure. Fearing her nails, Alex reached to
undo his shorts. Lolani raked the backs of his hands with her pointed fingernails---
lightly, nonetheless shockingly painful, and blood quickly came to the surface. Alex
shrieked and looked at his bleeding hands in horror. Lolani giggled in an almost childlike
way, and she proceeded to shred his shorts and then his briefs into strips and tatters with
her fingernails.
Kaiinas face turned beet-red at the realization that despite her sensual licking, Brents
dick was not getting hard, and in her rage she dragged her pointed inch-long fingernails
angrily over his sixpack abs, leaving ten more bleeding cuts, this time much deeper.
Brent wailed like a siren and screamed, "Stop it! Stop it! For the love of God! Stop it!"
Kaiina ignored his pleas and started sucked at his dick, hoping to feel even a little
hardening. But she didnt understand that it was the pain that was keeping him from
getting an erection. According to what her mother had told her, it would be years before
that would happen. She dug her pointed fingernails into his already-scratched thighs and
clawed hard. Brent dropped to his knees and although it was against everything he was
raised to believe, he drew back his fists to strike. Kaiina yanked her nails from his thighs
without opening her fingers, and Brent fell backward with a sickening howl. She brought
her hands down on his abs with all her weight behind her, and while Brent coughed from
the wind being knocked out of him, she clawed him hard. Kaiina slapped her hands
against his chest and clawed him slowly, then a second time a little faster, and again
faster still, until her arms were a blur of motion, like a dog digging into a badger hole.
Brent used all his strength to roll on his stomach…only to have Kaiina resume her rapid
clawing on his bare back, her sexual frustration fueling a wild rage against Brents
impotence.
Lolani raised her head and gave Alex a dreamy look, and she slipped her hands under
him. She dug her nails into his upper back and he cried from the pain as she pulled him
upright. She sat facing him and slid forward against him, exuding a long, pleasured moan
as his hard cock slid deep inside her pussy. Alex once had a rough handjob from a very
large hooker that had made him cry out, but it was nothing compared to the strength with
which Lolanis pussy contracted around his dick. As she slid herself back and forth Alex
felt like she was about to pull his dick out like a loose tooth. But in a few moments she
discovered that it felt a lot better to have his dick slide in and out against her clit, and she
relaxed enough that it became pleasureable for Alex as well. She looked into his eyes
with burning desire and Alex melted at her exotic beauty. He smiled, she smiled back.
She leaned forward and kissed him gently, quickly, teasingly. He put his arms around
her, felt the softness of her long, curly black hair and the hot dampness of her bronzed
skin. He smelled her musk and her perspiration mixed with the muted remnant of roses.
He pulled her closer to him and she leaned them back together that he would get on top of
her, and he fucked her harder. She wrapped her arms and legs around him. He drove his
cock as deep as he could inside her, she felt it hit her pubic bone and she had the first
orgasm of her life. She cried out. She raked his ass with her toenails and clawed his
back with her inch-long pointed fingernails. Alex came like hed never imagined
possible.
Though in agony and bleeding from Kaiinas ferocious clawing, Brent mustered the
strength to shove her off and scramble for the door. Wearing only his huaraches and the
tattered remnants of his shirt, Brent staggered toward the jungle and stumbled through the
thick vegetation. Branches whipped his cheeks and neck, magnifying the pain from the
scratches Kaiina had made with her sharpened toenails, and his salty sweat burned in the
gaping wounds she had carved in his body with her inch-long pointed fingernails. He
kept turning his head to see if she was closing in on him, but saw no one following.
Drawn to his mostly-naked body covered with claw marks and sweat, insects buzzed
incessantly around him in a maddening hum. Exhausted and throbbing in pain, Brent
pushed on through the jungle, not knowing where he was headed, driven by the primal
instinct to survive.
Back in the hut, Alex and Lolani lay together sleeping, their bodies beaded with
perspiration, their breathing labored, their hearts pounding. Lolanis bronzed skin and
taut, muscular feminine contour contrasted oddly with Alexs spindly frame and the
pallor of a life spent almost entirely indoors. She awoke first, and by the time Alex
opened his eyes Lolani was seated next to him cross-legged on the grass mattress,
chanting softly while tenderly applying a clear green salve to his open claw marks she
had left with her razor-sharp nails during sex. Alex gasped from the sting of her touching
his wounds. "The aloe will keep fever away," she said quickly, then returned to her
chanting. "I think I need stitches!" he whined. "I am praying to the gods that you will
heal quickly," she said, and began chanting again. "Is there a doctor here?" Alex asked.
"Shh! It is important that the gods hear my prayers!" Lolani scolded, "I am praying that
you will have many big scars!" "Scars?! Oh my God!" Alex cried, recalling the thick,
disfiguring scars hed seen on the village men. Lolani explained with a smile, "Scars
from a womans nails are of great pride for a man. The more and bigger his scars means
the more and better he fulfills his purpose." Lolani rolled on her back and stretched her
arms and legs up in the air, slowly spreading and flexing her fingers and toes. "The
greatest respect is given to a woman whose man bears the most and biggest scars from
her nails, because it proves she is irresistible," she said. Lolani rolled on her side, facing
Alex, and rested her head on his bony shoulder. She laid her bronze-skinned leg between
his. "I am irresistible, am I not?" she asked, spreading her hand on his sunken belly.
Alex gazed at her inch-long, pointed fingernails and nodded speechlessly. The both felt
his dick hardening against her calf, and she narrowed her eyes and licked her lips. "You
shall give me many babies," she said, approaching his lips, already drooling in
anticipation. Lolani whispered, "And I shall give you many, many scars," just before she
clamped her mouth over his, and at the same time dragged her sharpened toenails up his
spindly leg and raked her pointed fingernails across his belly. Thin blood-red lines
followed the pointed tips of her nails, and Alex screamed from inside their kiss. As
Lolani sat up she raked her sharp-pointed fingernails from his temples to his waist and
then, oblivious to his pain, lowered herself onto his stiff member. Steadying herself by
burying her fingernails in his sides, she began to roll her small, curvaceous hips. The salt
from his tears burned in the fresh scratches Lolani had left in his cheeks, and her nails
dug into his ribs felt like ten knife-points stabbing him at once. Alex felt faint, the room
seemed like it was spinning. Lolani growled and dug her nails in harder, and he realized
it was because he was beginning to soften. Alex knew she would only claw him deeper if
he failed to perform. He watched her expression transform with frustration and rage.
She let go of his ribs and lifted her hands above him, fingers curled ready to strike with
her inch-long pointed fingernails. The sight of those deadly talons hovering over him
made him get hard again instantly, and Lolani smiled and resumed rolling and thrusting
her hips. "Irresistible. I am irresistible," she sighed. She lowered her hands, resting her
pointed fingernails on each of Alexs shoulders, and as he gripped the grass mattress to
brace himself against the pain he knew would follow, she pressed the pointed tips in until
blood trickled from the punctures, and then dragged her nails along, hard and slow,
leaving wavy trails of bleeding lines all along his arms. And she laughed. Grinding
faster and faster, she leaned back and grabbed Alexs calves with her sharp fingernails
and she slipped her legs out from under her and put her feet under his armpits. Her eyes
widened and her mouth gaped open, and Alex knew she was on the verge of climaxing.
He focused on her extraordinary beauty, and the extraordinary length of her nails, and
thrust himself up to her as rapidly as he could, because he knew he had to cum before the
full force of her orgasm hit her or else the pain from her nails would surely inhibit him.
He stared at her sexy little bronze-toned feet with their milky-white soles, under his
armpits resting against his ribs, and it helped push him over the edge. Lolani gave out a
long, ecstatic moan. Her orgasm curled her toes, and she clawed his sides swiftly with
her razor-sharp pointed long toenails. Slowly she dismounted him and gave him a long,
slow kiss as her bliss gradually subsided, and then she was fast asleep lying on top of
him, her salty sweat trickling into his fresh wounds made them burn like fire.
Brent stumbled through the jungle overgrowth toward the distant sound of the surf.
Hurting and exhausted he pushed on with the thought of stealing Jockos little motorboat
to make his escape from the island. His heart soared when he parted a thick stand of fern
and he saw the boat bobbing at the dock, and with a burst of energy he ran for it. Quickly
he untied the rope and tossed it into the boat, and started the motor. He gunned it and set
the boat bounding away from shore toward the distant shadow of land he recalled as the
larger island where they had landed. Ten minutes later, the little island was merely a
distant shadow, and Brent basked in his freedom. At that point he remembered that
except for his huaraches and the ripped shreds of his shirt, he was quite naked. He hoped
he might find something to wear in the little cabin, so he slowed the motor and peeked
below through the small opening next to the wheel. Something clamped his neck, it felt
like a beartrap, very strong and very sharp. He looked up, straight into the glaring eyes of
Kaiina. "You have disgraced me twice!" she hissed, digging her nails deeper still into
his neck, "You have disgraced me once by refusing to fulfill your purpose, and you have
disgraced me again by running away." "I-Im sorry! Truly Im sorry!" Brent cried.
"Am I not beautiful? Am I not desirable?" she asked angrily. "You are! You are!"
Brent cried, taking ahold of her wrists to try lessening the stabbing pain, "I really want
you, I really do." Kaiina dug her inch-long sharpened fingernails deeper into his neck
and she pulled him down into the little cabin, like Jonah being sucked into the mouth of
the whale, down onto an old lounge cushion that was laid out on the cabin floor. She
clamped her mouth over his and plunged her tongue inside, wrapped her legs around him
and clawed his asscheeks with her pointed toenails, and ground her swollen clit against
his dick. "Your words say you want me, but your man-organ says you do not," she
hissed with rage, and she scored his back viciously with her long, sharpened fingernails.
"Its the pain! I cant perform because of the pain!" Brent wailed. "It is your purpose! It
is how the gods decreed a man and a woman shall lay together!" she spat. "Please, cant
you just try to not scratch me?" he pleaded. "The gods will see, and they will punish us,"
she said fearfully. "Look, I can tell you need it bad, and Im happy to give you what you
need. But you have to let me do it my way," Brent said. Kaiina sighed. Her head
throbbed, her pelvis ached, her nipples were like little mountain peaks and so tender just
the air around them made them throb. The little cabin was filled with the pungent aroma
of her musk, and she looked between her legs at her red, dripping pussy. Brent felt the
stabbing of her nails into his neck lighten, and gently she let go. "Show me your way,"
she whispered.
Brent brushed her thick, long black curls away from her beautiful and exotic, bronzed
features and kissed her tenderly. He made a trail of kisses down her throat, onto her
chest, and he ran his tongue around her hard nipples several times, until she moaned
softly, and then he sucked them gently. He began to bite her nipples lightly, which made
her moan out loud and she gave him a quick scratch on the arm. "Oww! I said not to do
that!" Brent shouted. "I am sorry," she said quietly, "Please continue." Brent kissed his
way down her hard, flat belly, and in a moment he felt his breath on her tender, swollen
pussy lips. "What is this you are doing?" she gasped. "Youll see," he laughed. Kaiina
jumped when his tongue touched her clit, and she closed her legs together and sat up.
"Put your man-organ inside me! Fill me with your seed. Give me a child! That is your
purpose!" she said angrily, lunging at him with her pointed nails. "OK! Just, keep your
claws to yourself!" Brent pleaded fearfully. He took her in his arms and kissed her,
caressed her. Kaiina remained motionless with her hands stiffly at her sides. "Theres a
happy medium you know," Brent said, guiding her hands around him, "Relax. You can
touch me. I want you to touch me. Just, dont use your nails." "I shall try," she said.
They began again to kiss, and Kaiina caressed his back with her palms, being watchful
not to get him with the points of her nails. Gently Brent eased her on her back and parted
her legs with his knee. Kaiina let out a long, delighted howl as she felt Brents hard cock
begin to enter her. "Remember, watch the nails!" he reminded her. She nodded quickly,
breathing hard as he advanced. She made a little squeak when he took her cherry, but the
pleasure quickly overwhelmed her and she began to roll her hips in unison with his
thrusting. She climaxed quickly, and Brent could hear the sound of her nails puncturing
the vinyl lounge pad and ripping it open. A second climax followed quickly, and this
time she pulled her legs up, raking the back of his calves with her sharpened, pointed
toenails. "Owww! Damn it! Do you want me to go soft?!" he screamed. "No! I am
sorry. I did not mean to do it!" Kaiina panted.
Kaiina resumed gently caressing Brent with her palms, kissing him tenderly. With every
ounce of her will she fought the urge to claw him, an instinct bred into her through
countless generations of her ancestry. She was like a hungry lioness in the presence of a
young and tender oryx. She burned to tear her long, razor-sharp pointed fingernails and
toenails through Brents flesh, and having already climaxed herself, she rolled her hips
and thrust against him rapidly in the hopes of making him cum quickly. "Slow down!"
Brent begged her to no avail. As soon as she felt him begin to shoot inside her, Kaiina
slapped her hands against his shoulderblades and sank the points of her inch-long
fingernails deep, and as she dragged them fiercely down his back she buried her pointed
toenails behind his knees and raked the back of his thighs. Brent shrieked in agony and
pushed himself up by his arms, but Kaiina clawed them hard and he collapsed back onto
her, where she resumed tearing at his back while she milked the last drops of his seed
from him as his cock softened and finally slithered out of her like a retreating snake.
Reeling in unimagineable pain, Brent staggered to his feet and crawled out of the little
cabin onto the small deck. Kaiina followed him quickly. "Keep the hell away from me!"
Brent cried. "I shall be judged as a woman by the manner of your wounds," she said
advancing at him with her fingers curled to strike with her sharpened nails, "If yours are
not more than what Lolani has inflicted upon your companion, I will lose face." "I mean
it you crazy cunt, keep back or I swear Ill beat the shit out of you, lady or not," Brent
warned. "I have defied the gods so that you could plant your seed inside me," Kaiina
hissed with rage. Brent drew back his fist, but Kaiina stayed out of his arms reach,
instead she kicked high and raked the front of him swiftly with her pointed toenails.
Startled by the sudden fiery pain, Brent froze. Kaiina dug her sharpened fingernails into
his face and clawed ferociously, down his neck, down his chest. She raised her hands to
strike again. Brent lost his balance and started to fall backward. Kaiina grabbed his arm
with both hands, hooking her pointed inch-long fingernails in deep, but she couldnt hold
his weight. As he fell back over the edge of the boat, his arm gradually slipped through
Kaiinas grip, her nails ploughing slowly through his flesh. Brent splashed into the water
with a terrible wail as the salt water rushed into his bleeding wounds. Half a dozen black,
triangular fins cut through the water heading for him like torpedos. He disappeared under
the water with one last horrific scream, and then there was only a splotch of red staining
the surface of the waves.
Her head bowed, a tearful and contrite Kaiina walked silently into the hut. Lolani looked
up and saw her half-sister, distraught and covered with blood. "Has your big, handsome
man left you unfulfilled?" Lolani asked with catty sarcasm, "My little, ugly man has
satisfied me mightily. Twice, in fact. I am certain I shall be with child." She propped up
Alexs exhausted body for Kaiina to see. "Look at his wounds, how they are deep and
plentiful. Let us see your mans wounds. Let us be judged, she who is the most
irresistible," Lolani said with vengeful fervor. "I too am certain I shall be with child, and
my mans wounds were also deep and plentiful," Kaiina said lifting her head with pride.
Then she dropped to her knees in tears and sobbed, "But he asked me not to wound him
with my nails while we lay together, and I defied the gods. It angered them, and they
pulled him into the sea and sent the sharks for him." "You know what is expected of
you," Lolani said. Kaiina nodded somberly. She kneeled by Lolanis bedside with her
head erect. "I am ready," she said. Lolani nodded. She held Kaiinas face tenderly. "I
want you to know that this gives me no pleasure, my sister," Lolani said with her voice
quivering slightly. And then she dug her inch-long pointed fingernails into Kaiinas
cheeks and raked sharply. Stoically, Kaiina stifled her desire to scream, and she
remained steady despite the four deep gashes bleeding from each side of her face, despite
knowing that her once-flawless beauty was now forever scarred. Lolani helped Kaiina to
her feet and into the bed with Alex. "Whats going on?" Alex asked. "He shall be yours
also," Lolani said to Kaiina. Kaiina looked up at Lolani and wiped tears from her blood-
streaked face. "Oh thank you my sister!" she said, "I shall be reminded of your mercy
with every scar I leave upon him." And Kaiina dug her sharp-pointed inch-long
fingernails into Alexs scrawny, scab-covered chest and opened ten new deep scratches
while he shrieked with pain. Outside the hut, Jocko heard Alex scream and he shouted
through the open window, "Youre one lucky boy, capn!"
-
What The Girl Wants
What The Girl Wants…by Stryker
Darlene had had a storybook idea of how her life was supposed to go, but the dream came
crashing down a month after high school graduation. Not only did the boy shed loved
since junior year and hoped to marry leave her, he left her carrying his unborn child. For
the next ten years, Darlene worked two waitressing jobs, managing to stay one paycheck
ahead of eviction and the repo man. She sacrificed her own needs and wants in order to
give her daughter Shannen everything her heart desired, in an attempt to make up for not
having a father. To say that Shannen was spoiled was an understatement of grand
proportion. She was in fact the walking definition of entitlement. Self-absorbed and
manipulative, she would not have had a single friend were it not that she was also
uncommonly pretty. With her huge blue eyes and long, golden blond hair she turned
heads everywhere, and people were always at the ready to indulge her. Darlenes worst
nightmare was that Shannen would some day end up pregnant and doomed to repeat her
mothers path in life, so paradoxically at the same time she showered the girl with every
material thing she asked for, Darlene was extremely protective and strict. Lacking much
education or worldliness, Darlene didnt understand how the constant paradox was
affecting her young daughter. Even at ten, Shannen had begun to smoke cigarettes
behind her mothers back. After school and on weekends Shannen hung out with a crowd
of mostly teenagers, stopping first at a friends house to put on makeup. At first she
smoked weed and drank only when she was partying with her older friends, but
eventually she began to do it at home by herself, locked in her room late at night when
her mother was sleeping.
The last thing Darlene wanted, or had time for, was a relationship. A day didnt pass
when at least three different men asked her out. Most of them were easy to dismiss.
Many were married, some were much older than her, and a large number were just plain
unattractive to her in one way or another. Then there was Hank. Hank was thirty-five,
seven years older than Darlene, but boyishly-handsome. He was tall and well-built, soft-
spoken and considerate. He always left her a generous tip, and he never propositioned
her. Shed learned from chit-chat that he was single, and it intrigued her---perhaps even
bothered her a little---that hed never tried to pick her up. Another thing about Hank was
that he would stare at her hands, and often commented how much he liked her polish
color, or told her how beautiful her nails looked. On one hand Darlene was flattered,
because she took great pride in her nails, always keeping them about a quarter-inch long
and carefully shaped and polished. But on the other hand she found Hanks interest in
her nails a little odd for a man, and in the back of her mind she halfway suspected he
might be gay. Then one day while she was pouring Hanks coffee he asked her if shed
seen the new Spielberg movie yet, and when she shook her head he took a deep breath
and quickly asked her if shed like to see it with him. Darlene said yes without even
thinking. She was surprised hed suddenly asked her out after all that time, but equally
she realized how much shed been attracted to him and was truly overjoyed.
Their date went very well. Hank was definitely straight, and not nearly as shy as Darlene
had thought. The previews were still showing when Hank took her hand in his, and he
held it throughout the entire movie and as they walked out of the theater and back to his
car. When he pulled up to her little house, he took her hand again and kissed it. It had
been a long, long time since a man had touched her tenderly, and Darlene leaned in
closing her eyes for him to kiss her. While they kissed, Hank put her hand up to his face
and gently curled her fingers and softly stroked her nails along his cheek once. Darlene
reached back up and stroked his cheek again with her nails, and she heard his breathing
quicken and felt his kiss intensify. "Would you like to come upstairs?" she asked softly.
"Would you like me to?" he asked in return. "Only if you want to," Darlene whispered in
his ear, gently scratching the back of his neck with her nails.
Darlene burst from her ten years of celibacy like a convict released from prison. Darlene
wrapped her legs around Hank and clawed his back as she came again and again. "Oh
my God, Im so sorry!" she exclaimed when she saw the marks shed left on him, "I
promise Ill cut my nails next time." Hank took her hands and kissed them. "No!
Dont!" he cried with a desperate urgency that surprised and confused Darlene.
"Um…ok, I wont cut them," she said timidly. Hank smiled and kissed her hands, and
curled her fingers against his chest. Darlene scratched him lightly and he began kissing
her neck passionately. "Oh I promise you I wont cut them!" she gasped as he climbed
on top of her again. Darlene had never heard of a long-nail fetish. She felt that her long
nails made her look sexy and she just presumed Hank agreed.
After six months of romantic courtship and steamy sex, Hank asked Darlene to marry
him. She was reluctant on account of Shannen, but Shannen was all for it. Hank had a
big, beautiful house where the now-eleven-year-old would have a huge bedroom and her
own bathroom at the far end away from her mothers bedroom. Hank also had a very
well-stocked liquor cabinet and a good stash of weed. And on Hanks income she would
be able to get things her mother never could afford on her waitress pay. So Shannen
welcomed Hank warmly, cleaving to him affectionately, awakening his paternal instinct
to love and protect her. With Shannen as maid of honor, Darlene and Hank were
married, and they settled in to Hanks house and began their new life. The first thing
Hank did was convince Darlene to quit her waitress job, and after ten years of it she was
only too glad to oblige. At first he was happy to buy Shannen the latest cell phone and
pay her substantial monthly bill, and to pay for her constant shopping sprees at the mall.
But after theyd been married a little over a year, he began to approach Darlene about
how much she indulged Shannen with material things, and convinced her it wasnt in her
best interest. Darlene bowed to Hanks education and worldliness, and began to set limits
on Shannens spending. Hank also began to notice his liquor and marijuana disappearing
little by little, and although he didnt confront Shannen or say anything to Darlene, he did
lock his liquor cabinet and weed stash. It didnt take long before Shannen realized her
gravy train had derailed, and her resentment began to grow. She would see Hank hold
and kiss her mothers hands, and see him bring her fingers to his cheek to stroke him with
her nails, and Shannen would seethe with disgust. Now almost thirteen, Shannen was
flooded with hormones and prone to moodiness. Add that to being a spoiled brat with
resentment issues, and at every turn she did her best to drive a wedge between Darlene
and Hank at every turn.
One night Shannen was completely out of weed and couldnt sleep. She crept out on the
stairway landing and sat down, watching through the railing as her mother and stepfather
snuggled on the couch in front of the TV. She watched with silent fascination as they
began to make out. She started to turn away when the couple began to undress each
other, but something compelled her to continue to watch. Shannen felt her heart pound,
and she started to get nauseous. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She gritted her teeth
to keep from screaming. How could her mother do this to her? How could she bring this
stranger into their life and let him ruin everything? She saw her mother bring Hank to a
passionate frenzy with her nails, stroking and scratching him, clawing his back in the
throes of sex. Shannen looked at her own hands, at the little chipped remnants of pink
nail polish on her short-clipped nails, and then she looked back down at her mother and
Hank. Shannen bit her lip and took a deep breath and then she padded barefoot back
down the hallway to her far bedroom, a half-smile curling her little mouth.
Over the next couple weeks Shannen seemed to be less petulant and argumentative. She
even seemed to be pleasant toward Hank. Darlene was grateful for her daughters change
of attitude and attributed it to the talks they had. Hank too was grateful, as there was
finally peace in the house and he and his wife werent constantly arguing over Shannen.
Life seemed to be getting back to the idyllic way it had been when he and Darlene were
first married. Hank was very busy at work and came home late, and he was happy that
Darlene was now smiling and in the mood for sex when he got home, instead of frowning
and ready to unload on him all the things Shannen said or did to exasperate her that day.
As close to a month passed however, Hank noticed that Shannens nails had grown very
quickly to nearly the same length as Darlenes. Worse, he found himself unable to keep
from sneaking looks at them, and when he did he had to force himself to look away, and
to keep reminding himself she was thirteen and his stepdaughter. Hank tried to keep his
distance from Shannen, but she wouldnt let him. She sat close to him, held his arm,
hugged him and kissed him, all in the most innocent father-daughter way, and Hank
couldnt not reciprocate without arousing Darlenes attention and suspicion. Every night
Shannen would ask Hank to help her with her math homework, and they would sit at the
kitchen table next to each other. Shannen would keep her left hand spread on the
workbook while she wrote, her long, clear nails on display. She would use the long
pinkie nail on her other hand to point at an equation, and while Hank tried to explain her
how to solve it, she would absently scrape her long thumbnail along her pencil. When
she understood, she would give Hanks arm a quick squeeze, and her nails would trail off
against his skin. Hank hated himself for how it made him feel: dirty, perverted, immoral.
He had to do something to put an end to it. Shannens long nails had to go. He waited
for an opportune moment, and while he was helping her with a story problem she scraped
her nails across the page in frustration. "Shannen, dont you think your nails are overdue
for cutting?" he asked her, as matter-of-factly as he could considering his heart was
racing and his knees were shaking under the table. She looked him directly in the eye
and said, "Im letting them grow long on purpose." Then she modeled her hands for
Hank and added with a slight cock of her head, "Dont you think theyre pretty?" Hank
swallowed hard, "S-sure b-but youre too young…" "Why?" she asked, "Im keeping
them clean and neat, and being careful with them. Im not going to go around clawing
people or anything." "But long nails on a girl your age send the wrong message," Hank
said. "What message?" she asked with curiosity. Hank swallowed hard again, not
knowing how to proceed. "Ask your mom, ok? Lets us just finish your math," Hank
said. "Ok," Shannen said clicking her long fingernails on the table. Then she yelled,
"Mom?!" Darlene came rushing in. "Im not too young to have my nails long am I?"
Shannen asked, raising an eyebrow toward her stepfather, "Hank says they send some
kind of message I should ask you about." Darlene shot Hank a ferocious look that made
him feel as if hed just stepped between a lioness and her cub. "Well discuss it later,"
she said to him coldly. Shannen picked up her math books and gave Hank a triumphant
toss of her head, and unseen to her mother, pantomimed a little scratching motion with
her nails.
"Honestly, Hank!" Darlene chastized him as soon as Shannen was out of earshot. "Dont
you think long fingernails are inappropriate on a twelve year-old girl?" he asked. "Shes
almost thirteen…and, no," Darlene answered, "Besides, its just a phase shes going
through. As soon as she finds out how much work it takes to keep them looking nice,
shell cut them." Hank sighed, "I guess youre right." "I know my daughter," Darlene
said, "But thanks for being concerned about her." She sat down next to Hank and ran
her fingers through his hair, and she began kissing his neck and lightly scratching it.
"You dont think my long nails are inappropriate, do you?" she asked facetiously as he
quickly responded to her seduction. Two months later Darlene discovered she was
pregnant.
Over the next months, Darlenes belly grew large, and she became more and more
physically uncomfortable. Hers and Hanks sex life ground to a halt shortly after the
beginning of Darlenes last trimester, and as her due-date approached she began making
preparations for the big day. One of those preparations, to Hanks utter shock, was
cutting all her fingernails back to nothing. Being as nonchalant as possible, Hank asked
her why, and she informed him "To not accidentally scratch the baby. I had them short
until Shannen was about two, then I figured it was safe to have them long again." Hank
smiled and nodded, even as his heart sank to his ankles. To make matters worse, contrary
to Darlenes prediction, Shannen had not tired of having long nails. In fact by that time
they were over half and inch, and none of them had broken even though Shannen didnt
even use clear polish. Hank figured it was just his imagination, and the lack of a sex life
and the loss of Darlenes nails, but he could swear that Shannen did things with her hands
and nails more pronouncedly whenever he was in the room. He felt so guilty about
watching, so terrified of possibly becoming aroused. It was unthinkable to him, and yet
he found himself thinking and despairing over it. "Shes a child!" he kept repeating over
and over to himself. He cursed his fetish for long nails, but thanked his faith and strong
moral compass for keeping him on the right path.
A week before Shannens fourteenth birthday she presented her daughter with a new
baby half-sister. They named the baby Layla, after the song Hank always played on the
juke box whenever he came into the restaurant where Darlene worked before they were
married. In the hospital Shannen asked if she could hold the baby, and Darlene balked.
"You should really cut your nails," Darlene said. Hank smiled to himself, hoping his
problem would soon be solved. "Ill be careful, I promise," Shannen pleaded.
"Well…ok, but be really, really careful," Darlene said, still unable to deny Shannen
anything. Shannen held her new half-sister tenderly and very gently stroked the babys
tiny hand with the tips of her very long fingernails. The baby squirmed and grasped her
pinkie. "See! Layla loves my long nails!" Shannen smiled to her mother, and flashed a
quick triumphant look at Hank. Darlene felt Hank staring at the ugly stubs of her own
nails and regretted having cut them.
At first Shannen basked in being the much-older sister, and delighted in the
responsibilities of helping to care for the new baby because they made her feel like a
grownup, and because her mother thanked and praised her constantly. But after a few
months Shannen began to grow bored with it, and then she began to focus on how her
mother and Hank fawned over the baby. She saw how they looked at Layla and each
other, and Shannen began to feel more and more as if shed been replaced as number one
in her mothers thoughts. Her own maternal instinct made her love and adore the baby,
so once again she focused her resentment and blame squarely on Hank. Hank meanwhile
was feeling displaced as well. Darlene was exhausted by the time he got home, and what
energy she had left she devoted to the baby. They hadnt had sex since the baby was
born either, and Hank began sneaking down to his study after Darlene fell asleep, having
a couple shots of vodka and smoking a joint, and then masturbating to internet porn. One
night as he was just about to cum, he heard the doorknob rattle and then there was a
knocking. "Hank? Let me in! I need to use your scanner for homework!" Shannen called
from the hallway.
"Just a second!" Hank yelled, in a cold sweat panic, trying quickly to stuff himself back
into his boxers and pull up his pants and fumble to shut down the porn on his browser.
He rushed to the door and opened it. "How come you had the door locked?" she asked.
Hank felt sweat bead up on his forehead. Shannen sniffed the air. "Oh my God, you
were getting high!" she asked with a big grin. "Dont tell your mother," he pleaded.
Shannen held out her palm. Hank rolled his eyes and fished his wallet out of his pocket
and slapped a twenty in her hand. "What year are you living in? What can twenty bucks
buy?" she asked in a snippy tone of voice, and then added, "Definitely not my silence."
And she snatched the wallet from his hand and took whatever bills were inside and
handed him back his wallet. She ruffled through the money quickly. "One fifty," she
announced, "Well, I guess thatll have to do." "Do what you need to and go to your
room," Hank told her abruptly. Shannen ignored him and put a piece of paper in the
scanner and plugged her USB drive into Hanks computer. Hank sat down in his leather
recliner and looked impatiently at his watch. Shannen giggled and squealed. "Hank,
you really should learn how to clear your browser history," she laughed. "Shit!" Hank
exclaimed, and he felt a heat wave pass over him, then he ran ice cold. "Oh, this is really
gonna cost you!" Shannen giggled hysterically. "Shannen, please! There are things you
just dont understand!" Hank sighed. "What do you think I am? A child? I understand
what porn is…and what boys do when then watch it," she smiled. "Im out of money!"
he cried. "Dont worry, Im not gonna make you go out to the ATM at almost midnight,"
she said swiveling around in the chair to face him, "Ill let you skate till tomorrow."
Hank laughed feebly, but he could see she was dead serious. "Are you done here?" he
asked her impatiently. "Why? Cant wait to get back to….ewwww!" she shuddered.
"Just go," Hank sighed. Shannen picked up her paper and started for the door, but then
she stopped and turned around and walked over to where Hank was sitting and put her
knee on his thigh. "Give me a joint," she said.
"Hell no I wont!" Hank said in a whispered shout. Shannen pivoted and sat on his lap.
"Oh come on! I wont tell Mom about the porn if you give me a joint," she bargained.
"Your mother would be a lot more upset if I gave you dope than if she found out I was
looking at porn," Hank said. "Pleeeeeease?" she whined. Shannen pushed aside the
collar of Hanks bathrobe and traced her inch-long pointer nail through his chest hair in
figure-eights. Hank held her hand still. "Dont do that," he said. "Why not?" Shannen
asked with surprise. "Just dont do it," he repeated. "But I thought you liked it when
someone touches you with her nails," Shannen said pointedly. "Not thirteen year-old
girls!" he exclaimed, "And how do you know?" "Girls just know," she said with a sweet
smile. "Well, youre wrong!" Hank insisted. "Am I?" Shannen asked, dragging her long
fingernails lightly up from his wrist to his elbow. Hank grabbed her wrist. "Youre
hurting me!" Shannen complained, and she pried at Hanks fingers with the nails of her
other hand. "Ow! Shit!" Hank muttered, quickly letting go of her and staring at the little
red indents shed made in his hand. Shannen smiled. "I bet youd like me to cut my
nails, wouldnt you?" she giggled. Hank scowled. "How much would you pay me to cut
them?" she asked.
"My God, is everything with you about money?" Hank asked. "Mostly," Shannen
answered unrepentantly, "So, how much would you pay me to cut my nails?" "A
hundred bucks," Hank answered. Shannen laughed, "No, seriously. How much?" "How
much do you think theyre worth?" he asked. "To cut them all the way to the skin?" she
asked. "Yes," Hank replied. "A hundred a nail," she answered straightforwardly.
"Thats a thousand dollars!" Hank gasped. "You dont think its worth a measly
thousand dollars not to have to look at my long fingernails any more?" she responded,
"A thousand little dollars…to not get those feelings?" "Feelings? W-what f-feelings? I
dont know what youre talking about. Feelings?" Hank stammered. Shannen leaned her
head against Hank and smiled into his eyes. "You know what feelings," she said softly,
scratching his chin playfully with her inch-long fingernails. "Ok! Ok! Fine! Tomorrow
Ill get you your thousand dollars," Hank sighed plaintively. Shannen rested her back
against him and held her hands out in front, admiring her extremely long nails. "Forget
it. I changed my mind," she said. Hank spun her around to face him. "Ok, two
thousand!" he said emphatically. Shannen clasped her hands to herself. "Nuh uh! I love
my nails!" she said defensively. "Five thousand, and thats my final offer!" Hank cried,
"Please, Shannen. Please cut them. Please!" Shannen looked toward the ceiling. "Ill
think about it and let you know tomorrow," she said. "Promise youll think about it,"
Hank pleaded. "Ok," she smiled, and as she got off his lap she stroked her fingernails the
length of his arm and giggled at the tortured look that appeared on his face. "Oh, and Ill
take that joint now," she added. Hank shook his head in defeat and took a bag of joints
from his bathrobe pocket and began to open it. Shannen snatched the entire bag. "Hey!"
he exclaimed, but she just tossed her head and skipped toward the door. "Oops!" she
said, and walked back to the desk, "I almost forgot my homework." Plucking her USB
drive from the computer Shannen trotted out the door and bounded upstairs. Hank buried
his head in his hands.
The next day when Hank came home from the office, he immediately sensed something
was not right. Darlene was sitting on the living room couch with her arms folded.
Shannen was sitting sideways on the adjacent stuffed chair, her legs draped over one arm.
She was idly picking and cleaning her long nails, and she cast him a covert smirk.
"Darlene? Whats wrong?" he asked, "Are you going somewhere?" His wife stood and
faced him. "No, you are," she said coldly. "Huh? What are you talking about?" he
asked, perplexed. Darlene slapped his face hard. "What he hell was that for?" he
bellowed. "Get out!" she screamed. "Why? What have I done?" he asked. "You know
god damned well," she said, seething with rage, "Dont bother trying to lie. Shannen
showed me the video." Hank wrinkled his brow, "Video? What vid…?" Then it hit him,
and he turned toward Shannen red-faced. "You scheming little bitch!" he yelled.
Shannen squeaked and ran clinging to the back of her mothers dress as if she was
terrified. "I swear, its not what it seems!" Hank cried, "You have to believe me!"
Darlene said, "Then if I looked in your briefcase I wouldnt find five thousand dollars?
That you withdrew today, to pay my thirteen year-old daughter to cut her nails so you
wouldnt want to screw her? My thirteen year-old daughter, who you gave marijuana
to?" She held out her hand for him to give her his briefcase, but Hank clutched it to
himself. "Thats what I thought," Darlene said, "Oh Hank, how could you?" "I-Im
sorry! I never touched her…I never would. You know that! Ill get help. I promise!"
Hank pleaded. "I dont care. You disgust me. I dont ever want to see your face again,"
she said. "Baby, please!" he cried. "I should call the police and have you arrested, sent
to prison," Darlene said, "But now Ive got a baby and I cant support two children
waitressing. So heres the deal Hank: youre leaving, youre never going to see me or
Shannen or Layla again. Youre going to give me an uncontested divorce, this house, and
every month until Layla is eighteen youre going to send me a check for $10,000 in child
support. Otherwise Ill turn you over to the police. Got it?" Hank saw the resolve in her
eyes and hung his head and muttered, "Ok."
Five years passed. A day didnt go by when Hank didnt think about Layla, his little
daughter. It depressed him not to know her, to be there for her, to be her father. It
infuriated him to know she was probably being poisoned against him, so that even later
on in her life she would never want to see him or know him. Fortunately for Hank his
business ran pretty much on its own, because he was frequently too depressed to come in
to the office. All the money he had couldnt buy him what he wanted: the love and
affection of his only child. He drank, he got high, he even began doing cocaine to try and
ease his pain. Relationships with other women were out of the question, he had become
so depressed and pathetic. Several times he even contemplated suicide, but couldnt
bring himself to do it. His life ran continuously at rock-bottom, with no hope in sight of
improvement. Then one night his doorbell rang. Hank stumbled over stacks of old,
unread mail and opened the door. There stood a tall, slender young woman. She had
shoulder-length dirty blond hair with little streaks of bright purple dye, lots of dark eye
shadow, and full, luscious lips with deep pink lipstick. She wore numerous earrings in
both ears, and a delicate silver ring in one side of her small, perfectly-shaped nose. The
young woman was wearing a low-cut white silk blouse that displayed her ample
cleavage, and she had on tight jeans and high-heeled sandals, with her toenails painted
the same shade of hot pink as her lipstick. "Hi, Hank. Can I come in?" she asked shyly,
head bowed and hands behind her back. "Did you bring the papers?" he asked. "What
papers?" she asked. "The papers for me to sign…my office sent you, right?" he said.
The young woman cocked her head inquisitively. "You dont recognize me?" she asked,
brushing back a purple strand of hair. Hank stopped breathing for a moment when he
saw her hand…inch-long fingernails on every finger. "Shannen?" he asked
incredulously. She smiled.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Hank asked with panic in his voice, looking furtively
around to see if anyone was with her. "Im alone, so if you want to hit me…" she began.
"Im not going to hit you," he said, "Why are you here?" "Can we talk inside?" she
asked. Hank hesitated. "Dont worry, Im eighteen. You cant get in any trouble," she
said. "Watch your step and pardon the mess," Hank said gruffly, kicking the old mail
and some newspapers aside, "I dont have people over very often. Actually, not at all."
"Im sorry," Shannen said. "Are you?" Hank said contemptuously. "Yes, I am. I was a
spoiled brat back then. Im grown up now. Im truly sorry," she said with tears welling
up. "Does your mother know you lied and set me up?" Hank asked, unmoved by her
contrition. "I told her, yes," Shannen replied. "And?" Hank probed. "And she kicked
me out," Shannen said and burst into tears. "Ah, so thats why you showed up here,"
Hank huffed. "I have no place to live and no money. I cant make much over minimum
wage with just a high school diploma. What do you want me to do to survive, turn
tricks?" she sobbed, and she looked at him and sighed, "I guess you figure thatd be
fitting punishment for what I did to you, huh." "Where are your things?" Hank asked.
"Everything I have is in a little suitcase…I stashed it in the bushes," she sniffled. "Bring
it inside," he said. "Oh my God, thank you!" Shannen wept, and threw her arms around
Hank. Hesitantly he patted her back and tried to comfort her, "Ok, ok, its going to be
alright." "Dont worry, I wont stay long. Just until I can figure things out," she sniffled.
"Are you hungry?" Hank asked. "A little," she said in a tiny voice.
Hank fixed Shannen a ham sandwich and opened a can of Coke for her. Sitting across
from the table, Hank said, "How is Layla?" "Oh my God, shes amazing!" Shannen
exclaimed with wide eyes, "So smart, and so beautiful." Hank took a deep breath and
said, "Now that your mother knows what really happened, do you think that…" Shannen
shook her head, "She said it doesnt matter, that your…fetish? Yes, thats how she said
it…your fetish makes it dangerous for Layla to be around you." "It isnt! Thats wrong!"
Hank cried, and pounded his fist on the table. "I know," Shannen said, "Otherwise youd
have done something…touched me or something." Hank folded his arms on the table
and laid his head down. Shannen saw his shoulders shaking and knew he was crying, and
she stroked his hair gently and said, "Im so sorry. If there was anything I could do, I
would. I really would." Hank lifted his head and looked into her eyes. "You know
what? I believe you," he said. "Thank you," Shannen said warmly.
"Ill change the sheets and you can have my room. Ill take the couch," Hank said. "Oh
no! I refuse to let you do that," Shannen said quickly, "The couch is fine for me. In fact
its way more than I deserve." "Stop beating yourself up, Shannen. What you did was
horrible, but you were thirteen. I was the adult, I shouldve handled it better," Hank said.
"Thanks. But I still insist on taking the couch," she said. "Youve definitely changed,
and all for the better," Hank said. "Ive worked hard at it," she said. "For what its
worth, Im proud of you," he said. "Its worth everything to hear you say that," she said.
Hank was overwhelmed by how sweet and selfless and mature Shannen had become.
"Youre a lovely young woman," he complimented her. "Thank you," she said quietly,
modestly, then she grinned and spread her fingers before her and laughed, "One thing
though…I never could bring myself to cut my nails." Quickly she put her hand over her
mouth and said, "Oh, Im sorry! I forgot what nails do…I mean, how they affect…oh,
God, Im such an ass!" "Its ok," Hank said calmly. "So…it doesnt make you feel
nervous or weird having my long nails around…seeing them…you know, seeing how
long they are?" she asked, "Cuz I dont want to make you uncomfortable." "Ill be ok,"
Hank said quickly. "Whew! I was afraid maybe my long fingernails might, like, get you
hot or something," she said. "Ill be fine, Shannen. But maybe you could stop talking
about them?" he suggested. "Oh! Sure! Im sorry!" she apologized, "If you want, I
could wear gloves or…" "That wont be necessary," Hank said. "Thanks," Shannen said
looking at her nails back and front, "Because nails really need to breathe. And besides, I
dont know if they even make gloves to fit over nails as long as these." Hank went to the
liquor cabinet and quickly poured himself a double shot of scotch and downed it in one
gulp, then poured himself another and took a sip. He noticed Shannen was watching him.
"Do you happen to have any vodka?" she asked timidly, "Its kinda been a shitty day for
me." Hank frowned. "Im of legal age in this state," she said brightly. Hank shrugged
his shoulders, "Im sorry, Im just not used to you being an adult." "Me neither
sometimes," she laughed. Hank poured her a shot of vodka, and she came over and took
the glass from him. "What shall we drink to?" she asked, and added, "How about, to
better times ahead?" "Sounds good to me," Hank said, clinking his glass against hers.
Shannen kept her eyes fixed on Hanks, which in turn made him keep his eyes on her.
She smiled slightly and tipped her glass to her lips, her pinkie extended with long nail
projecting an inch from the tip, the rest of her long-nailed fingers and thumb wrapped
around the glass just inches from his face. She watched Hanks pupils dilate and her
smile grew.
"Ill get some sheets for the couch," Hank said. Shannen grasped his arm lightly and
said, "Its only eleven. Im sure you dont go to bed this early, do you? We can watch
some TV if you like…whatever you usually watch." "I would like to catch the sports
wrap-up," he admitted, and sat on the couch and turned the TV on. "Cool," Shannen said
sitting down next to him. Hank slipped his bare feet out of his Birkenstocks and put them
on the coffee table. "Thanks again for saving my life," she said, and gave him a gentle
kiss on the neck. Hank looked out the corner of his eye and sneeked a glimpse of
Shannens long, manicured fingernails. She noticed, and smiled to herself. When the
news was over, Hank said, "Well, I guess Ill let you get some sleep." "Its ok, Im not
tired. Im actually kind of a night owl," she said, "Whats on cable?" Hank checked the
guide. "Ha ha Animal House is on," he chuckled, "You probably think its lame
though…lets see what else is on." "Are you kidding? Animal House is a classic!" she
said. Hank smiled. He was truly enjoying Shannens company. Hed been alone for so
long. "Only one thing is unfortunate," Shannen said, "Its like, sacreligious not to get
stoned to watch Animal House." Hank looked at her and raised one eyebrow, then he
smiled and reached under the couch and brought out a little box. Shannens eyes
brightened and she wagged her long-nailed pointer at him playfully. "You naughty boy!"
she teased. Hank took out a joint, lit it and took a hit, then offered it to Shannen. She
pinched it between her long thumbnail and pointer nail and took a long drag. "Thats
some really good shit!" she remarked with a little cough. Soon they were both high.
Shannen had a musical laugh that filled the air, and she could quote lines from Animal
House before the actors said them. Toward the end she mentioned to Hank that her buzz
was wearing off, and reached under the couch to retrieve another joint. When the movie
was over, Shannen took the remote and flipped to an adult channel, where two girls were
going at it hot and heavy. Hank reached for the remote but she held it away from him
and giggled, "Come on! You havent lived till youve watched porno stoned. Its
hysterically funny! Trust me!" Hank was pretty well wasted, and found Shannens
bubbly youthful playfulness irresistible. "Alright, why not?" he said, "Like you said, you
are eighteen." "I am indeed," she said seriously, then burst into stoned giggles. She
slipped her hand under Hanks arm and laid her head against his shoulder. "Mind if I put
my feet up, too? Dont worry, Ill take my shoes off." "Go right ahead," he said kicking
some magazines out of the way. Shannen put her bare feet up next to his and wiggled her
toes. Her feet were small next to Hanks, her pink-polished toenails so feminine
compared to his. The two of them both laughed hard at the contrived situations and
painfully-amateurish overacting. Shannen commented that the girls on screen were most
probably not really lesbians because they were both wearing long fake nails. She
confirmed her theory in the next scene when one of them began giving the pizza delivery
boy a handjob. Shannon whispered, "Oh my God, those fake nails are sooooo thick and
gross! And look at how awkward she holds her fingers. Its so obvious she doesnt
normally have long nails. And OMG what a shitty hand-job-giver she is!" "Well, he
seems to be enjoying himself," Hank laughed. "He probably never had a hand job from a
girl with real long nails," Shannen said, "I bet youve had lots of them…considering
your, um, preference." "Jesus, Shannen, dont you think thats getting a little personal?"
Hank asked. She playfully stroked her pinkie-toenail against the side of Hanks bare
foot and said, "I like getting personal." Hank felt a wave of adrenaline, which he wasnt
certain if it stemmed from fear or excitement. He turned to look at Shannen, hoping to
find the answer in her face. She looked him in the eyes, and she smiled. And she
reached up and put her hand on his cheek, bringing him closer as she raised her face and
turned her head and gently parted her lips. "Shannen…this isnt right," he whispered as
he watched her eyes closing. But then he felt her press her nails into his cheek, and he
was powerless to move. Her lips touched his. She put her other hand around his neck
and stroked him with her nails and as they kissed deeper and deeper, she climbed on his
lap and reached down and undid his belt. Bolts of electricity shot through Hank when he
felt her silken fingers around his hard member, and the sharpness of her inch-long
fingernails stroke his shaft with teasing lightness and slow, constant rhythm.
Hank opened his eyes and saw Shannen propped on her elbow, smiling sweetly at him.
She was holding the sheet against her modestly, her long, beautiful fingernails spread
against the cloth, her purple-streaked dirty-blond hair draped over her exposed bare
shoulder. "Good morning," she said sweetly. Hank held his head in his hands and
sighed, "Shit. What have we done?" "God Hank, dont be such a drama queen,"
Shannen admonished him, "So we hooked up. So what? Were both consenting adults."
"Youre my ex-wifes daughter!" he cried. "Yeah. It is sorta hot, isnt it?" she grinned.
Hank frowned, "Whats done is done. I was depressed, you were upset, we were both
wasted. But we have to promise itll never, ever happen again, ok?" Shannen tossed her
head and laughed. Hank felt her bare foot slide up his leg under the covers. "Im sorry
Hank, but that just doesnt work for me," she said, rolled on top of him and began kissing
his neck. "Stop," Hank implored her. "Youll have to make me stop," she taunted with a
giggle, "If you can." Shannen stroked his shoulders with her long nails, and Hanks
mouth fell open. She opened her mouth and sealed it over his.
Breathless and sweaty after sex, Hank and Shannen lay side by side. "I know this is
gonna sound horribly selfish of me to ask," Shannen said, "But, well…I kinda maxed out
my credit cards and…" she began. "So thats what this was all about? Money?" Hank
shouted, "Youre still the same selfish little…I really believed growing up had changed
you. Im such an idiot." Shannen started to cry, "No! Its all from stuff I bought a long
time ago. The interest just keeps mounting up and I cant seem to get ahead of it. Its
like Im in a hole and cant climb out." She began to weep heavily, and Hank sighed and
held her close. "Im sorry, I apologize. Dont worry, Ill help you out of the hole."
"Thank you," she sniffled, "Ill pay you back every penny, I promise." "Dont worry
about it," Hank said. "No, I insist!" she said. "Well, if itll make you feel better," Hank
said. Shannen began to cry again. "Whats wrong now?" he asked. She sobbed,
"Well…my credit is shot, so I cant get a car loan. And without a car I cant find a job.
Not that an eighteen year-old with just a high school diploma can make enough to
survive." Hank took a deep breath. "With my contacts Im pretty sure I can find you a
decent-paying entry-level job, and you can enroll in community college at night. Ill find
co-sign so you can get a car. So stop crying and smile," Hank said. Shannen smiled
brightly. "OMG thank you! I cant believe youd be so nice to me," she exclaimed, then
she turned to him and while running her fingers through his chest hair and scratching
teasingly with her long nails said, "I think Id look hot in a red BMW, dont you?"
"I am selfish," Shannen said suddenly. "Why do you say that?" he asked. "Because,"
she said, "Im glad everything happened the way it did…you and my mother splitting
up…her throwing me out…you taking me in…us hooking up. Everything. I know I
screwed your life up, but it feels like things turned out for the best. This feels so right."
Hank took her hand and said sincerely, "Look, Shannen, I know youre an adult, but you
are still young. Dont mistake gratitude for love." Shannen smiled and slowly stroked
her inch-long fingernails up his arm. "I wont if you wont," she said, pulling him on top
of her and reaching to guide his quickly-hardening cock into her. "Love is way too
complicated," she said with a little moan as she felt him penetrate, "Gratitude is simple."
"You really are grown up," Hank whispered feeling the heat of her pussy contracting
around his cock, and swooned when she dragged her long fingernails across his back.
After Hank showered and dressed, Shannen sat up in bed and pulled her knees to her
chest. "When will you be home?" she asked. "Six at the earliest," he said tying his
necktie. "See you later," Hank smiled and started for the door. "Arent you gonna kiss
me goodbye?" she whined with open arms. He walked over to the bed and gave her a
little kiss on the lips, but she slipped her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs
around his waist and pulled him on top of her in a hot, deep kiss. "I really have to go,"
Hank protested, unwrapping her arms. Shannen pouted, then she smiled and ran a long
fingernail slowly along his jawline and whispered, "Ill be waiting for you right here."
Flushed and aroused, Hank took a deep breath and hurried out. When she heard the
garage door open and then close, Shannen reached into her purse by the bedside and
switched on her cell and hit a speed-dial key with her inch-long thumbnail, "Hey…No,
Im still pissed at my mom. Im at my former stepdads…Are you brain-dead? Why
would I tell him the truth that I left home because my mom hasnt got enough money to
buy me a car? He totally believes she threw me out cuz I fessed-up about lying about him
when I was a kid. Hehe!...What?! Ewwww! No, of course not you perv! Hes like,
dinosaur-old…Huh? No he left to go to work...Not till six…Of course I want you to come
over...Like, as fast as you can get here. We can get high and hang out. "
At five-thirty, Shannen turned over in bed and said, "Hey, my stepdad will be home in a
few, so youd better skate." She ran her fingers over her boyfriends muscular, tattoo-
covered arms. "Oh yeah, and youd better get rid of those," she giggled gesturing at
several used condoms lying on the floor. "Flush them down the toilet. My stepdad might
find them if you throw them in the trash." Shannen said. "So…same time tomorrow," he
said. "Yeah. Ill text you if plans change," she said.
When Hank got home, Shannen met him at the door wearing one of his shirts and nothing
else. "God you look sexy," he sighed, sounding guilt-ridden yet helpless to resist.
"Thats because I am sexy," she said seductively, pressing her inch-long pointer nail
against his lips and tracing gentle s-curves down his chin and throat. Their mouths met,
and Hank felt her warm fingers on the back of his neck, followed by the sensation of her
nails. Shannen leaped up effortlessly and wrapped her legs around him, and they kissed
and groped their way to the bedroom. "I have a surprise for you," Hank said softly after
they had sex. "OMG! Is it here? In the driveway?" Shannen squealed with glee. "Huh?
Oh…no. I meant, I got you a job. One of my business contacts has a ground-level
opening in customer service," he said. "Oh. Thats…cool. Thanks," Shannen said
trying to sound enthusiastic, but clearly disappointed it wasnt a car. "It pays $12.50/hr.
Thats much better than youd make flipping burgers," Hank said encouragingly, "And
the best thing is, you can start any time. Tomorrow, if you want." "Oh…um, sure…oh
wait, but first Im gonna need to buy clothes. Everything I own is too sexy for work,"
she giggled. Hank reached in his wallet and gave Shannen his Amex card, which she
snatched willingly, barely able to conceal her excitement at the prospect of a shopping
spree at the mall. "Oh, yeah, there is one more thing," Hank said solemnly. "Okay…"
Shannen said apprehensively. Hank leaned over the side of the bed and rifled through his
pants pockets, and when he sat back up he held his closed fist out to Shannen and said
teasingly, "If you can guess whats in my hand you can have it." "Um," she said looking
up at the ceiling, then she turned to Hank and said, "Money!" Hank shook his head.
Shannen screwed up her face in deep contemplation. "Jewelry? OMG did you buy me
diamond earrings?!" she squealed. Again Hank shook his head. "Tell me!" she whined.
"Nope, keep guessing," he smiled. "Nuh-uh!" she giggled, and grabbed his fist with both
hands. Hanks fingers quickly gave way to the prying of her long, sharp fingernails, and
Shannen squealed, "Oh. My. God!!!" when she saw the car key in his palm, with its
unmistakable BMW logo. "Can I see it? What color is it?" she screamed, leaping from
the bed and hastily putting on Hanks shirt. "Its in the garage," Hank called running
after her. He could hear her squealing, "OMG! OMG! Its a convertible! And its red!
OMG! Its awesome!" Hank stood in the doorway to the garage, enjoying Shannens
excitement and the look on her face as she sat in her new car with the top down, running
her fingers over the caramel-colored leather upholstery, scraping it lightly with her long
fingernails. "Cmere," she said extending her hand, "OMG, thank you!" Hank got in the
passenger side. "How about taking me for a ride?" he smiled. "Im so going to!"
Shannen said, reaching over Hank to recline the back of his seat all the way, and then she
climbed on top of him and held herself up with her hands flat against his hairy chest,
scratching him sensuously with her long, sexy fingernails as she lowered herself onto his
cock, and then she leaned forward and snaked her tongue inside his mouth while she
rocked her hips slowly.
The next day Hank wished Shannen good luck on her job interview. When he came
home that night she was sprawled on the couch munching Fritos and watching reality-
TV. "So? How did it go?" he asked eagerly. "Fine," Shannen said crunching a mouthful
of corn chips, "Well, sort of. They said my nails were quote too long and inappropriate
for a professional workplace. They said I could have the job if I cut them to maybe just
a little over the fingertips." Hanks heart began pounding and his stomach churning,
afraid to look at her hands. "Have some Fritos," Shannen said handing him the bag when
he was right behind her. Hanks heart soared when he saw that she still had her sexy,
inch-long fingernails. "I said Id let them know tomorrow. I hope youre not mad at me
for not taking the job right away. I wanted to ask you before I cut my nails. So, do you
think I should?" she asked, turning around to face Hank, and displaying her hands on the
back of the couch. "Id hate for you to cut them. I know how long youve had them and
how much they mean to you," Hank said. Shannen stifled a smile at Hanks lame attempt
to sound altruistic, knowing that her long fingernails were even more important to Hank
than her. "But without a job how will I ever repay you?" Shannen asked with tears
welling in her eyes. "Well just have to find you a job where its ok for you to have long
nails. Meantime, not to worry," he said. "Youre just so amazing," Shannen sighed.
"Hank," Shannen called as he began to walk away. "Yes?" he said. "Whats the one
thing in the world you want most?" she asked, and before he could answer hastily added,
"I mean, after my nails and having sex with me." "To have Layla in my life, of course!"
he cried, but hung his head and added quietly, "But you said your mother wouldnt allow
it." "She doesnt have to know. I could say I was taking Layla shopping or to
McDonalds or something, and then bring her here instead," Shannen suggested. "Shes
not quite six years old, do you think she can keep it a secret from Darlene?" Hank asked.
"Yeah, Laylas amazingly cool. She hung out in my room all during high school, saw me
drink and smoke and get high. One time she even walked in when me and my boyfriend
were doing it. Shes never ratted me out," Shannen said. "If I could spend time with
Layla, any way at all, even a little bit, I would be unbelievably grateful," Hank said.
"Mmm, I like the sound of that," she said smiling. "But wait…Darlene threw you out,"
Hank observed. "Right...But Mom wont want to explain Layla why, so she wont stop
me from taking her on sister-sister shopping trips like we always do," Shannen lied with
impeccable finesse. "When do you think…?" Hank began. "How bout this Saturday?"
Shannen asked with a smile, noting that Hank was nearly overcome with anticipation.
But then his face grew worried. "Do you think she even wants to see me?" he asked.
"Shes always asking when her Daddys gonna come see her," Shannen said. Hanks
eyes welled with tears and he began to sob. "Dont cry," she said comfortingly, but
Hanks years of pent-up anguish continued to flood from his eyes. "Really. I mean it.
Dont cry," Shannen repeated dryly, a bit disgusted at what she found an un-manly and
unattractive emotional display, and she slipped her hand into his pants. His cock
hardened instantly the moment her long nails touched it, and Hank transformed into the
snorting, bucking stallion Shannen desired. She laughed victoriously and spread her legs,
moaning and clutching his ass with her nails as he penetrated her.
Each morning when Hank kissed Shannens sleeping face and left for work, he already
began dreaming of the moment he would see her again and she would leap onto him
kissing him furiously, and he would struggle to get out of his shirt quickly in order to feel
her sexy inch-long fingernails on his bare skin. And each morning Shannen, as she heard
Hanks Mercedes drive away, would close her eyes and finger herself in lusty
anticipation of the crescendoing sound of her muscular, tattooed boyfriends Harley as he
would arrive. Most times they would smoke Hanks weed and drink his liquor and spend
the entire day in bed screwing. Sometimes they would go for a drive on his Harley,
because the vibration and having her arms around her boyfriends hard abs got her
incredibly hot. And then theyd come back and screw like wild animals. Shannen
always had the strength for vigorous sex with Hank when he got home, but all she really
needed to do was show him her nails and he would do all the work. Occasionally her
boyfriend had to work during the day, and Shannen would head out to the mall for the
morning armed with Hanks VISA Platinum card, and then with the trunk of her new red
BMW convertible laden with purchases, off to the spa for an afternoon of pampering.
Hank continually asked Shannen about the prospect of seeing Layla, especially whenever
he got his credit card statement. Each time she would take his hand or grasp his
shoulders and look him sincerely in the eye and sigh and tell him that, as he knew,
Darlene was extremely stubborn, but that shed spoken to Layla on the phone when her
mother wasnt there, and the two of them had made a pact. "Its only a matter of time,
Hank. Layla can be very persuasive, but after all shes just a little kid," Shannen would
remind him.
Many months had passed, and one Friday night as Hank and Shannen sat at the table
eating dinner after having sex, her wearing his pajama top and him wearing the bottom,
he said quietly, "Its been nearly a year since you said…you know…about meeting
Layla." Shannen slowly withdrew her fork from between her luscious lips. "I was going
to surprise you. Its all set for next Saturday," she said dabbing her mouth with a paper
napkin, "I…we…have her all day. Mom thinks Im taking Layla ice skating and sledding
with my girlfriend Amy. Mom thinks Ive been staying with her, and that its her BMW
Ive been using." "You are a devious young woman. Im sure glad youre on my side,"
Hank laughed. Then he turned serious. "Shannen, I dont know how to thank you," he
sighed. "I do," she winked. Hank smirked at her and leaned forward. Shannen put her
bare foot in Hanks crotch and held him at bay while she fondled his hard cock with her
toes. "Thats nice…but its not what I meant!" she giggled playfully, brushing back her
purple-streaked blond hair with her ultra-long nails and caressing her ear, "I was kinda
thinking…a pair of diamond earrings?" "Anything your heart desires is yours for the
asking," Hank sighed appreciatively. "Now thats what I like to hear," she said with a
sexy laugh and a toss of her head, "You know, its only seven and the mall is open to
nine." "Well, what are we waiting for? Lets get dressed," Hank said with a charming
smile. On the way to the bedroom hand in hand, Shannen softly scratched her inch-long
fingernails against his arm and whispered, "Lets grab a quick shower first, ok?"
"Im so nervous Im sweating even though its freezing cold," Hank confided as he
kissed Shannen goodbye in the garage. "Itll be fine. Laylas six years old, its not hard
to please her. Just be yourself," Shannen said as she slipped behind the wheel of her red
BMW, "So youll meet us at the skating rink in an hour, right?" "Roger that! Ill be
there!" Hank said with a quick salute. Shannen laughed and started the engine, and as
she drove off she glanced briefly in the mirror to admire her new two-carat diamond stud
earrings, touching her lobes lovingly with her long, beautiful fingernails. Hank looked at
his watch nervously every few seconds for the next half-hour as he paced in the cold
garage, watching his steamy breath as it came in rapid bursts. Finally he jumped in his
Mercedes and drove off.
The outdoor skating rink was peppered with children in parkas accompanied by their
mothers or sisters, and shaking like an impatient child on Christmas morning, Hank
scanned the rink and the nearby sledding hill for Shannens pink leather jacket and white
stocking cap, hoping to catch a glimpse of Layla, his little daughter that hed never seen.
"Hank?" Shannens voice called from right behind him, and he felt himself go numb. It
seemed like time slowed to a crawl as he turned around. "Were a little shy all of a
sudden," she whispered, glancing down. Hank could only see two little pink mittens
gripping Shannens legs. "Its ok. This is big. Given the way I feel, I can only imagine
what shes going through," Hank whispered. "Layla? Arent you gonna say hi?"
Shannen prodded. Layla poked her head out from behind Shannen, her little face
shrouded by the fur-trimmed hood of her light pink parka and wisps of platinum blond
hair. She brushed a strand out of her mouth with the thumb of her mitten. Hank squatted
down. "Hi Layla. Im your…" he began, choking back tears, "Im your daddy." "Very
pleased to meet you," she said in a tiny voice, but with adorably perfect diction, "I have a
surprise for you!" "For me?" Hank exclaimed, realizing hed forgotten to get her
anything. "Yes. Would you like me to show you?" Layla asked in her precociously
polite manner. "Layla, you can show Daddy later. Right now lets go skating before the
rink fills up, ok?" Shannen interrupted. She and Hank exchanged smiles while Shannen
put Laylas skates on. "Im a very good skater," Layla announced, "Watch how fast I can
go." Shannen took Hanks arm while they watched Layla skate around the rink. "Shes
incredible, isnt she?" Shannen remarked. "Incredible doesnt even begin to describe
her," Hank sighed, sniffling. "Please dont cry in front of Layla, shell think youre
weak," Shannen said bluntly, projecting her own bias. "Sorry," Hank said taking a deep
breath. "Thats better," Shannen whispered in his ear, and she gave it a playful lick.
"Hey! Its freezing!" Hank laughed. "I know how to warm it up," Shannen said and
drilled her tongue deep inside his ear. "Stop!" Hank gasped, and she laughed.
"Youre a wonderful skater!" Hank gushed when Layla finally came off the ice, walking
expertly on her single-bladed skates. "I told you!" she said confidently. Shannen bent
down and whispered something in her ear, and Layla looked up at Hank and said sweetly,
"Thank you for the compliment, Daddy." "I promise I wont cry," he whispered to
Shannen. "Daddy would you take me sledding?" Layla asked. Hank looked at Shannen
and swallowed hard and repeated, "I promise I wont cry." "Good," she said helping
Layla off with her skates. "Would you like to come sledding with us, Shannen?" Hank
asked, although he really wanted alone time with his newfound daughter. "Oh…I think
Ill wait for you here at the bottom," she said with understanding, although in truth she
had absolutely no interest in sliding face-first down a snowy hill. Layla offered up her
little mittened hand and Hank took it gingerly, and the two of them began to climb
toward the top of the hill. Out the corner of her eye Shannen noticed a cute young guy
checking her out, and she shifted her weight from one hip to the other for him to
appreciate her sexy little ass. The young guy came over and told her how cute Layla was
and said someday hed like to have a child. "OMG you thought Im her mom?!"
Shannen cried with disbelief. "Well, I…," he started, flustered. "And…OMG! You
thought hes my…husband?!" she gasped. "I was hoping not, to tell you the truth," the
guy said. "Yeah?" Shannen said smiling flirtatiously, "Why?" "Cos I
sorta…like…wanted to ask you out?" he said, making it sound more like a question than
a statement. Shannen brushed his cheek teasingly with her finger. "What makes you
think I wouldnt go out with you even if he was my husband?" she asked with a wickedly
sexy smile. The young guy swallowed hard, taken aback by her aggressiveness. "Um…I
really like your nails," he said trying to take the conversation down a notch. "I like them
too," Shannen said modeling her hands for him. "Are they real?" he asked. "Very," she
answered scratching them lightly down his cheek. He looked alarmed and put his hand
to his face. "That hurt?" she said with surprise. "Not really, I guess its because my face
is so cold," the guy said. "I think your face is hot," Shannen said, biting her lower lip
seductively. She stood close to him and unzipped his parka and unbuttoned his shirt and
put her hand inside and scratched her nails softly around his nipple. "Hows that?" she
whispered. "Y-your h-hands are c-cold," he said, although it was obvious from his facial
expression that he was completely aroused. "Theres just no pleasing you, is there?"
Shannen said. "Im sorry, I didnt mean it like that," he said quickly, realizing he
mightve blown his chances. "I was just joking. I guarantee I can please you," she
smiled, "So…do you wanna hook up sometime?" "Sure," he said. "Text me," she said,
and they exchanged numbers.
Hank and Layla made several downhill runs before the six year-old finally said she was
cold and needed to use the bathroom, so the three of them headed for a nearby TGIF for
lunch. "Did you have a nice time skating and sledding?" Hank asked his little daughter
as she slid into the booth next to Shannen, and across from him. Layla nodded. "What
part did you like best?" Shannen asked. "The part about being with my Daddy," Layla
said without hesitating while unzipping her parka and brushing her hood back off her
head with her mittened hands. Her hair was so blond, and very long. Hank looked into
her bright blue eyes and marveled at how beautiful his little daughter was. She smiled
angelically at him and then peered at the menu, holding it with her mittens. The waitress
came to take their orders and Layla said she would like a cheeseburger and handed the
menu politely to the waitress. Hank asked "Dont you want to take your mittens off? I
think it might be easier to eat that way," he said jokingly. Layla looked at Shannen, who
smiled and nodded. "I have a surprise for you, Daddy!" Layla said excitedly. Again she
looked at Shannen, and again Shannen smiled and nodded. "Should I close my eyes?"
Hank asked with a sly wink at Shannen. Layla looked up at the ceiling as if pondering
the question, then she looked back at Hank and furrowed her brow and said, "No…you
can keep them open." Hank beamed, he was so delighted Layla was responding to him in
such a positive way. He hadnt imagined it would go this well. Layla pulled her mittens
off with her teeth, and her hands were in fists, which she held out palms-down across the
table at Hank. "Hmmm…Am I supposed to guess which hand the surprise is in?" he
asked. "Nope," Layla giggled, "Its in both hands." "Oh, a double surprise," Hank
laughed. "Are you ready?" she asked eagerly. "Ready," Hank said playing along, and
leaned down so his eyes were a few inches from her little fists. "Here comes!" Layla
said, and without turning her hands up she spread all her fingers wide. Sweat began to
bead on Hanks forehead and his heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest.
Six year-old Laylas tiny hands sported extremely long fingernails! The ends were as
long as the inner nails. They were all beautifully shaped, clean and shiny.
Hanks eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, and he drew a deep and labored breath.
"Dont you like my nails, Daddy?" Layla asked, her tiny voice muted with
disappointment at his strange reaction, "I grew them specially for you. I didnt cut them
ever since Shannen first told me you wanted to meet me. Shannen helps me file them
nice. She said you like girls to have long pretty fingernails." "Oh, she did did she,"
Hank said narrowing his eyes at Shannen, seething with anger. "Im sure your Daddy
loves them and appreciates how much care and effort you made to grow them just for
him," Shannen said stroking her little sisters long blond hair. And turning to hank
added, "Dont you." Hank sighed, and he looked at Layla with as much kindness as he
could muster, considering the guilt-ridden panic he was in seeing his daughters very long
fingernails still spread in front of him, clicking on the table top, and trying not to let it
affect him. He said, "Theyre lovely, sweetheart. Im so touched you grew them just for
me. But long fingernails are a little too grown-up for a six year-old. You might hurt
yourself, or someone else. So, as beautiful as they are, I think you really should cut
them." Laylas lip began to quiver, and she stared at her hands and then at Hank, her
eyes brimming with tears. "But I love them! I promise I wont hurt anyone. I promise,"
she pleaded. "But…" Hank began. Layla began to cry. "I dont want to cut them! I
wont! I wont!" she wailed. "Dont cry, baby," Hank said trying to comfort her. He
reached to take her hands but stopped short, terrified to touch them because of the
involuntary reaction his nail fetish might cause him to have. "What would you like in
return for cutting them? You can have anything you want. Anything," Hank offered. "I
wouldnt cut them for a million dollars!" Layla cried indignantly. Shannen leaned over
and whispered in her little sisters ear, and Layla stopped crying and smiled back at
Hank. "Ok. A million dollars," Layla agreed. "How about a pony!" Hank asked
hopefully. "For each one," Layla said. "Huh?" Hank said. "Ill cut them for a million
dollars for each nail," she said in her tiny voice with her customary perfect diction. "You
can put it in trust for her, with me as the trustee," Shannon chimed in. "Thats so noble
of you," Hank snarled facetiously.
Hank looked at Shannen with hurt and anger. Shannen clicked her own extraordinary
nails together and said dispassionately, "Honestly Hank, if I were you Id take the deal
before she changes her mind…like I did, remember?" The betrayal and humiliation had
him on the verge of hyperventilating. "And shes not your step-daughter. It wont have a
happy ending when shes eighteen like it did with me. Itll still be incest and thus
illegal," Shannen observed with a smile. "Ten million dollars is outrageous, even for
extortion!" Hank exclaimed angrily. "You dont think having your daughter in your life,
without having sick thoughts about her, is worth ten million? Youre worth way more
than that," Shannen said. "Only on paper," he said, "I couldnt liquidate for a quarter of
that." Shannen smiled. "Well, then I guess youre shit out of luck," Shannen said, and
she turned to Layla and held her hands and asked excitedly, "How would you like your
nails to be as long as mine!" The little girl nodded rapidly with a huge grin on her face.
"I might be able to raise four, maybe five million. But itll take time. A year at least,"
Hank said shaking his head. "I think well have to pass on that offer," Shannen said to
Hanks pathetic, pained expression. Suddenly her eyes brightened and she said, "There is
one other solution I can think of. We could get married. Then you could keep your
money, have me with long nails, and Layla without. Win-win, dont you think?" Hank
buried his head in his hands. "Fine," he sighed. "Not exactly the kind of marriage
proposal I dreamed of," Shannen said, "But whatever. I do expect a huge ring though."
"Im sure you do," Hank growled. He squinted at Shannon and said, "What guarantee do
I have you wont divorce me and take half?" "Do you really think Id be satisfied with
half?" she asked. "I dont suppose youd be willing to sign a pre-nup," he said. "I dont
suppose so," she replied with a sexy wrinkle of her little nose. "Dont look so glum," she
said, "Believe it or not I do think youre hot, for an old dude anyway, and I enjoy sex
with you. I love the way my nails make you go nuts."
In a small ceremony at the courthouse, Hank and Shannen were married. Shannen lied to
her mother that she was taking Layla to a movie, so her little sister could be her maid of
honor. Layla had not so much as a trace of nails beyond the quick, and Hank hugged her
effortlessly, free of the impure thoughts that long nails caused him to have. Shannen
displayed her hand, admiring her clear-polished inch-long nails and the five-carat
diamond that sparkled on her fourth finger. In the parking lot, while Hank went to get the
car, Shannen took her cell from her little purse. "Hey…Nothing, sup with you… Oh,
BTW, me and Hank got hitched…Huh? Hell yeah, me and you are still hooking up...Ill
text you when I get back from my honeymoon…What? Oh sure, I miss you too, baby."
After their month-long honeymoon cruise, Hank said that the first thing he wanted to do
was to see Layla. Shannen made up some story for her mother, and brought Layla to
TGIF where Hank met them for lunch. He beamed when he saw his little daughter sitting
there, so sweet and innocent and precocious as ever. He thought to himself, things could
be worse. "What are you having, sweetheart?" Hank asked Layla. "Ill have a
cheeseburger please," she said politely, placing her menu on the table with her tiny
hands flat. Hank gasped when he saw that she hadnt cut her nails since the last time
hed seen her, and they were almost a quarter-inch long. He went hot and cold, and he
glared at Shannen. Shannen shrugged, "The deal was just that shed cut them. No one
said she wouldnt grow them back."